Will Naruto Die

I'm a married woman who committed adultery shortly after getting married. In hindsight, the first time I came to close to cheating happened under my husband's orchestration…

Tres días antes de nuestra boda, mi prometido, Raphael Russo, fue asesinado en un tiroteo entre bandas. Ni siquiera encontraron su cuerpo. Mientras me ahogaba en el dolor, unos comentarios aparecieron frente a mis ojos: [¡Despierta, niña! ¡El ataúd está vacío! ¡Fingió su muerte! El infeliz huyó para estar con esa perra manipuladora de Chloe, la que finge estar enferma]. [Mientras tú te desmoronas llorando en el funeral, Raphael se está revolcando con Chloe en la cama de un hotel]. [Cuando regrese, dirá que tiene amnesia. No sabrás nada y lo perdonarás. Pobrecita...]. Un mes después, la noticia de mi matrimonio con el Don de la mafia, Marcello Falcone, se extendió por toda Nueva York. La mano derecha de Raphael me acorraló, furioso. —¿Cómo pudiste traicionar al Jefe? Sujeté con más fuerza el brazo de Marcello y sonreí. —Una mujer no puede guardar luto para siempre, ¿verdad? Estoy segura de que Raphael, en espíritu, se sentiría feliz por mí.

Five years after my death, my daughter, Emma, dialed Xander Green’s number. She cautiously asked, "Do you like my mom?" She was trying to get an answer to the question I once wrote in my diary. "Xander, do you like me?" Unexpectedly, the voice on the other end sneered, "Did your mom put you up to this? Using her own daughter like a pawn? What an unfaithful woman! She’s already with your dad, yet still trying to rekindle things with me?"

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

I spent a year starving for a man who wouldn't touch me. Then his father and brother decided to feast. Rob called me a slut when I begged him to fuck me. Made me feel worthless for craving his hands on my body. Then he let another woman suck his cock right in front of me—and told me she did it better. I should have left. But I followed him to his family's private island in Italy instead. That's where I met them. Victor Marchetti. Rob's father. Silver hair, ice-blue eyes, and a body built for sin. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole. When his hand touched the small of my back, I felt it between my thighs. Dante. The older brother. Dark, dangerous, and built like he could break me apart with his bare hands. One look from those black eyes and I was wet. One word from that deep voice and I was ready to drop to my knees. I tried to resist. Tried to remember I had a boyfriend sleeping down the hall. But they hunted me. Cornered me. Made me admit what my body had been screaming for. When they finally took me—both of them, at the same time, claiming every hole, every sound, every desperate whimper—I understood what I'd been missing. Victor's hand around my throat while Dante buried himself so deep I couldn't breathe. Two men who didn't just want me. They needed me. Owned me. Ruined me for anyone else. Rob made me beg for scraps. His father and brother made me scream their names.

My boyfriend Julian is a chess grandmaster, a genius. At sixteen, he became the youngest grandmaster in North American history. I gave him ten years of my life, but a ring was never on the table. But when he reached the pinnacle of his career and won the Grand Slam, he still refused to break the pact he'd made with his family about his career. "According to my plan, I'm not considering marriage or any other form of long-term commitment until all my goals are achieved." I didn't argue with him. I quietly packed his luggage for the World Championship and wished him the best. He had no idea that at the very moment he was lifting the championship trophy with the world watching, I was dragging my failing body to sign my own name on a euthanasia consent form.

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

El día de mi cumpleaños, en la fiesta, mi esposo David Herrera apareció de repente con mi hermana adoptiva y su hijo. Al prepararnos para salir, él, con total naturalidad, colocó a mi hermana adoptiva en el asiento del copiloto y luego me dijo: —Los niños se marean fácil, atrás hay demasiadas cosas, tú estás bien y puedes ir en autobús. Mis amigas no hicieron más que asentir: —Eres la hermana mayor, cuidar del hijo de tu hermana es lo que toca. Cuatro autos, y ningún lugar para mí, la protagonista. Me subí al autobús con el corazón resentido y vi en el chat del grupo de paseo a David y Ana Blanco interactuando de manera demasiado cercana. Incluso hablaban de cosas que yo desconocía por completo. Cuando abrí el nuevo video que me habían enviado, en la mesa que habían preparado para mí solo quedaban sobras. Hasta el pastel de cumpleaños que había cuidado con esmero, David se lo dio a Ana y su hija como postre. Alguien no pudo soportarlo y le preguntó si eso no estaba mal. David, limpiando cuidadosamente la boca de Ana, ni siquiera levantó la cabeza: —Somos familia, Brittany Moreno no se va a enojar. En ese instante, nuestro matrimonio de siete años llegó a su fin.

"Answer my question and I would more than love to continue." I find myself nodding frantically and his chuckle echoes in his body. "Use your words." I find myself blushing again but I say nothing. He pulls a breath away from me. When I continue to say nothing he leans back down, briefly brushing his lips over mine with no pressure behind it. His hand on the base of my neck moves up slightly, tilting my head back to his side so my neck is to him. His fingertips brushing over my skin sends a large wave of tingles through me and I can't suppress the shudder that leaves me. He brushes his nose against my neck and I tighten my fisted hand to a point of pain. His hand on my waist quickly goes to my fisted knuckles and smooths them out onto his chest once again. "Can you feel how fast my heart beats for you, Celeste?" It is much faster now. "It's because it belongs to you. All of me? Belongs to you." ~ Finding herself suddenly alone and injured, Celeste finds herself on the grounds of one of the largest packs in the country. Scared of what will become of herself, she never expected to meet her mate and she definitely didn’t expect him to be the Alpha of the pack. Xavier always longed to meet his mate, longed to complete his family. And when she, a rogue and a runt, ends up on his pack lands, he vows to protect and love her. Only how can he protect her when mysteriously scentless rogues are attacking more packs every day? When an old enemy of Celeste’s makes an appearance in plain sight? When every sign of danger seems to be pointed in Celeste’s direction?

“I never wanted you or our daughter.” For five years, I pretended to be in a happy marriage with Andrew Morgan. I left my career to be with this billionaire bachelor to raise a family with him. A family that he never wanted. Of course, I should have known that his heart is still with Eleanor Walsh. Why else would he come chasing after her after she abandoned him for years? I was blind with love, and now my daughter and I are paying the price. “I need you here with me now,” I said. “Our daughter is in danger.” “Eleanor and Lottie need me more!” Andrew snapped. I begged. I cried. None of that mattered to Andrew. Even then, I had hope. I had love. But all of that changed when I found myself alone, with my dead daughter in my arms. “You can spend all your time with Eleanor and Lottie,” I spat at him. “We’re going to be divorced soon!” Andrew caught me by the wrist and stopped me. “You’re not going anywhere. Who said I agreed to the divorce?”