Is It Possible To Remove Borrowed Books From Kindle?

I’d been with Hurley, the heir to the Crescent Claw pack, for seven years. He’d insisted on throwing me a huge birthday party. But on the day of the party, Hurley gave the million-dollar custom gown my mother had commissioned for me to his childhood friend, Rachel. He said it so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Rachel’s dress got ruined, and we couldn’t find a replacement in time. You two are about the same size, so I just let her borrow it.” “I remember you have a few backup dresses, right? Why don’t you just wear one of those tonight?” I thought back on the past seven years, and how this wasn't the first time he'd put me second for Rachel. For one of my birthdays, he gave me a cheap necklace from a street stall but bought Rachel a ruby necklace at a high-end auction. His excuse? “You’re an Alpha’s daughter; you already have everything. Rachel’s different.” When I was sick with a fever and needed him, he was busy comforting Rachel because she was afraid of the dark. He’d told me, “Rachel’s fragile and timid. She needs me more.” It happened over and over again. This time, I was finally done. The borrowed dress and the unfaithful man—I wanted neither.

I was Alpha Adrian’s mate, his Luna, and the woman who held his pack together for ten years. Then he decided Bianca needed “protection.” Protection meant giving her his name in front of the Pack Council. It meant letting her stand at his right hand, wear the Luna jewels, and let her daughter call him Daddy while our son waited for him at home. He called it duty. He called it temporary. He expected me to understand. I did. I understood that every time he had to choose, he chose someone else. So I stopped begging for the place that was already mine. I took our son, walked into the severance ritual, and tore our mate bond out by the roots. Adrian thought I would come back once his guilt caught up with him. But by the time he realized what he had lost, I was already free.

At the family dinner over the holidays, Elias Barrett has given all of our relatives and their children thick wads of cash. When it's my turn, he just frowns at me. "We've been together for so long. What's the point in going through the motions? You're the one managing the finances, so you can just withdraw what you need from the account." I merely nod without saying anything. But soon, I notice a text message from his bank popping out on the notifications' list. "You have transferred 1,430 dollars to Jamie Sutton. Remark: Babe, happy holidays. XOXO Elias." It turns out that Elias' anti-formalism rule is meant for me, not others. I don't bother starting a fight or throwing a tantrum. Instead, I just cancel the booking on my wedding venue that will be used next month. After that, I shred the kidney donation consent form meant for Elias into pieces. Once the holidays are over, I'm not going to extend Elias' life for him anymore.

On our wedding anniversary, I did not say a word to my husband. I simply booked a plane ticket and left town on a business trip with my supervisor. He grabbed my arm, anger blazing in his eyes. "It's our anniversary, and you're spending it with someone else? Have you lost your mind?" I frowned, impatient, and shook him off. Without another glance, I got into the car heading for the airport. In my previous life, everything had started with his so-called first love. After multiple abortions, her uterine lining had become too thin for her to ever carry a child. So, she stole one. When the child's parents tried to take their baby back, she hit the gas, knocking them to the ground and killing them. However, when the truth came out, the police arrested me. I protested my innocence. I appealed. I even demanded a public trial. In response, they produced dashcam footage that clearly showed me abducting the child and running down the parents. To make matters worse, my fingerprints were found inside the car. I was completely shattered. Convicted on the spot, I was sentenced to death. My parents, unable to bear the shock, both fell ill and passed away soon after. After my death, my husband remarried in grand fashion, with his beloved 'first love' by his side. Together, they even adopted the very stolen child, becoming a couple everyone praised as perfect. Only then did I understand. It had all been their scheme. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day it all began.

"Hey, what's your laptop's specs?" My colleague, Dexter Grant, pushes my laptop back to me with a deep frown on his face. I'm busy editing my blueprints, so I respond to him without lifting my head. "It's the latest model. The motherboard is i7 12-Gen, and I have a 64-GB ram installed in it. What's wrong?" "That's impossible!" Dexter shakes his head. "All I did was open Photoshop earlier, and yet the laptop was stuck for three whole minutes! Not even my own laptop, which has lasted me for three years, is as slow as yours! "Also, there are scratch marks left behind by a screwdriver on your laptop's casing. It's clear that someone has cracked your case in the past before installing it back on." My heart sinks at Dexter's observations. I quickly flip over my laptop and take a look at it. It's true that there are two fresh scratches near the laptop's vent. The edge of the casing was slightly jutted upward as well. The sight leaves me shell-shocked. The thing is, my laptop was still fine when my cousin, Joe Clinton, borrowed it from me three months ago…

Not expecting to be bumped into and insulted by the new exchange student, Alexis finds it hard to even be around Joshua, after he accused her of stealing his phone to get his attention. Things get more complicated because Joshua is not only the new exchange student, but also one of the most popular teenager popstar.