We Re All Gonna Die Meme

After Roman Archer and I broke up, he devoted himself to academic research. He had finally become successful. During a television interview, he looked just as confident and high-spirited as he had been back then. The host asked whom he most wanted to share this news with. After a brief silence, he called me. “Celeste, thank you for leaving me. My career is thriving now.” I smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Roman.” He would never know that if I had not left, he would have died.

It's my wedding day. However, Julian Lancaster shoves me aside when he receives a call from Vivienne Hayes. "I'm sorry, honey. Vivi has an upset stomach—I need to bring her some medication for that."

The prettiest girl in our class, Mandy Smith, died unexpectedly in our dorm. When the police took statements, my two other roommates and I pleaded guilty. I took out Mandy’s love letter to my boyfriend. “I killed her because she was seducing my boyfriend.” Anna Anderson took out a purchase history for cyanide. “I killed her because she snatched my overseas studies spot from me.” Fiona Lee took out an expulsion letter. “I killed her because she reported me for cheating.” All three of us hated Mandy. However, the police found that all of us had alibis during Mandy’s time of death. The counselor also asked us to stop lying. However, the three of us sneered. “Whether you believe it or not, one of us is the murderer.”

She’s texting him her heart. But she’s got the wrong number… When Isabel “El” Watson applied for a sales job with her company, she had no idea a jelly donut would explode on her blouse, or that her grumpy boss would practically laugh her out of the interview. Accountants could be salespeople, she was sure of it, even if that jerkface didn’t think so. So when a lady at the local wine festival offers her a sales job on the spot at a new boutique winery, El jumps at the chance. She also jumps at the chance to text with the guy who danced with her at the festival. Life was finally looking up. Boston’s friend, Chad, never should have given Boston’s number to the girl at the wine festival as a joke, but the damage was done. When El sends Boston a text later that night, believing he is Chad, he’s too nice to hurt her feelings by telling her the truth. But there are a few other truths Boston might have thought about: Truth #1: He’s her boss Truth #2: She just accepted a job at his mother’s new winery Truth #3: He’s always had a crush on her Even though Boston is no longer El’s grumpy boss, they still work together at his mom’s winery. And while sparks are flying as they get to know each other for real, El’s kind of sweet on the guy who always seems to know just what to say via text too. Obviously, things will come to a head. Will Boston come clean about the flirty texts being from him? Or will El figure out on her own that she’s been Texting With the Enemy?

A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary makes it to the trending topics. Everyone squeals over how romantic and touching it is. His secretary even posts on social media, "I've waited so long for you to appear, and I'm glad I didn't give up. I'll leave my life in your hands, Mr. Emerson." One of the comments goes, "God, this is so sweet. A CEO and his secretary—I ship them!" I don't weep or cause a fuss. Instead, I close the webpage and ask my boyfriend for an explanation. That's when I hear him talking to his friends. "I didn't have a choice. She would've been forced to marry someone she doesn't love if I didn't help her." "What about Vicky? She's your actual girlfriend. Aren't you afraid of her getting mad?" "So what if she is? She's been with me for seven years—she can't live without me." Later, I have my wedding on the same day as his. Our cars drive past each other, and I exchange bouquets with his secretary. When he sees me, he breaks down.

**One girl. One mission. One deadly secret coursing through her veins.** Hilda Alegre thought escaping her abusive father was the hardest thing she'd ever do. She was wrong. Sold to a powerful criminal organization, the naive Filipino girl becomes their perfect weapon—not through training, but through a single injection that turns her blood into poison. One remote command, and she becomes a walking death sentence. Her target? Aron Nicastro, the crime boss's own son who dared to defy his father and disappeared into the shadows. But infiltrating the world of exclusive art galleries and elite criminals isn't easy when you've never left your rural village. Disguised as a street vendor, Hilda must get close to a man dangerous enough that his own father wants him dead—all while hiding the lethal secret pumping through her heart. **The rules are simple: Complete the mission. Don't get caught. Don't fall in love.** **Because in her world, one wrong touch could kill them both.** As mysterious protector Art watches over her and handler Gabriel struggles with his conscience, Hilda discovers that the deadliest weapon isn't the poison in her veins—it's the growing connection she feels to the very man she's supposed to destroy and the who need to protect. In the criminal underworld, trust is fatal, love is a luxury, and innocence is the most dangerous weapon of all. **Some missions are worth dying for. Some people are worth killing to protect.** **But when you're literally toxic to love, how do you choose between your heart and your life?**

Tracie Conner has saved my mom's life before, so I've given her ten chances to make mistakes. On the day of our engagement, Tracie fled the venue with her first love, Elton Stafford. I chose to forgive her. On the day my mom gets discharged from the hospital, Tracie and Elton can be seen making out passionately with each other at the main entrance. I merely ignore them. In the year after that, Tracie keeps making all sorts of mistakes because of Elton. But I treat her like the same and never take her behavior to heart. That's why Tracie begins acting out of hand, thinking that I will always love her. The tenth chance is used up when Tracie brings Elton to our marital home on our wedding day. When her best friend, Erica Frey, accidentally stumbles upon them during their deed, Tracie doesn't give a damn at all. "Elton is my first love. What's wrong with us using this bedroom to get closure? Besides, Jonas loves me so much. Even if he sees me cheating on him, he'll forgive me." I chuckle softly as I watch everything unfold from a corner. Tracie has used up her tenth chance. Now, I no longer owe her anything.

Since battling over a spade in kindergarten, Dior and Patricia have been life sworn enemies. Despite Dior being the future alpha, Patricia never respected or feared him. She was always a daring omega, not afraid of stating her opinion. With age, the venom runs thicker in their veins. While Dior becomes popular and sought-after, Patricia finds herself bullied by the entire pack. Sick of the treatment she receives, Patricia decides to go rogue, only for fate to laugh her in the face—it turns out the alpha she left is her mate.

Running away is easy. For Dyanne Collins, it's by far the easiest thing to do—perhaps even instinctive, but running from her problems can only get her so far. After her father passed away, she left everything behind, and now, ten years later, she is back where it all began Working directly for Alexander Morgan, the man she had been in love with before she abruptly ended things and moved away. Dyanne's plan: 1) Work in Morgan's company for two more years, 2) Pay off her debt and run away again, 3) and for no reason, fall for her ex-lover, Alexander Morgan. If she could do it back then, she could again. How long, though, can she run? How long until she faces all that has been holding her back? How long can she keep the secrets and questions of her past from coming back to haunt her? “It's going to be nothing serious, I can do it,”, but sometimes serious can sneak up on you in ways you never expected.

My husband, James Lincoln, disappeared in an accident, and my in-laws wasted no time filing to have him legally declared deceased. At the funeral, a woman, Xena Xander, suddenly showed up with a young boy, both crying hysterically. The boy, Charlie Lincoln, screamed at the top of his lungs, calling my husband “Daddy.” My ten-year-old daughter, Mia Lincoln, charged at him, shouting, “Shut up! That’s my dad!” Pretending to break it up, my in-laws instead shoved Mia to the ground. She collapsed and passed out on the spot. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself for not giving us a grandson! This family can’t die out without an heir!” Xena smirked at me with blatant provocation. Behind her, Charlie spat in my direction and sneered, “You’re just a worthless tramp nobody cares about.” I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I laughed. “If you want the status and the inheritance so badly, you can have them. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it.” Two weeks later, Xena showed up at my doorstep, covered in blood, banging on the door and screaming. And then, I got a phone call that felt like a nightmare come to life. But I couldn’t have cared less. By then, I was already enjoying a peaceful vacation overseas.