V Birthday

On my daughter, Arlene Bale's tenth birthday, I miscarried in a horrific car accident. Before I can even tell my husband, Camden Bale, about my pregnancy, my unborn child has already left me. Devastated, I attempt to call Camden. But after spamming more than a dozen calls, none of them get answered. When I open a social media app, the first thing I see is Camden's first love, Ruth Carroll, celebrating her safe delivery online. The accompanying photo features Camden's tender-looking side profile as he cradles the newborn in his arms. Camden's mother, Patricia Stone, even leaves a long comment there to celebrate the birth of Ruth's baby. "Oh, Ruth! You really are a hero to the Bales! To think that your firstborn is a son who can inherit our family's legacy! That woman who has married into our family for ten years only gave birth to one inferior spawn! "I swear, I will kick that useless woman out sooner or later! Once that happens, you can marry into the Bale family proudly!" With trembling fingers, I click the phone shut. After that, I forcibly get discharged from the hospital and rush home so that I can demand for answers. But that's when my nightmare has just begun. I receive the news of Arlene's unfortunate death. It turns out Camden has left Arlene at home all by herself, which leads to her accidental death. The entire Bale family is too busy celebrating the birth of Ruth's son. No one bothers shedding a tear for Arlene's passing. With hatred brimming in my heart, I fly to another country. Camden Bale, you're the one hurting me from the start till the end. I will make you and your family pay the heavy price.

"There's a foreign object lodged in the patient's lower region. Due to the unique circumstances, we need the patient's next of kin to sign the consent form for an extraction procedure." My body stiffens when I see the name on the consent form. "I'm Renee Becker's next of kin." It's Liam Cassidy who says that. He's the first love of my wife, Renee Becker, who has been away for a month, claiming she's off on a business trip. Liam doesn't recognize me. He takes the pen and signs the consent form. In the section to mark his relationship to the patient, he writes the word "husband". After passing the pen back to me, he grips my hand tightly and beseeches me, "Doctor, you must do everything you can to help her. She's carrying my baby." As I wrench my hand back from him, my wedding ring slips off and falls onto the floor.

I was eight months pregnant when my water broke—the same day as the birthday of my husband’s adopted son. To keep my child from being born on the same day as his adopted son's, he forced me to wait until after midnight. He refused to take me to the hospital and locked me in the basement. Adrian Shaw looked down at me. His eyes were dark and hostile. “Elena, you're really good at picking the timing, huh? Of all days, you had to go into labor on Evan’s birthday.” I begged him to take me to the hospital. A trace of disappointment flashed across his eyes, and his voice turned cold. “You’re still trying to lie to me? I asked a doctor. Even if your water breaks, you don’t give birth right away. Some women don’t deliver for three days. “All this scheming is just to secure your position as Mrs. Shaw, so your child can compete with Evan for his birthday and his place. You've really thought this through.” I took a deep breath as despair washed over me. “The baby I’m carrying is yours too! Adrian, I’m begging you. Please, for the child’s sake, save her. As long as the baby is safe, I promise I’ll never show up in front of you again.” His expression darkened. He bent down, grabbed my chin, and replied harshly, “Don’t play games with me. “As long as you stay here quietly until after midnight, I’ll take you to the hospital. Once the baby’s born, you can finally use the child to secure your place and truly marry into the Shaw family.” Later, when my contractions grew unbearable and I cried out in pain, he found me too noisy and took Evan and his mother out to celebrate instead. By the time he remembered me and asked whether I had a boy or a girl, his secretary’s face paled. “Mrs. Shaw is… gone.”

••• It was all about a conflicted arranged marriage. Violet Hearhenway, married Ramon Fridling who was once married to her late sister. But she wasn't asked to marry Ramon for no reason, or just for the fact that her elder sister was once married to this family. She was asked to marry him because she had to complete what her elder sister could not complete. But she falls.. She falls in the path of her elder sister.. The path of love She grows to love her husband, only to find out that he is more to her... He is her fated partner from the time of creation. When she finds out all of that, she backs out of her initial plan... She decides to love her husband with all of her breath, her muscle and her might... She vows to protect her husband from anything or anyone that comes her way... Do you want to know what her mission is? Do you think it will be that easy? Do you want to know what becomes of Violet after she has resolved to protect and love Ramon? Find out in this interesting, fantasy based but romantic mystery-revealing story....

It was the day of my return. The city was talking about the birthday party my husband was throwing for me. He was a lawyer. But the night before the big day, a message popped up on my husband's cell phone. 'It's been five years. I've been waiting for far too long.' My husband pushed me away, though his face was smeared with guilt. "I'm sorry, honey. The GM wants me on a last-minute work trip. I can't make it in time for your birthday." He left without even missing a beat. I opened up the GPS app and watched the red dot move away. That was him. I got an Uber and tailed him right away. His GM was me. I just got the job, and I approved his leave for my birthday. And then he told me, in my face, that I assigned him on a last-minute work trip when I did no such thing. It was midnight. And I was going to find out who this man was meeting at this witching hour.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

Azazel Dark is one of the most powerful demons in the Supernatural World. To an outsider, he has it all; he's , rich, and a loyal friend. The only thing that has ever been elusive in his life has been the love of a mate. Driven by his love for his newfound family, he agrees to help the Supernatural Council find Marael, a serial witch with a thirst for power. What he didn’t count on was finding his mate caught in the middle of a supernatural tug of war. Zoe’s life has never been easy. The daughter of a maid and the illegitimate daughter of the man of the house; she learned at a young age that the only thing she could count on was her oddly mesmerizing singing voice, but even that has failed her lately. While she's out partying with her friends, she sees him- Azazel. Unfortunately, her life and that of her friends take a dangerous turn. And the only one who can help her is the man who makes her feel things she never wanted to feel. Can Azazel save Zoe from the evil stalking her and her friends and prevent the accession of on earth? Or will their newfound love be shattered by unknown enemies hiding in the shadows?

On the 26th of my birthday, my true love gave me divorce papers and a broken heart. One meant to wound. One meant to finish me. Life has a way of giving gifts that are both unexpected and profound. If the people you love the most can hurt you this deeply, then perhaps it is only fair to return the gesture, quietly and carefully. This is a thick and cruel world. But I am still here. And some gifts are returned with interest — Bianca Winter. *** “Please, Bianca,” Charles Warren begged, crying on his knees. “Give me a chance. Give us another chance.” “Dear ex,” Bianca Winter replied coldly, “I would have to be blind to walk your way again and even blindness wouldn’t excuse that mistake. You already showed me the darkness, Mr Warren, and I will not step back into the shadows.” With no trace of remorse, Bianca turned and walked away with her head held high.

He was consumed by hate, while love ripped through me like a storm. We were like two thorns, trapped in a prickly embrace with no escape. We exchanged vows soaked in blood, sealed with a brutal kiss, and bound by bloodied rings, with no happily ever after on the horizon. Marco Costello, my so-called prince, shackled me as his wife, but he was no savior. I used to imagine what our life would have been like if I had said yes all those years ago instead of running away. I'd play Juliette to his brooding Romeo. But fate had a different script for me, casting me as the antagonist, trapped in a cycle of resentment and sadness, like a lost soul wandering through the shadows, unseen and unappreciated. “Till death do us part...” It wasn't a promise of forever, but a sentence to endless torment.

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.