When the war genius returned back, he found that his daughter was abused and his beloved one was imprisoned. The world shattered for his rage and many big shots rushed over, kneeling and shouting, "Welcome, Master."
When the war genius returned back, he found that his daughter was abused and his beloved one was imprisoned. The world shattered for his rage and many big shots rushed over, kneeling and shouting, "Welcome, Master."
When I was little I would play in out in my backyard, sometimes by myself and other times with my mother. My mother never treated me like a clueless child, even though I was. We played in the sandpit most of the time. She would always say that the sandpit was her favorite place to play. "You could build anything in here," She used to tell me.
I didn't know that any moment I could possibly lose her. I didn't know that wolves would kill our bodyguard, or that they would rip my mother's head clean off her body. But they did, and I saw it all. I shouldn't have, but it happened.
"The pup saw everything. What should we do with her?" The man asked, looking at me.
"Leave her, she hasn't done anything," The woman replied, obviously choosing to be sympathetic. I doubt she realized they killed my mother; or that I was the Alpha's child.
"But she could come after us," The same man said to her.
She growled at him, "Leave the pup, she deserves to grow up. At least we haven't killed the whole pack." They turned away, shifting and running off into the brush.
I was unable to move, just sitting there, and I cried; cried like the weak child I was. I sobbed because I couldn't do anything about the fact that my pack members had died around me.
We had been ambushed – that I understood – but I hadn't done anything to stop them; even if it got me killed in the process.
I saw wolves running in my direction, caught their scent and realized they were my pack, and I cried harder. They will see that I did nothing and that this is all my fault.
I watched as my father took in the surroundings – processed what had happened – and broke. Right here in front of me he broken down and he cried.
The Alpha lost his mate, the pack lost their Luna, and I lost my mother; and I thought I would lose my father with her.
One of the wolves came up to me, nudging me with his big nose; I heard him in my head.
Don't blame yourself, Chloe, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have stopped it if you tried.
I turned around and hugged him. His coat was soft, and I realized it was Beta Samuel; he was like an uncle to me. He shifted and picked me up.
"Let's go back inside," He whispered, letting me cuddle into him.
"What about Daddy?" I asked tearfully, read to burst into another round of tears.
"He'll be okay, Chlo. Let him mourn the loss of his mate. It wasn't your fault, Kiddo," He told me reassuringly, holding me close and walking towards the house.
I was sitting in my fathers office while he was out with some of the other pack members. I did quite a bit of pack work, considering I was the next Alpha.
I went through some files and signed a few papers. Honestly, I didn't mind pack work. It took my mind off the things I was stressing over and made me focus.
Compared to my dad, I was super organised. I think I have a low form of OCD. It isn't always there but when it came to pack work. I was all over the organisation of it.
My dad is always saying how one day I'll run the pack with my mate. I've always let him live that dream of me finding my mate and being happy, but honestly, I don't want one.
I watched what it did to my father. He wasn't the same afterwards. For way too long he would barely come out of this office. He spent a lot of time burying himself in pack work.
It took him so long to be able to stop showing what the loss of his mate was doing to him. I know he hasn't recovered from it. I sometimes still hear the odd strangled sound from someone trying to not make any sounds while crying.
Nothing good came from my mother being killed. Although I became closer to my father a while after she died. Once he finally got it through his head that he did have a child to love, and that he couldn't spend his whole life wallowing in self pity.
I remember how he apologised so many times once he realised I was still here, and I remember how at night he would apologise to mum about how he was a terrible father.
I used to tell him that he wasn't, that even though I didn't understand what he was going through. I still lost my mummy and that I was here with him through it all.
We became a lot closer after that. He read me bedtime stories. He took me to school on the first day of year 3. He said he'd make up for all the days he left me out of, and he did.
I was so lost in my thought that when the door slammed open, I jumped out of my seat and only feet, ready to attack whoever was coming in.
"Chloe! We're being invaded." Samuel practically screamed at me. Well that's shit.
"What! Who's invading?" I yell back, who's invading us, our pack isn't worth that much.
"Dark Blood." The horror was written all over his face. Why is that pack invading us? What do we have that they want? Argh!
"Well shit." I knew we were doomed. They were one of the strongest packs around.
"Chloe, you're dads already out there. What are we going to do?" Samuel asks me, going into business mode.
"We join him, and protect our pack." I'm already running out of the house. I am going to give these assholes a fight.
It was the first time she saw him when she was eighteen years old. She was penniless and frustrated while he was incomparably noble, like a deity from heaven. She thought that she had found redemption, but only later did she find out that she had fallen into hell. Reuben Terrell felt that Melanie Fischer was a pushover, and he could always control her. He never thought that one day, Melanie would dare to turn around and leave him without hesitation.
Taraji Inez Monroe was going through the toughest time of her life. Her mother had been diagnosed with a serious heart condition and needed emergency surgery to get a stent put in. The only problem was that the surgery cost a fortune, and Tara was desperate to find a way to save her mother's life. She had been blessed with good looks and a banging body, and she knew that there was only one thing she could sell to raise the money her mother needed. And what better place than a high-end club to kickstart her plan where she knew the highest bidders would be? As she made her way through the swarming mass of people, her gaze fell upon a man who emanated an aura of mystery. He was ruggedly handsome, with sharp features and a firm jawline. His eyes were deep-set and piercing. Despite his captivating appearance, there was an air of arrogance about him that made her hesitate and before she knew it, she was in his hotel room bent over. Antonio Nikos Valioso, the bipolar heir claimed her virtue in the most brutal way possible and then announced that he would marry her as tradition demanded. ...
Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancée!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.
Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.
For ten years, I secretly loved my guardian, Ethan Hayes. After my family fell apart, he took me in and raised me. He was my entire world. On my eighteenth birthday, I gathered all my courage to confess my love to him. But his reaction was a fury I had never seen before. He swept my birthday cake to the floor and roared, "Are you insane? I am your GUARDIAN!" He then mercilessly tore the painting I had spent a year on-my confession-to shreds. Just days later, he brought home his fiancée, Chloe. The man who had promised to wait for me to grow up, who called me his brightest star, had vanished. My decade of desperate, burning love had only managed to burn myself. The person who was supposed to protect me had become the one who hurt me the most. I looked down at the NYU acceptance letter in my hand. I had to leave. I had to pull him out of my heart, no matter how much it hurt. I picked up the phone and dialed my father's number. "Dad," I said, my voice hoarse, "I've decided. I want to come be with you in New York."
Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.
The day I saw Jared Stanley's interview, I filed for divorce and moved out of the perfectly maintained home I'd shared with him for three years. In that interview, Jared said his biggest regret in life was that, in a life-or-death situation, he instinctively protected what he called his most "precious national asset." The "asset" he protected wasn't me, his wife. It was his "fragile" colleague, Bailee Brooks. Two days later, at the global press conference for the G20 summit. The same renowned war correspondent asked me the same question. "Ms. Quinn, as a top-tier simultaneous interpreter, what would you say is the professional principle you are most proud of?" I looked directly at Jared sitting in the front row. "True professionalism is knowing that my husband risked his life to protect his mistress, and still being able to calmly, as the lead interpreter, accurately convey the commands that would ultimately save him."
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