Why Has Nobody Told Me This Before

What lies beneath the surface of a man who grew up abandoned by his birth parents? A childhood marred by the trials of an orphanage, only to be thrust into a world of even greater adversity after adoption—where he found himself entangled in a web of struggle and darkness, culminating in the ultimate act of taking a life. Jeremy became a mere shell, a living corpse, his existence a mere obligation. Even amidst wealth and power, his heart remained shrouded in sorrow and despair. Until he encountered Melissa Williams—the epitome of boundless optimism, radiating humor and cheerfulness. Will she become the catalyst that breathes life into his weary soul? Can Melissa turn Jeremy's world upside down and chart a new path filled with hope and redemption?

Nefertary is a 17-year-old, multimillionaire, and very popular girl at her school, Alpin Beau Soleil in Switzerland, who hides her true personality. Being the perfect, flawless girl - not even her only friend, Lucia, really knows her. Her mother always demands that she hide who she truly is. After her father's death, two boys come into her life: Mathias and Michael. Only one of them truly knows her, knows her darkest secrets, while the other just plays at releasing the monster... not knowing he might get trapped in the game. If you enter her life, you need to know - you'll only leave dead. Who will regret stepping into Nefertary Ibagon's world? Because you have to be insane to survive in it...

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

On August 23, the Metropolitan Police entered a well-appointed flat at 36 Suffolk Street, in the heart of London. In the flat, they found an ensuite bathroom; in the bathtub, they found a padlocked bag, and in the bag, they found the body of Tina Davis Tina, a brilliant mathematician, worked in Cheltenham for GQHC, Britain's domestic eavesdropping agency. She lived in London on secondment to MI6, Britain's Secret Intelligence Service, and the block of flats where they found her body is an MI6 "safe house reportedly". Uninterested in potential national-security angles, the police immediately announced they were looking for clues to Tina's mysterious death in the details of her private life. But they didn't make much headway. A month after discovering her body, they still hadn't determined the cause of death, although they had admitted the case was "complex" and "unexplained." It seemed like a job for Quintus Noone Fortunately, he happened to be available.

It was my sixth year with the Mafia Don. On the night of my birthday, he came home with a young, beautiful stranger by his side. Everyone thought I would break down or fall apart because of his betrayal. Instead, I smiled, my fingertips brushing lightly over the diamond ring on my ring finger. What they didn’t know was that I had come for revenge. Six years ago, he killed my father and my fiancé. So, I remained by his side, waiting for the right moment to send him to hell. How could I have fallen for him?

My mom always said, "I've never played favorites. "You and your brother mean exactly the same to me." She said it so often I almost believed it. Growing up, anything my brother had, I had too. If he got a new pair of sneakers, so did I. If he signed up for coding classes, I was enrolled in the same ones. Even this year, when we came home for the holidays, my mom smiled as she handed each of us a neatly-packaged designer shopping bag. "I picked these out for you two at the store. One for each of you, exactly the same. "These outdoor brands are expensive, you know. A single jacket costs thousands. I'd never buy one for myself, but I don't mind splurging on you two." I took the jacket. It was well-cut, structured, and looked high-quality. A small warmth stirred in my chest. However, when I tried it on, the collar felt oddly irritating against my skin. Frowning, I pulled back the lining to check. There was a ring of yellowed sweat stains around the label, and tiny flakes of dandruff were caught in the Velcro. A faint musty smell lingered on the cloth, mixed with the stale odor of cheap tobacco. It was sour and impossible to ignore.