Walking Dead Lori Died

My in-laws-to-be are poisoned, but my fiancé insists on going fishing with his true love. I don't stop him. In fact, I lend him my car. In my past life, he chose to take his parents to the hospital after I stopped him. However, his true love died at sea and ended up being eaten by the sharks. My fiancé was normal after her death. However, when we were on our honeymoon, he stabbed me and pushed me into the ocean. "It's all your fault, Fiona! I failed to save Lauren because of you! Now that she's dead, you don't deserve to live, either!" The scent of my blood attracted the sharks. They ripped me to pieces before I could drown. When I open my eyes again, I find my in-laws-to-be lying in their bed. My fiancé runs off to save his true love. Ultimately, he still regrets his actions.

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I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."

“I am not your dead wife!” I scream at him, for the hundredth time but like always, he stares blankly. “Of course you are, Farfalla.” he grins widely. “And until you stop pretending I'm not letting you go.” He's crazy. Adrian Moretti is insane, the red flags were so bright since the beginning but would I not know if I was his wife? I jumped into this mess a little too fast, now how do I convince him I'm not his late wife so he finally let me go? . . . . Three years ago, Adrian’s wife Tatiana died in a plane crash so imagine his surprise when he walks into a strip club and he is allocated a woman identical to Tatiana. Convinced she's his wife, Adrian decides to hold Starlia hostage until she accepts her identity. But is Starlia truly Tatiana? Or he is starting to fall for a stranger that looks exactly like his darling wife?

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

My husband's true love sets my home on fire when she learns I'm pregnant. She wants me to burn to death. I don't cry for help. Instead, I drag my unconscious mother-in-law to her feet and try to get us to safety. In my past life, I screamed for help while trapped in the flames. My husband came to save his mother and me. His true love wanted to prove that she was more important than me, so she ran back into the fire. She later died due to severe burns. After her death, my husband said she deserved it for being an arsonist. He treated me with the utmost love and care. But after my child's birth, he sacrificed her at his true love's grave. "The love of my life is dead because of you and your mother! You can repent for your sins in hell!" I die with him in a moment of despair. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back in the sea of flames.

CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN! TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK IS VERY DARK, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. "It was an accident, believe me, if I could go back in time, I will__" Her words were transformed into a cry of pain when his hands suddenly grasp her jaw. His stony blue eyes were dead as his words sliced through the air. " Oh, believe me you will! I will make sure you become everything I lost because of you! This very life is owned by me!" His hands slowly crept to snake around her fragile neck. " You are mine! And only I have the right to take your life whenever I desire!" In which Freya Owens, a young college student struggling with life and paying bills gets into an accident, tragically claiming the life of a pregnant woman. Nikolas Cullen. A cold-hearted dangerous killer who is determined to make Freya pay for the death of his wife and heir. She destroyed his family. His wife and unborn baby died because of her. He would make her return the debt in ten folds.

Three year after my death, my former mate returned— not to mourn me, but to make use of me one last time. It was the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year—the night when wolves whispered to the dead. “Where’s Mira Thorne?” Rowan demanded as he strode downstairs into the tavern beneath the den. “Her lived here—Gavin’s sister. I need to find her.” Dorian, the tavern keeper, glanced up slowly. “Mira?” he repeated, wiping his hands on a cloth. “She’s gone, Doctor. Died three winters ago. Same night the Moon rose red.” Rowan’s brows knit. “Dead? That’s impossible. There’s no record.” Dorian’s voice softened. “The family from that healing case—remember them? They found her in the alley behind this inn. Tore her apart before dawn. The healers couldn’t even retrieve her wolf.” Rowan froze, a flicker of disbelief passing across his face before irritation took over. “No. She’s pretending. She’s doing this to make me feel guilty.” he said sharply. “She’s hiding. She always was weak. Tell her if her doesn’t come out within three days, I’ll stop sending money for brother’s treatment.” He turned abruptly and left, the tavern door slamming behind him. Dorian sighed after him., shaking his head. “brother? Her brother died before the healers even arrived… there was never any money for treatment.” The silence that followed was heavier than snow. Dorian watched the falling snow and murmured to the empty air, “No one pretends death, Doctor. Not when they’ve already lost everything.”

Jane Foster's twin sister was defiled and died before her wedding. Amidst her family's crisis, Jane was called to shed her armor and marry in her sister's place, thus becoming the country's queen. The tyrant king's first love was long dead. All the concubines in the harem were merely inferior distractions. The only person he adored was the royal concubine, Lady Helena, who resembled his first love the most. Meanwhile, Jane was nothing like his first love. Everyone thought the tyrant king would get sick of her and have her dethroned sooner or later. As expected, the king and the queen were on the verge of a divorce. However, instead of the queen being on the receiving end of the divorce, it was the king. That very night, the tyrant king tugged at the hem of Jane's dress. "You can leave, but only over my dead body!" The concubines were crying their eyes out while they stopped the tyrant king and called out to Jane, "Your Majesty, please don't leave us. If you must leave, take us with you!"

After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared. By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother. But I found him frowning, on the phone. "Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year." What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending. My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.