Trunks Crying

After a fire broke out at the company, I shoved the only rescue rope into the hands of my husband, Peyton Shepherd. However, he yanked the smoke mask off my face and turned to secure it on his secretary, Hannah Russell, instead. Peyton escaped using the rescue rope, and Hannah remained unharmed thanks to the mask. I collapsed from inhaling toxic smoke, and then a falling pillar crashed into my stomach. Blood pooled beneath me. Just as the firefighters lifted me onto a stretcher, Peyton grabbed me and pulled me back down. "Serena, it's just a minor injury. Why are you lying on the stretcher? Let Hannah go to the hospital first. Her condition is serious, and she needs a comprehensive medical exam!" The firefighters and paramedics stared in shock. They looked at my blood-soaked dress, then Hannah crying pitifully over her blistered hand. My colleagues tried to intervene. "But Mr. Shepherd, Serena's injuries are clearly more severe!" Peyton snarled through gritted teeth. "Enough! I'm Serena's husband. Don't you think I know her condition? If Hannah's treatment gets delayed because of this, none of you will escape the consequences!" I pressed my hand against my slightly swollen lower abdomen and nodded, agreeing to let Hannah take the ambulance first. I decided that from this moment forward, neither I nor my unborn child owed Peyton anything.

The dying heir to Silverbay's showbiz empire suddenly announces he'll select a bride at random from the city's prominent families, hoping the marriage can bring some luck and save his life. On the night before my own wedding, his men arrive and inform us that the Simmons family has been chosen. My parents have just three days to deliver a daughter to him. As soon as my sister, Roxanne Simmons, hears the news, she breaks down in tears and rushes to my fiance for help. When he sees her crying, Clinton Whitfield drops to his knees in front of me, under everyone's gaze. "Mr. Sterling enjoys tormenting virgins. If Roxanne marries him, who knows what he'll do to her? "But you're already past the marrying age, so he won't be interested in you. Please, help Roxy this once!" He looks away, his voice heavy with guilt as he continues, "Besides, he doesn't have much time left. When you return, I'll marry you." Tears well up in my eyes. I ask, stunned, "And what if I don't want to?" Clinton's gaze turns cold, his earlier guilt replaced by ruthless intent. "Then I'll make sure you go to him myself." I laugh bitterly as a chill runs through me. "Fine. I'll go instead."

Eight years into marriage, and Fabian's mom finally gave me and my son her stamp of approval. Invited us to spend Christmas in his hometown. My son—Luca--and I were hyped. We picked out a gift for her and hit the road with Fabian. Right as we pulled into the village, Fabian's old friend called—crying, claiming she'd crashed her car. Fabian panicked. Left me and Luca in some random snowy mountain town and sped off. It was pitch black. Snow dumping down. Then Luca screamed. He'd stepped on a trap and dropped into a pit. Blood everywhere. I called Fabian, totally panicked. He goes, "Stella, Roxana's in a wreck. I need to be with her. Stop making everything a competition." Then he hung up. Blocked me. No time to fall apart. I wiped my face, called an ambulance. Too far out. By the time they got there, Luca was already gone. Cold. Broken. Gone. I held him and screamed until my lungs gave out. Meanwhile, Roxana's posting in the social media. All smiles in Fabian's arms. His face soft. Loving. [Highway jam turned into truth or dare. One word—"accident"—and he came flying. So happy.] I exhaled. Tagged Fabian. [Let's get a divorce.] This joke of a marriage should've ended forever ago.

Napilitang pumayag sa kasalang hindi ginusto si Maxine para lang mabayaran ang utang ng ama niyang namayapa. Pinakasalan niya ang apo ng isa sa pinakamayamang tao sa bansa, si Carl Sarmiento na isang magaling na negosyante at babaero na nakukuha lahat ng gusto. Tulad ng ibang arrange marraige ay akala niya magiging maganda ang pagsasama nila ni Carl pero nagkakamali siya. Unang araw palang nila bilang mag-asawa ay pinagbuhatan na siya nito ng kamay at hanggang sa magtuloy-tuloy ito na parang normal na lang dito na saktan siya. Wala siyang magawa kundi umiyak at magtiis dahil kung umalis man siya ay hindi niya alam kung saan siya pupulutin. She's crying and hoping every night that one day her husband will change. Pero hindi lahat ng hiling ay napagbibigyan. As she slowly falling for her husband despite of his attitude she discover something that broke her into pieces. Paano kung ang kasal na pinanghahawakan niya ay hindi pala totoo? Anong gagawin niya gayong mahal na mahal na niya ito? And what if she's dying? Anong gagawin niya upang harapin ang hamon ng buhay ng mag-isa?

