Unscramble E V O L V E D

Angela, jeune fille de 17 ans se retrouvait dans un dilemme où qu'elle le veuille ou non elle devait faire un choix. Elle jugea bon pour ce petit être auquel elle venait de donner vie d'être dans une famille adoptive, disposant de tout pour lui assurer une vie fantastique ce qu'elle ne pouvait pas. Huit ans plus tard , apprenant aue les parents adoptifs de sa fille étaient morts dans un accident elle décide de se proposer comme nounou pour la petite chez son oncle devenu tuteur. Son seul désir c'est que sa fille l'accepte même si elle ne sait pas sa réelle identitée, mais ce qu'elle ne savait pas c'est qu'en allant chercher l'amour de sa fille elle trouvera l'amour de sa vie

Un soir d’hiver, deux âmes brisées se croisent sur le toit d’un immeuble. Gabriel, 37 ans, vient d’apprendre qu’il est stérile. Son dernier espoir vient de s'effondrer. Ses rêves de paternité, les sacrifices… tout était vain. Il est monté là-haut pour fuir le vacarme du monde, pour faire face à l’abîme. Élise, 19 ans, est montée sur ce même toit après avoir reçu un appel qui a fait basculer sa réalité : elle est enceinte. Mais elle est vierge. Aucun homme , oui , aucun contact , rien. Et pourtant, le test est formel. Son médecin parle d’un "miracle", mais pour elle, c’est une impossibilité crue, presque une trahison de son propre corps. Elle n’en peut plus. Elle veut comprendre ou disparaître. Dans cette nuit suspendue, ils se parlent. Ils ne se connaissent pas, et pourtant, un lien se tisse, fragile, intense. Une forme de tendresse entre deux solitudes. Ils ne partagent que des fragments de leur vérité, sans savoir que leurs destins sont déjà liés bien plus profondément qu’ils ne l’imaginent. Car ce que ni l’un ni l’autre ne sait encore, c’est que quelques semaines plus tôt, une erreur a été commise dans une clinique de fertilité. Le sperme de Gabriel, conservé malgré son diagnostic, a été utilisé par mégarde lors d’une insémination. Et l’enfant qu’attend Élise est le sien. Un drame inattendu, un secret inscrit dans la chair d’un futur innocent. Et quand la vérité éclatera, rien ne sera plus jamais comme avant.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

Résumé L'italien au cœur d'acier... Quand le multimilliardaire le plus riche de l'Italie apprend que Andreev Inokov l'a dupé et qu'il lui avait extorqué des milliards de dollars il était fou de rage,il devint encore plus furieux quand il apprend que ce dernier était mort.. De nature froide et intransigeant,il n'avait pas le cœur pour aimer et il ne pardonnait jamais la trahison alors ne plus pouvoir faire payé à ce russe la dette qui lui devait le mettait hors de lui.. Du moins c'est ce qu'il pensait jusqu'à qu'il découvre par le biais de son détectif l'existence du fille unique que le russe avait,une fille qui n'avait pas laissé le multimilliardaire indifférent, même si il ne voulait pas l'aimer il allait l'utilisé pour se venger de son père même si ce dernier était déjà six pieds sous terre.. Il décida alors de jouer le tour pour le pour le tour,la jeune femme allait servir de remboursement pour la dette que son père lui devait,sa décision était prise,il voulait la jeune femme à tout prix d'une telle manière que même quand il apprenait qu'elle attendait un enfant d'un autre il n'avait pas changé d'avis.. Maintenant reste à savoir si la jeune femme allait accepté servir de remboursement pour la dette de son père,allait t'elle amené le milliardaire à l'aimer ?allait t'elle arrivé à toucher son cœur ?

Noah’s a rising hockey star with a mouth that gets him in trouble and a body built to break rules. Sterling is the team's billionaire owner—older, untouchable, and dangerously in control. They were never supposed to cross that line. But one reckless moment changes everything. Now, Noah can’t stop thinking about the man who sees right through him. And Sterling? He’s losing control in ways he swore he never would. It was supposed to be a mistake. It’s starting to feel like an obsession.

"Mommy, We brought you a husband, for real this time." Miles and Maya speaks, pulling her hand. She her eyes and follows them outside, prepared to apologize but as soon as she sees him standing on her doorstep, time freezes and she becomes too speechless to say anything. He takes one step forward and smirks. "Five years and your children found me." * Mikayla Anderson loses everything in one single party. Who would have thought that the closest ones are the most venomous? Well, she learnt the hard way. For five years, she lived in exile until one day when the appearance of that man on her doorstep turned everything upside down. The serene world she created came shattering at her feet and suddenly it was time to stand up and stop hiding. Time to be the Villainness for her children and the man that she seems to be falling head over heels for. Oh, she will be a bad woman to keep everything she deserves, and now, the man she wants... She will sacrifice them all!

For three years, I was the only one allowed inside my husband, Matthew Carter's, secret room on the top floor. Until that day—when I walked in and found his young assistant there. "Matthew asked me to get things ready for his dinner party," she said, all confidence and no shame. I smiled. It turned out this was what it felt like to have my privileges as his wife trampled on. Fine. If the rules of the game had changed, then I would show everyone who the real player was. One by one, I dismantled the Carter family's most prized projects. That was when Matthew finally panicked. He demanded, "Why? We're husband and wife!" "Exactly," I said, tossing the divorce papers onto his desk. "And that's why betrayal comes with a steeper price, doesn't it?"

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.