The Fifties

When I was five, Mom and Dad took my little brother to the city for kindergarten and left me in a mountain village with my grandfather, who had dementia. Before they left, Dad told me to take care of Grandpa, watch the house, and protect the yard. Mom said I was the older brother, so I had to be sensible. They said that once they made enough money, they'd bring me to the city too. I didn't want to let go. I clung to Mom's leg and begged through tears, "Mom, please. I don't want to be separated from you." My tears and snot smeared across her expensive dress. She scolded me for being difficult, slapped my bottom until it swelled, and struck my face hard enough to break the skin. In the end, they didn't soften. They left and never came back. Three months later, when I was close to starving, I called Mom and begged her to send me something to eat. She snapped, irritated, "A boy who talks about being hungry every day? Why don't you just starve, then? How can there be nothing to eat in the countryside? "Your father and I are under so much pressure in the city. Can't you be sensible for once?" Her words came true. That winter, I starved to death. Five years later, Mom pushed open the rotten door. "Miles," she called. "Mom's back."

Do you believe that first love can't forget by the heart? Do you still even know who you are in the past? Do you believe that you could incarnate to continue the love with your first love? Cassandra Vaughn starting to dream about the castle with a lot of people in there, she doesn't know any clue. But one thing she remember, her dream repeated always. Until she find the way to find the true meaning of it. That place, it makes her remember the things of the woman in her dream. Is she really the girl from 1952? What she found? "Please... Take me back in 1952"

Life as Naomi knows, has already taken a huge leap from what she knew it as. At just 5 years, turning 6, the little girl has been thrown into the darker truths of the world. She and her family sold to slavery.But things only seem to get better to get worse. When she and her young mistress both turn 16, she must now leave her family and face the higher society with people far worse than the ones she knew ... And a certain gentleman whose interest in her might lead to her own detriment.

The year I lost my sight at five, I found Stellan Hale half-frozen in the snow. I told my mother I wanted a companion to guide me and begged her to take him in. Then I leaned close to his ear and whispered a promise. "I don't need you to be my guide dog. Just stay alive. Go wherever you want to go." Still, Stellan stayed. After Mom remarried, he became the only person I had left. He watched over me as I grew up, serving as my eyes and my cane year after year. He even gave up his extraordinary talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my sight. Even after he became one of the most brilliant ophthalmologists in the country, I still could not see. On my 25th birthday, someone he had once been close to won a prestigious art prize. He shut himself inside the study, and I could hear pages rustling behind the door. He told me, his voice carefully even, that he was writing my birthday wishes. I smiled and moved toward him, wanting to kiss his cheek, when words suddenly scrolled across the darkness behind my eyes. "Wake up, you blind little fool. He's tearing every one of his paintings to shreds. On the back of each one, he even wrote 'Go to hell, Elara Langley.' "Stop walking. There's a wire on the floor ahead of you. One more step and you're dead." I froze. Then I smiled again and kept walking. "Stel, Stel, every wish you made for me is going to come true."

When I woke up that morning and happened to glance at the mirror, a scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. Because on the face I had always taken such pride in, there was now a jagged, horrifying scar. As terror gripped me, a cool, detached female voice cut through the air beside me. "What are you shrieking about so early in the morning? Scared by your own ugly face?" I looked up in shock and realized the voice belonged to my girlfriend, Alicia. Only—she wasn't the same girl from yesterday. Gone was the youthful innocence I remembered. In its place, every movement, every glance radiated the allure of a mature woman. The words slipped out before I could hold them back. "Babe… you're gorgeous…" But Alicia's brows knit together, her gaze colder than ice. "Kurt, drop the act!" Act? I was at a loss. Why would she accuse me of pretending? "Don't call me the way you used to five years ago. It's disgusting." Five years ago? But… I'm still twenty-three… am I not?

“Why are you keeping yourself away from me? I know you want me, you want me the same way that I want you. Why are trying to resist me? What are you so afraid of?!” Lucrezia is getting frustrated day by day. She could see it in his eyes that he wants her, she could feel his love with how he worries about her. Why does he keep pushing her away from him? Pietro Carusso is the Don of the Carusso family, the most powerful and richest crime family among the five. As a mafia, he has his own principles; never trust anyone, never get attached to anyone. He built tall walls around his heart to protect himself, but Lucrezia came to his life like a flame, and in this story he is the moth attracted to the flame. The Italian princess is everything he should stir away from, but how could he? She is the fire to his groin. An Italian curse from her mouth is enough to drive him mad. And she curses… a lot. With her beautiful body, cursed eyes and wicked lips. He doesn’t know how long he could hold himself much longer. “I love you and you are mine now. Just let me love you, Don.”