Who Wrote The Red Cross: A History Of This Remarkable International Movement In The Interest Of Humanity?

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my identity.The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

To save my father-in-law, I donated a kidney—but on the very day I was discharged, she didn't hesitate for a second to shove me into the guest room. "Those centipede-like scars are disgusting. Don't show yourself to me again!" In the dead of night, my wound tore open. I collapsed into a pool of blood, dialing her number 100 times, desperate for help. She hung up every single time. Meanwhile, the master bedroom echoed with Theo Reynold's low, passionate growls. In that instant, every ounce of strength drained from me. When I was admitted to the hospital, I held the military medal my mother had left me on her deathbed. That was when I remembered the woman even the mayor bowed to when she walked into a room. Without thinking, I dialed the long-forgotten number. "Commander Jennings, you once said you owed my mother a debt of gratitude. Now… I want you to marry me."

During a maritime rescue, my in-laws were trapped aboard a sinking vessel. I personally led my husband, Adrian Cole, captain of the rescue team, straight to their location. They were seconds away from launching the operation when Vanessa Tate looped an arm around his neck and said with a smile, “I heard there are two very important people on that ship. If I’m the one who brings them out, I could earn a second-class medal.” She leaned closer, half teasing, half coaxing. “Help me out this one time. Do that, and I’ll call you Daddy for the rest of my life.” Adrian raised a brow and let out a laugh. “You’d better mean it. Because I’m taking you up on that.” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he ordered the rescue boat to turn around. I froze, then shouted after him, “Adrian, Mom and Dad are still trapped in there. Are you seriously leaving them to die?” He shoved me aside, his expression turning cold with impatience. “Claire, think about what matters most. Your parents can swim and hold on a little longer until another team gets there. But if Vanessa misses this chance, she may never get another shot at that medal.” My blood ran cold. Yes, my parents could swim. But the people trapped inside that vessel were not my parents. They were his. And they were the two “important people” Vanessa had been talking about all along.

Dr. Emma Rockford, recently widowed, isn't interested in finding another after the love of her life and high-school sweetheart died of an unfortunate heart attack. She accepts a job with the United States military to study the anomalies of a certain blood type that's very rare called Golden Blood. Emma gets entangled in a deep secretive government program that wants what she can give them and must rely on her very survival before concerning herself with a potential soulmate. She uncovers the very reason why thousands of people go missing. Not only in the United States but throughout the entire world. She's determined to stop the corruption with the help of her odd allies and perhaps fill the void in her heart along the way.

My mother-in-law, Maryam Smith, had a heart attack and was in a critical condition. However, my wife, Lily Smith, took the only available heart for her intern’s mother. Jared Anderson’s mother did not have a serious heart condition. She did not need a heart transplant at all. In the end, Maryam died on the operating table because she did not receive a heart transplant in time. “I already tried my best to find another donated heart for your mother. It’s too bad that she was unlucky. She couldn’t even manage to make it through that short while. “Even though she’s dead, Jared was still kind enough to offer to retrieve all her organs to be donated. That way, she can still contribute something good to the world.” I was shocked by her shameless speech. However, she was not aware that my mother was not the person she harmed with her abuse of power. The person she hurt was her mother!