What Is Leslie Carol Shatner'S Connection To William Shatner?

“I’m pregnant too.” Sonia, my husband’s girlfriend said to me with a voice lifts with theatrical innocence. “Chase doesn’t know yet,” she continues casually. “I wanted to wait till the divorce is finalized. That way everyone will know I didn’t need to trap him with a baby… like you did.” There it is. The knife twist. Her eyes glitter with triumph as she walks out. I open my tote bag. The divorce agreement slides out easily. A thick stack of paper demanding my complete surrender of any claim to the Warren empire. In exchange for freedom. The woman who fractured herself trying to build a family out of dust is gone. I slide the signed documents into the top drawer of Chase’s desk. Let him find it. Let him choke on it.

Selina Amber Rodriguez married Damien Whitmore at twenty-two, not because he loved her, but because his grandmother demanded it. Her parents died in a car accident pulling a teenage Damien out of the wreckage — a debt the Whitmore family patriarch considered sacred and his grandmother considered a transaction. Two years later, Selina is the most elegantly kept secret in the Whitmore empire: present at every gala, photographed beside a man who looks through her at someone else, and invisible in every way that matters. She is not stupid. She is not weak. She is simply a woman who made the mistake of loving someone before she understood the cost. Now she is pregnant. And she is leaving.

Some lines should never be crossed. Some desires should never be felt. Nineteen-year-old Bella Morgan is still grieving her father's mysterious death when her mother drops a bombshell: she's remarried. To a billionaire. To Dominic Hayes, a man too young, too powerful, too devastatingly attractive to be anyone's stepfather. Bella wants to hate him. She should hate him. But when her world shatters after a brutal betrayal, it's Dominic who finds her broken and alone. It's Dominic who saves her from danger. And it's Dominic whose arms she falls into on a night that changes everything. One forbidden kiss. One terrible mistake. One secret that could destroy them all. Now Bella can't stop thinking about the man who should be off-limits. And Dominic, controlled, untouchable Dominic Hayes, is fighting a battle he's already lost. Because staying away from his stepdaughter is the one thing his billion-dollar empire can't buy him the strength to do. When obsession meets desperation, when scandal threatens to explode, and when a pregnancy test holds the power to end everything... How far will they go to protect a love that should never have begun? A dark, addictive forbidden romance that will leave you breathless.

Leon Santoro's ex-wife and their daughter pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby. Leon came to see me in the hospital. He sat beside the bed, his expression as composed as always, and said, "She's a child. She didn't know what she was doing. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I apologize for Rosalie." "That's it?" I asked. "Just an apology?" He turned to look at me. "What else do you want? Money? Stock?" "I can't exactly make Rosalie pay with her life for what happened to your child." Your child. Not our child. So he truly never cared about the baby I was carrying. He'd made a promise to his ex-wife Giselle: Rosalie would be his only child. When I told him I was pregnant, he'd barely reacted. Just a shrug and a flat "I know," like I'd told him the weather. Thinking about it now, I looked at him and asked quietly, "You're relieved, aren't you? Now that the baby's gone."

I had just suffered a miscarriage. With trembling fingers, I called my husband, only to hear the sounds of a rowdy party on the other end. "Don, this was supposed to be your anniversary gift for your wife," a voice teased amidst the cheers. "Giving it to Miss Lena instead—aren't you afraid your lady will throw a fit?" Vincent's voice was deep and dismissive. "Lena's brother died saving my life. I owe her. As for Isabella... she's gentle. She'll understand." He paused, his tone turning colder. "Besides, she came to me with those scandalous rumors surrounding her past. The resources the Corleone family has given her over the years are more than enough to compensate for these little grievances." As blood stained the hem of my skirt, I silently pressed the end-call button. Tears fell uncontrollably. He doesn't know yet—the baby is gone, and I am finally done with him.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.