What Year Was Hope Mikaelson Born

"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?" These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning. But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind. "Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home." I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight. With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone. "Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

I was in love. He was handsome and seductive. However, what was supposed to be love became a marriage contract. When my family lost everything, including dignity, I was forced to marry, not out of love, but out of interest. My husband never knew the real reason I accepted his proposal, and I pray he never finds out.

Laya’s world is falling apart—haunted by a past she can’t outrun and a future she never chose. When shadows resurface and loyalties are tested, survival might cost her everything.

"You also feel Lumira died an unjust death? Then let's see you change it." Rina Vale died screaming at a screen. Crushed by a truck after cursing an author for the pathetic end of her favorite villainess, Lumira Duskbane, she expected the void. Instead, she woke up behind Lumira’s eyes at the elite Aetherion Academy. But the sequel is deadlier than the original. Bound by a blood-contract with the Author, Rina must rewrite Lumira’s tragic fate or be erased. She is a "walking curse" in a den of monsters. Her fated ex, Alpha Jaxon, hunts her with predatory suspicion, desperate to prove she’s the source of the rot eating the university. Prince Kaelion, the vampire, watches her with a hunger that promises a beautiful destruction. Then there are the ones she’s already changed. Aurel Venticus, the genius White Mage, became obsessed after witnessing her wield a Reaper’s blade—a weapon no living soul should touch. Now, he stalks her mind, determined to unravel the secrets of the "new" Lumira. And Austin, the Moonshadow Elf Prince, remains her lethal shadow; despite the hell the original Lumira put him through, his loyalty has curdled into a terrifying, unbreakable obsession. As demonic shadows turn the campus into a slaughterhouse, the school demands a sacrifice. They want the villainess. The Blood Moon is rising... Rina has the spoilers and the dark magic, but in a world of obsessed predators, will surviving the story might be harder than writing it?

At the family dinner over the holidays, Elias Barrett has given all of our relatives and their children thick wads of cash. When it's my turn, he just frowns at me. "We've been together for so long. What's the point in going through the motions? You're the one managing the finances, so you can just withdraw what you need from the account." I merely nod without saying anything. But soon, I notice a text message from his bank popping out on the notifications' list. "You have transferred 1,430 dollars to Jamie Sutton. Remark: Babe, happy holidays. XOXO Elias." It turns out that Elias' anti-formalism rule is meant for me, not others. I don't bother starting a fight or throwing a tantrum. Instead, I just cancel the booking on my wedding venue that will be used next month. After that, I shred the kidney donation consent form meant for Elias into pieces. Once the holidays are over, I'm not going to extend Elias' life for him anymore.

When I joined my pregnant wife at her class reunion, I heard the thoughts of her male bestie. 'Once she kicks her bum husband to the curb, the money's all mine!' He was snuggling up to my wife, raising his glass in salutations with a perfect smile, but I still caught the flicker of disgust in his eyes. 'Stupid sow thinks I'm in love with her? Who would care about her if it weren't for her money?' He had no idea that Mary's family had gone bankrupt long ago, and her life of luxury now was all thanks to me!

​Amelia Hayes has 30 days to save her niece. ​A judge’s ruling demands the 35-year-old heiress present a stable family unit to win custody of her niece, or the child returns to her abusive father. With time running out, Amelia rushes to secure the only perfect solution: her own bodyguard. ​Her solution? Adrian Cole. ​He’s 25—loyal, quiet, and financially desperate. For a staggering sum, he agrees to a two-year contract with one unbreakable rule: No love, no intimacy, strictly business. ​But when their fake wedding night turns into a real assassination attempt, Amelia realizes her calculated bargain has made them targets. Now, fighting a vengeful ex-friend and a killer lurking in the shadows, Amelia and Adrian must fake their way through a deadly war. ​The contract was just a lie. But the way he risks his life to protect his 'wife' might just be the terrifying truth.

On the day of my ninth wedding attempt, my fiancé, Lucas Yearwood, leaves me jilted again. This time, I follow him. I see him holding his adoptive sister's hand as they walk into the obstetrics department. "Lucas, I dreamed that we're having a boy—he's definitely going to be as handsome as you." Watching the two of them laugh and chat like that, I feel my blood freeze. After I chased Lucas for seven years, I got a chance to use a debt of gratitude to force a marriage contract out of him. I backed him into a corner to make him marry me. Everyone thinks I can't survive without him. But this time, I hand the marriage contract back and leave him without looking back. On my wedding day, he calls me. "Viv! Where are you right now?" I'm in the shower. My new husband picks up the call for me. "Do you have business with my wife?" Later, I hear Lucas turned all of Riverville upside down, digging through every trash can to find our marriage contract.

The day I win the cheerleading championship, the entire arena erupts with cheers for my team. But from the stands, my brother, Nelson Locke, hurls a water bottle straight at me. "You injured Felicia's leg before the performance just so you could win first place? She has leukemia, Victoria! Her dying wish is to become a champion. Yet you tripped her before the competition, all for a trophy! You're selfish. I don't have a sister like you!" My fiance, who also happens to be the sponsor of the competition, steps onto the stage with a cold expression and announces, "You tested positive for illegal substances. You don't deserve this title. You're disqualified." All the fans turn against me. They boycott me entirely—some even go so far as to create a fake memorial portrait of me, print it, and send it to my doorstep. I quietly keep the photo. I'll probably need it soon anyway. It's been three years since I was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Knowing I don't have much time left, I choose to become the type of person they always wanted me to be—the perfect sister who loves without question, the well-mannered woman who knows when to keep quiet, and the kind of person who never, ever lies.