Novel & Cerita Where Was Sandra Cisneros Born

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.

The battery on my front door smart lock died, so I called a locksmith to come over. While he was working on the lock, he made small talk. "Dude, this lock comes with six spare keys. Did you lock all of them inside the apartment?" I froze. I've lived in this apartment for three years. My wife and I each have one spare key. The other three were always kept in the hallway drawer. That makes five total. So where's the sixth key?

It was hard for Charlotte to let go of her best friend, Dalton, the boy she fell in love with since she was nine years old, to make way for her sister, Caroline, who happens to be in love with him too. It was hard for her but in order to make someone happy, even if it meant sacrificing her own, she was willing to let go. It all happened around her senior year, where she let go of the only thing that mattered to her and after graduation, she moved away with no intention of going back. Four years later, on her college graduation day, her parents rather demanded her to come home with a reason that shocked her senseless.

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."

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.

Jessica walked down the aisle against her will to replace her best friend and to save her mother’s life. She never agreed to fall in love with the Billionaire she married but only to survive him. Forced into a contract marriage with powerful hotel mogul John Lewis, she becomes a wife in name only, trapped by threats, silence, and fear. But when her best friend returns with dangerous lies and a fake pregnancy, Jessica is discarded like she was never meant to matter. Except the truth refuses to stay buried. Now John is begging her to stay but Jessica must decide whether to endure the disrespect… or walk away and protect her dignity.

Three days before I got married, Evan Jones' claustrophobic ex-girlfriend cornered my car at the cliff of a winding road and rammed into me 12 times. When Evan arrived with the police, I was being rescued by the firefighters from my driver's seat, which had been smashed out of shape. However, Evan went to the limited-edition sports car, which had only lost some paint, and carried the trembling Nikki Shore in his arms. "Evan, Madison is bleeding on her forehead; she needs to get it stitched up at the hospital." However, Evan stopped my stretcher from getting into the car and glanced at my bleeding forehead and bruised arms. "These are just minor injuries, but Nikki has claustrophobia. Her condition will only get worse, and she has to go to the hospital first." As I was about to be left behind, I used the last of my strength to grab Evan by his pant leg. He frowned and pried off my fingers. "Nikki didn't crash into you on purpose. It's just her condition acting up. You're a lawyer, and you should know how some things are beyond our control, so stop making a fuss right now." With that, his assistant handed him a settlement agreement, and Evan grabbed my limp wrist to print my fingerprint on the papers. "Just bear with this. The ambulance will be coming soon."

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…

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."