Walking Dead Lori Died

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

My best friend, Scarlett Throne, is diagnosed with cancer. After running away from home, she takes her own life. She leaves behind only a testament and a pair of eight-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. "You're the only person I can rely on in this world. I'm not asking you to adopt them, but just make sure they have enough to eat." Out of compassion, I take the siblings in. For the next 20 years, my husband and I have been working hard together to raise them, buying them cars and houses. But one day, my adopted daughter reports my husband for being abusive toward her. Even my supposedly dead best friend suddenly appears and testifies against him. I demand to know why she does such a thing. My best friend, filled with righteous indignation, says, "I see you as my best friend! I've never thought you adopted my children just to serve your husband's perversions!" My husband's reputation is ruined, and he's been thrown in jail. I desperately try to prove his innocence, only to be forcibly sent to a mental hospital by my adopted son. There, I wither away and die. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day my best friend was diagnosed with cancer.

A Royal Affair, A Royal Betrayal, A Royal Revenge Lyrielle lost everything after she was accused of cheating and murder. She was rejected by her husband, and her family was sentenced and brutally murdered by the royal family of Mecianda. They sentenced her to burn alive too, but Arineth, the bastard prince of Mecianda and the fated mate she had rejected, saved her life—not out of love, but revenge against his own family who had betrayed him and exiled him. Together they swore to destroy Mecianda, not as Lyrielle and Arineth, but as the king and queen of Katula Kingdom.

He killed their marriage on a stage. She faked her death on the road. Five years ago, Cassian Wolfe—a man who never believed in love—married Leah Quinn to close a deal. On their anniversary, he closed their marriage. Publicly. Brutally. Hours later, she was “dead.” But Leah didn’t die. She vanished—helped by the last person Cassian would ever suspect: his elder brother. Now she’s back. Not as Leah. But as Raven with a new face, a billion-dollar company, and a son Cassian doesn’t know exists. Her mission? Burn down everything with the Wolfe name. When Cassian meets the mysterious new CEO of a fast-rising rival firm, he feels an inexplicable pull. He doesn’t know she’s his late wife. But when the truth slowly unravels—piece by piece—he realizes what he lost… and that he’ll do anything to get her back. Even if she hates him. Even if she’s engaged to his brother.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

Two months ago, I was accidentally injured by a killer who came to assassinate my husband at home. I didn't expect there to be black magic curses on the silver dagger. On the night when my curse took effect, My partner—Alpha Alexander is celebrating his sister's birthday, his true love. When I tried to establish a spiritual connection with him,I have lost my wolf. When Emma called her father for help,He sneered coldly, his voice indifferent. "Isabella, using such a small child, are you worthy of being Luna?" "You are a little liar born of your mother, let her die if she wants to, don't bother me." He doesn't know that I'm really about to die.

"I’m here for you, always, Leora." That was the promise Theron made before he stole her kiss. But promises can be broken. And in Crestwood, betrayal is deadlier than love. The Moon Pendant marked Leora as the rightful Luna before she could even walk. Hidden in the human world all her life, she is dragged back to claim her throne—only to discover that the crown comes with chains. To unlock her wolf, Leora must choose a mate. Every wolf wants her. Every elder demands it. But her heart keeps pulling toward the one man she cannot have—the warrior sworn to protect her. When her love awakens her long-buried power, enemies close in and Leora realizes the harsh truth. The man she loves most is the one fated to destroy her.

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.