"Please don't do it!"She pleaded, seeing the gun in my hand which was ready to fire."I beg you!"She was crying, it was hurting me to see her sobbing so badly, but I had no choice...I have to do this."I thought, you love me!" She yelled at me with a hint of disgust in her voice and hate in her eyes.I let out a small chuckle at her innocence, "I do love you babe, but someone has to pay the price for betraying me. ""It is a huge misunderstanding...Please, listen to me. " I ignored her, I wish it has to be the same way as she said, but it wasn't. I never felt so betrayed before."Andrew...Think twice, " Sam spoke, entering the room, looking shocked yet worried."I've decided, it's already too late to stop me, Sam, before I change my gun's direction to your head, move back and handle her so I won't miss my aim, " I responded with a voice filled with venom.He didn't utter a word after that as She was screaming at me with all the energy she had. I didn't believe I was doing this, I wasn't only punishing someone but her and myself as well in the process.The sound of a gun fired echoed in the room, everyone remained stunned as the flood of blood made its way down the ground, it was sort of satisfying to me, I took my revenge.....------Read the book to know more...

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

I’m the Vettori family princess. The only one. It was our fifth anniversary. A big dinner party at the estate. A waiter spilled red wine on my husband Marco, heir to the Rossi family. My best friend, Sofia, slapped the waiter. Hard. Then she was all over Marco, helping him out of his jacket. Her hand lingered on his waist. A second too long. I just stood there, watching. Sofia saw me. "I was just closer, that's all. Helping him clean up. Don't overthink it." I just smiled. Grabbed my glass. I went to make the rounds with the old dons from the other families. I would finish this night with my head held high. Later that night, Marco crawled into my bed, stinking of booze. His hands were on my waist. He wanted sex. I pushed him off. "The alliance is over," I said, my voice dead. "We're finished." Marco sobered up fast. His face went cold. "I'm trying to apologize here. You're divorcing me because Sofia helped me with my jacket?" I laughed. He didn’t get it. Not until I threw the proof of his betrayal in his face. Not until I cut him off from my family. Then he was on his knees, crying, begging me to forgive him.

Just because I refused to let my husband, Timothy Blackwood, bring his late friend's widow, Gracie Morgan, home to live with us, he started spreading vicious rumors about me everywhere. Overnight, my reputation was completely ruined, and scandalous photos of me barely dressed spread all over town. Customers stormed into my restaurant and dumped food on me in disgust. "You're disgusting! Who would dare eat here now? Who knows where your filthy hands have been?!" One shouted, "Restaurant owner during the day, sleeping around in God knows whose bed by night!" ... Timothy had hired all of these people just to make the rumors seem real. Crying, I finally agreed to let Gracie move into our home. I begged Timothy to clear my name, but Timothy kicked me hard in disgust and hissed coldly, "You made Gracie cry for three straight days. Her eyes are swollen from it, so how am I supposed to face my dead friend? This time, you need to learn your lesson." Later, I became exactly what he wanted, broken down into a harmless nothing who could never threaten Gracie again. Just when he was about to let up, he got a panicked call from his friend. "Alyssa Winter jumped off a building!"

“I am sorry, Mr. Thomas, but I am married—" "To an asshole," Thomas interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. My eyes flashed with anger. "To my husband," I corrected. Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Your husband doesn't know or care that you're crying because he's in there flirting with another woman." My face burned with shame. "He's just socializing," I defended, frustration betraying my words Thomas snorted. "By trying to get into her pants." He smirked, moving closer while I retreated, the space between us shrinking with every step. "I am sorry, Mr. Thomas, but my marital life is none of your business." "Only I can decide that." He said, his smirk twisting into a snarl I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “Say one more word and I'll have you right here and now" he said, his voice a low, husky growl. His finger traced the curve of my face, my heart racing and I felt my defenses crumbling. In a lightning-fast move, his lips slammed into mine, crushing me with a kiss that was both savage and intoxicating. ****** Two people, different worlds, with just one thing in common - Secrets. What happens when formidable sparks begin to brew and secrets threatens to unravel?

Married for five years, I'm known as the woman with the perfect husband. Alexander Foster is tall, strong, endlessly passionate, and people love to joke that we can't keep our hands off each other. Then he goes on a mission one day and never returns. I fall apart. I try to end my life six times, and six times someone drags me back. On the night of the sixth attempt, I overhear my mother-in-law, Anna Greyson, whispering to the man everyone believes is Alexander's younger brother, Daniel Foster. "Alexander, how long are you going to keep hiding this? Mia has tried to kill herself six times because of you." Alexander's voice stays calm. "Mom, before Daniel died, he asked me to take care of Lily. She's fragile, and now she's pregnant with my child. If she learns the truth, she won't survive it." And that's when the truth hits me. My husband isn't dead at all. He's been pretending to be his own younger brother and plans to have a child with Lily Harper under that lie. After crying until I can barely stand, I contact Margaret Warren at the matchmaking agency. "About that blind date you mentioned. I'll take it. And I want the wedding as soon as possible."