What Year Was Naruto Born Novels & Stories

The day I married Santino Connor, he went from the infamous heir of a mafia fortune to a broke nobody. When he handed me a plastic ring in a shabby basement and asked if I would start from scratch with him, I looked at the man I had loved since I was a girl and nodded without a second thought. "Santino, as long as it was with you, I would do anything." For him, I worked more than ten hours a day until my stomach bled from the stress. Our son, from the moment he could walk, trailed me from one odd job to the next. I thought my love could eventually build us a life in the sun. Until, at a lavish banquet where I was serving the elite, he showered me with cash from his seat at the head of the table. "What's that thing crawling on the floor? It's blocking my view!" "Take the money and get out of my sight!" When I saw the woman by his side, her face an eerie copy of my own, I finally understood. To him, this was just a game, and I was the only one playing for keeps. If he was going to go to such lengths to deceive me, then it was time for his game to end. What he didn't know was that one month later, he would be tearing the world apart to find me.

After being given a second chance, a fresh lease on life, Liana was determined not to find herself back in the situation that led to her demise, no matter what. But it soon felt like she got kicked to the curb by fate as her only ticket out turned out to be the cold exiled rogue, Trevor, "The Alpha who never was." He is a man who lost everything for a sin he never committed, but he was punished for it. Bound by mistake, they find themselves in a union they never bargained for. She is supposed to be nothing but a dead weight he'd have to tolerate for the time being. And it was so for some time, until it wasn't. Lines begin to blur, boundaries begin to get crossed. From hate, something is born that only death can come between. As secrets are unveiled, and pasts catch up to the present, they must decide - whether to fight for what fate has thrown at them, or tear each other apart.

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

I'm married to Marcello Marchetti, the Don of the Marchetti family in Newstone. He has an adopted younger sister, Letizia Marchetti, who's supposedly a genius hacker. While she's not related to him by blood, he has raised her since she was a child. One spends all her time wreaking havoc, while the other dutifully cleans up all of her messes for her. Everyone in Newstone knows just how much Marcello dotes on that sister of his. Then, she hacks into my car remotely and messes with the brakes. The car crashes into the road divider at a speed of 120 miles an hour. It flips over three times, and I get caught under the wrecked metal, bleeding profusely. By the time the ambulance arrives, I've gone into shock three times. The blinding lights in the emergency room look like they're mocking me. Marcello stands beside the nurse, signing the consent form as he sighs. "Don't be mad at Letizia. She just thought there was something wrong with the braking system for that car, so she decided to run some tests. She had no idea you'd be using it today." Just then, his phone rings. He takes the call, and after just three seconds, his expression changes. "What did you say, Letizia? Someone spiked your drink at the bar?" He throws the pen down and heads toward the door at once, leaving in such a hurry that he doesn't realize he has selected the wrong blood type on the transfusion consent form. When I see the bag of blood the nurse brings me, my lips twitch. I suddenly lose all desire to stay alive. "Go ahead with the transfusion."

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

Eight years ago, my cousin Wendy Cooper was involved in a drunk driving hit-and-run. Yet, my parents made sure all the evidence pointed toward me. The victim's family waited outside my school every day with gasoline, threatening to die with me. Because of that, the school took away my guaranteed admission to university. That day, my parents and brother all tried to persuade me. "Wendy's terrified. Just give her your spot to make her feel better." I refused, fought back, and even tried to talk them out of it. But the next day, they handed me over to the police themselves. Lance Stewart, my fiance and a powerful business tycoon, had orchestrated it all. As he was afraid I'd run or cause trouble, he personally pinned several charges on me and sent me to an isolated island prison. He left me with no way out. When my sentence began, he made me a promise. "Esme, just endure it for a few years. I'll get you out once Wendy graduates, and then we'll get married."

"There's a foreign object lodged in the patient's lower region. Due to the unique circumstances, we need the patient's next of kin to sign the consent form for an extraction procedure." My body stiffens when I see the name on the consent form. "I'm Renee Becker's next of kin." It's Liam Cassidy who says that. He's the first love of my wife, Renee Becker, who has been away for a month, claiming she's off on a business trip. Liam doesn't recognize me. He takes the pen and signs the consent form. In the section to mark his relationship to the patient, he writes the word "husband". After passing the pen back to me, he grips my hand tightly and beseeches me, "Doctor, you must do everything you can to help her. She's carrying my baby." As I wrench my hand back from him, my wedding ring slips off and falls onto the floor.

Every tear I shed feeds his ego. Every whimper, his pride. Every bruise he leaves behind, his silent claim over me. He takes me cold. Leaves me ruined. And I wait - quiet, breathless, for the next time he comes back to break me again. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hand. Thinks I’m nothing without him. A fragile wife, meek, obedient. A weakness he never needed. I let him believe it. I never tried to break the illusion. As long as I have his hands on me, As long as his shadows reach for me, That’s enough. But in the dark, daggers roam. And with every sound my heels make, they fall. He still thinks I’m glass, But he hasn’t heard me shatter.

I was blind for three years. The day I saw again, I watched my billionaire husband betray me—and I smiled. I was blind for three years. The day I got my sight back, I watched my billionaire husband in bed with my cousin. He thought I couldn’t see him. He thought I was still his fragile, obedient wife—his experiment. He was wrong. While he whispered, “She’ll never witness this,” I stood in the dark… and chose revenge. He broke my heart. I’ll dismantle his empire. Alexander Kane doesn’t know the truth: I’m not just his wife. I’m the woman behind the most dangerous secret powering his fortune— and the only one who can destroy it. Now three powerful men are closing in: The crime prince who claims I was always his The investor who helped erase my past And my husband… who would burn the world before letting me go They want to control me. They want to use me. They want to own me. But I’m done being powerless. Phase III launches in seven days. Twelve lives will be destroyed—just like mine was. Unless I stop it. Unless I outplay them all. Unless I win.