Waverly Place Wizards Theme Song

Marriage is one of the greatest blessings in life, and choosing your spouse is one of the most important decisions you will ever make. But not her Samaira, she never wanted to marry like that. She wanted to achieve something first, being from a middle-class family, growing up without a parent's love. She wanted to become a doctor but her all dreams got broken the day, when her uncle asked her to do something in return of his year's love, he had given to her. She could not refuse. Unwillingly she becomes his replaced bride. Someone's replacement. Abhimaan Rajvansh, a man of pride, arrogance, traditional values. He is the pride of his family. The most handsome and one of the eligible bachelor. Every girl dreams to be with him, he's enjoying his life fullest and suddenly he got to know that he's getting married. Will he accept his replaced bride? When her family was the reason for his family's embarrassment. Will he ever understand her? Will they ever find their soulmate in each other? Join their journey of trust, respect, compatibility and love.

My husband's beloved lover suffered from menstruation complications. A traveling doctor claimed that a fresh placenta was needed to cure her. His gaze fixated on my seven-months-pregnant baby bump. And thus, I was pinned down on the bed as they ripped the placenta from my body. My son was carelessly tossed aside. He didn't even get the chance to cry before his tiny body fell silent forever. My husband pinched his nose in disgust, frowning as he looked at me—bleeding out, feebly reaching for my child. “It’s just a premature baby. He'll be fine after a few days of care. Why are you making such a fuss? Sandra is waiting for her medicine." He left and locked the door behind him without looking back. He claimed it was a lesson I needed to learn. By the time he finally remembered us, my son and I had long since bled dry, our bodies cold and stiff.

Seorang wanita bernama Laila yang memiliki wajah yang cantik tapi tidak pernah menampakkan senyumnya, kini usianya 19 tahun dan baru masuk ke jenjang perkuliahan. Ia kini tinggal bersama ibu dan adiknya. Ia tak percaya dengan cinta karna cinta hanyalah omong kosong baginya. Apakah benar cinta itu omong kosong ataukah ada seseorang yang akan membuktikan bahwa cinta itu nyata bukan omong kosong??? Apa yang membuat ia tak percaya dengan cinta??? Apa yang membuatnya memiliki persepsi kehidupan yang gelap??? Apakah kehidupannya memanglah gelap??? siapakah yang dapat merubah persepsi Laila ataukah tak ada yang bisa merubah persepsi itu??? Mari simak cerita Cinta Itu Omong Kosong???

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.

"Fine, I’ll do it, but only on the condition that my grandma gets proper treatment. If you don’t hold your end of the bargain,” Sandra said as her tone quieted down before adding, “even the stars won’t save you from me.” ******* He wanted a bride, and unknown to him, he’d married the wrong bride. Aztec Marshall was cruel, and toxic for a powerful alpha, but that was how he reigned. Many who knew him were too scared to even look in his direction. Women who loved his dangerous aura wanted him, but all he needed was for his pack to be strong. She was a simple human, with simple desires, though her greatest challenge was to finance her sickling grandma, the only family that truly cared about her. Adopted into a werewolf family, Sandra Franzel didn't know that she was just a contingency plan for them, until the dreaded day came, when she had to fit herself into a damn gown, thanks to her sister, Scarlet who had made a run for it on her wedding day. However, for the sake of her grandma, Sandra wasn't scared to be the devil’s wife. Bound by a marriage of convenience, they both have to learn to live with each other, even though the longer they stay married, the more secrets come to the surface.

On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.' I sent in my study abroad application without a word. At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection. A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married." Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too." So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared. And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me. Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red. "Amelia, come back with me. Please?"

Le jour de notre dixième anniversaire de mariage, mon ancienne meilleure amie a posté une photo. Sur l’image, sa fille et mon fils, chacun dans les bras de mon mari et d’elle. Tous les quatre serrés ensemble. La légende disait : « Une belle famille avec un fils et une fille. » J’ai commenté en dessous : « Très assortis. » La publication a disparu aussitôt. Le lendemain, mon mari a déboulé à la maison, furieux : « Sophie commençait juste à se sentir mieux, pourquoi tu l’as provoquée ? » Mon fils m’a poussée, plein de reproches : « C’est de ta faute ! Tu as fait pleurer ma petite sœur Cécile ! » J’ai sorti les papiers du divorce et les leur ai balancés au visage : « Ouais, tout est de ma faute. Alors je me casse. Profitez bien de belle famille à quatre. »

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

I finally became pregnant after my husband and I underwent over a dozen rounds of IVF. However, to my horror, I discovered that the embryo growing inside me was the fertilized egg of my husband and the family maid. They even schemed to have me disappear so that the child could inherit everything. I pretended not to know, carried the child to term, and took care of him, raising him with love and care. It was not until 20 years later that they forced me to sign a share transfer agreement by my hospital bed, along with a divorce agreement that left me with nothing. "After 20 years, we finally have our happy family. You never saw this coming, did you? The child you fought so hard to give birth to is my biological son!" Even my son, without any remorse, said, "Honestly, your illness is beyond help. It'd be better for you to just die." With a knowing, almost bittersweet, smile I replied, "For your happiness, I'm willing to do whatever it takes."