Xfinity Internet Blinking Orange Novels & Stories

Three years ago, I was the most promising member of the Scientific Expedition Team. After entering Salakole, I was killed by my fiancé's true love, Vivian Fowler. She stole my supplies, scratched my face, and pushed me off the ship. I died with my second child in my belly. But when the rescue team came, Vivian said I had stolen her supplies and was going to flee. My fiancé, Winston Patton, wrote a report and erased me from the expedition team. From then on, I became a joke. All the people on the team looked down on me. Until three years later, someone discovered my long-frozen body.

A trending tag read: "Emil Carson's mistress is pregnant." On my birthday, he came home with a woman who had a slightly visible baby bump. "Caprice is pregnant. I need to make sure she and the baby are properly taken care of. I’ll need you to cooperate. For now, we’ll go through a temporary divorce. Don’t worry. Once the baby is born, we’ll get married again." I did not cry or make a scene. I proceeded with the divorce from Emil. When we stepped out of the city hall, he expressed in a pleased manner, "Just stay low and keep to yourself. I'll contact you after Caprice gives birth." Then, his tone suddenly became threatening. "But if you cause any kind of trouble for Caprice, you can give up on any chance of remarrying me." I nodded quietly. However, I waited until they had their second baby, and yet there did not seem to be any initiative on his part to remarry me. It did not matter anymore. I was about to give birth to twins—a son and a daughter. Just like Emil, I was going to become a parent of two. If anything, I was afraid of him barging back into my life and disturbing my peace. After all, I now have a partner who has a particular streak of jealousy.

My stepson pushes me down from the second floor, all because I accidentally break a bowl. He stands over me, looking down with a cold, emotionless gaze. "You're just a stand-in my grandfather forced on us. Don't even think about replacing my mother!" I stare up at the boy I've raised for eight years, and his indifference cuts deeper than any wound. Blood slowly trickles down from my forehead. Fighting through the pain, I dial a number. "Whatever debt I owed has been paid. It's time for me to leave." Coincidentally, I already have the divorce agreement that his father has signed.

On New Year's Eve, my older brother, Casper Shaw, attempted to expose me as a fraud and announced that Jenny Ford was the real heiress to the family. He pulled out a paternity test result and threw it in my face. "Open your eyes and take a look! Jenny is the Shaw family's real daughter. You're just a fake who has taken Jenny's place for so many years, yet you still have the nerve to sit here and eat New Year's Eve dinner with us!" Then, he pushed Jenny in front of us, revealing a face that looked exactly like my mom, Theresa. Everyone froze. I lunged for the report, but suddenly, a stream of floating comments rolled past above Jenny's head. [Is the female lead finally going back to her rich family and starting a sweet romance with her fake older brother?] [Not yet. Right now, they still think they're siblings. They only get together later, once the misunderstandings are cleared up.] [Am I the only one who feels bad for the female supporting character? She's the biggest victim in the whole book. She takes all the female lead's hatred that should have gone to her fake brother, and she gets treated as the fake heiress and sent to the Ford family to suffer on top of that.] I looked at Jenny's face and compared it to my own—we almost looked like twins. I checked our ID cards again, confirming that our dates of birth were exactly the same. "Seriously? Ever think that you might be the real impostor here who was switched at birth?"

The little boy I had saved when we were kids grew up to be a possessive, obsessive CEO. For ten years, he kept me by his side, using my grandmother's illness as a bargaining chip to force me into marrying him. He tried everything to win my heart, pulling every trick in the book, but no matter what he did, he could never make me love him. In a fit of rage, he found a woman who looked almost exactly like me to take my place. They flaunted their relationship for everyone to see, and people whispered that the CEO had finally found his true love. But that day, the woman, riding on his affection, barged into the villa with her entourage. She broke my fingers one by one, slashed my face with a utility knife, and removed my clothes to humiliate me. "Even though you had surgery to look like me, I'll let that slide. But you even learned to paint like me, too? You really did your homework. Let's see how you try to seduce men now!" Just as I was bleeding out and on the verge of death, the obsessive CEO finally showed up. The stand-in grabbed my hair and dragged me in front of him, smugly reporting, "Honey, this wench was hiding in the villa trying to seduce you. I've made sure she can't succeed!"

Blurb She was his wife. But he only ever mourned another woman. Julian Hale rules an empire with a merciless hand, feared by everyone and worshipped like he was a god. Yet the greatest cruelty of his life was reserved for the woman who shared his bed. Emily lived every day being compared to a dead woman, she was humiliate and tortured by the very man she gave her all. Emily loved Julian quietly, desperately, hoping that one day he would see her. But when lies are fed into a man already blinded by resentment, love doesn’t stand a chance. On the day Emily discovers she is pregnant, Julian announces their divorce in front of everyone. Broken beyond repair, Emily disappears, leaving behind a staged death, fragments of her diary, and a truth that will hunt Julian for the rest of his life. But when fate throws her back into Julian’s path, he was shocked to his bones to see that his dead Luna was another man's wife! he becomes obsessed with reclaiming the woman he once discarded.

I was Brandon Sandler’s most cherished canary—pampered, sheltered, and utterly his for five years. Then came the news of his engagement to another woman. Only then did I realize his affection had been a carefully crafted revenge. He trapped me by his side, flaunting his love for another while subjecting me to relentless humiliation. Eventually, I stopped caring. But the ruthless business tycoon, who once held himself above all, clutched me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come home. He said he regretted everything. My hand instinctively cradled my stomach as I glanced at the man behind him. “Darling,” I murmured, “this man is scaring our baby.”

When Sylvia Reed postponed our wedding for the fifth time, I found a pregnancy test report in her bag and decided to force the issue. Then I saw a trending local post. A woman rolled up her sleeves, baking cookies. Beside her, a man bent down to tease a child. One look was enough. I recognized the scar on her wrist. It was in the exact same spot as the one Sylvia got years ago when she took a knife for me. The scarf draped over the man's shoulders was one I'd custom-made for Sylvia. Our initials were stitched into it. The sight burned. I thought about how Sylvia had been glued to her phone lately, and how I'd heard a baby crying through it. Ten minutes ago, she'd sent me a voice message. "Luke, something urgent came up at the company. I can't make it back to try on the suit with you. Maybe we should postpone the wedding again? Next year. We'll definitely do it next year." But I'd already waited seven years for this wedding. I took off my groom's suit and cut it to pieces. Then I wiped my eyes, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I hadn't called in seven years. "I'm short a bride for my wedding. Interested?"

She accidentally summoned the great Demon King but all she ever wanted was to get rid of her ghosts. “Can I take it back?” She asked, blinking innocently with her soft long eyelashes. “You’ve sealed the contract with the kiss. There’s no going back now.” A smirk played at his plump red lips.

The freshman welcome party was loud—music blasting, people screaming over it. Then the external pacemaker on my chest started shrieking. 10 percent battery. Cold sweat hit fast. I always carried a backup. Always. I yanked open my backpack. No heavy medical battery pack. Just a flimsy power bank. One blinking bar.