When Does Eugene Die In The Walking Dead Novels & Stories

[WARNING 18+] This book contains descriptive intimate and violent scenes. There could be triggering content like self-harm, drug addiction, and depression. [TROPES] Billionaire. Revenge. Second Chance. Escape while pregnant. - When Mellow Fanning married Zeath Lupin, the cold chairman of Lupin Group, she thought their love was forever. But everything crumbled when he introduced his pregnant mistress at a family dinner. Angry, Mellow sought to make Zeath restless by kidnapping the mistress. However, that resulted in a tragedy that nearly claimed her life and that of the child growing inside her—a child Zeath didn’t deserve. She faked her death and ran away, bound to return as Zeath’s only means to remain as the chairman of Lupin Group. Would he recognize her? Would she accept his apology if he ever gave one? And what would happen when the threat she once fled from rekindled, endangering her and her child’s lives once more? >>>>> “Do you know how much I wished you wouldn’t come near me, or even... touch me?” Zeath drones on. “All those cuddles and kisses, all the affection, made my skin crawl—like a troll embracing its victim before gobbling them. One can only imagine how much it stinks. You are no different from that troll. You merely caught my attention because you were a self-absorbed twonk, and we needed to test if you even had the heart to love another.” “We?” I croak out. Then Zeath’s fingers trail gently along my face, his eyes glinting with pure poison, and his voice is no better. “Poor Mellow, it is all a dare, a gratifying one. Divorce or not, it’s your choice.”

The human traffickers were apprehended, and after DNA verification, the police returned me to my affluent parents. My parents gave a cold nod, thanked the officers, and instructed the butler to make me comfortable. Two months after returning home, the fake heiress, Irene Burrel, secretly signed me up for a wilderness survival course. My parents gently stroked her head. “Since you want to play, let her accompany you.” They did not care one bit if I died out there. Irene smirked triumphantly at me. “What does it matter if you’re the real heiress? I can still do whatever I want with you! “Survival training is my daily routine. I’ll make sure you leave that competition on a stretcher!” When we arrived at the wilderness training grounds in the mountains, I laughed. I grew up in these very forests. Did she think I did not know this place?

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.

All of Italy knew Kayson Moretti was obsessed with me. He was the untouchable Don of the Moretti family, a man who never lost control in public, yet he broke every rule for me. He declared his love at a gathering of the most powerful mafia families in the country, then bought an entire private island just to build me a glass-domed garden when he proposed. For years, he laid the world at my feet—power, jewels, territory, status. If I wanted something, Kayson didn’t promise it. He made it mine. That was why everyone believed I was the luckiest woman in Italy. They were wrong. Because the same man who swore he would die for me was sleeping with his private secretary behind my back. Worse, he got her pregnant. The day she sent me her ultrasound, their bed photos, and every intimate secret she thought would destroy me, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I erased every trace I had ever left in his world. My name. My accounts. My records. My past. I staged my death. I let the world believe I had died in a private jet crash.

The mafia coalition’s family banquet had reached its liveliest point. Someone started stirring things up and steered the conversation toward the youngest Don of the Fumagalli family, Dante Fumagalli. “Dante, before you came to power, all those old Dons from the major families were falling over themselves to push their daughters at you. Was there ever one you actually wanted?” I stood half a step behind him, and my knuckles turned white around my wine glass. Dante did not answer right away. His gaze swept over me, cool and indifferent, before he turned toward Viviana Lombardi, who still held the crowd’s attention. “I wanted her.” Viviana spun around so fast that wine splashed from her glass onto her wrist. “Then why did you not come when I gave you that hotel key card all those years ago?” The calm on Dante’s face finally cracked. He frowned. “Your key card? Was that not for Enzo Ricci?” “How could it have been for Enzo?” Viviana’s eyes reddened. “He is my first cousin.” One question led to another and the truth emerged. That hotel key card had been handed to the wrong person by a Soldato. Because of that mistake, they had missed each other. Viviana burst into tears on the spot. Regret shadowed Dante’s expression. Just then, someone laughed softly. “What a coincidence. Was the key card really delivered to the wrong person, or did someone make sure it ended up in the wrong hands?” In an instant, every eye in the room turned to me. Everyone remembered me. I was the woman who used to trail after Dante Fumagalli like a lovesick fool. I turned to look at Dante and hoped he would say something for me. I hoped he would tell them we had been secretly married for five years and that he had been the one who pursued me back then. He said nothing. He did not defend me. He did not deny anything. He stared ahead in silence as if none of this had anything to do with him. In that moment, I pulled off the wedding ring I had worn for five years.

She was meant to be a Luna. So swore she’d become an Alpha instead. Born into a powerful Alpha bloodline, Seraphina "Sera" Nightbane spent her life preparing to lead. But in a world where only male Alphas rule, her fate was sealed—an arranged marriage to the ruthless Alpha King. Rather than live out her life in a cage, Sera vanished on the eve of her wedding, disguising herself as a boy to enter Lupine Academy, a brutal training ground for future Alphas. She’s determined to prove herself. That’s when Ronan Volkstane enters the scene. Cold, dominant, and dangerously perceptive, Ronan is a born predator. He sees Seth Darven as a challenge, a rival… even though something about him feels off. He’s determined to uncover the truth, no matter the cost. As tensions ignite and secrets unravel, Sera must fight for her place, her freedom… against the one Alpha who might destroy everything she’s built or claim her completely.

To make up for past regrets with his first love, my husband, Pierce Ronan, lied that he could see everyone’s lifespan. He told me I had sixty years left, but his first love, Jessica Stone, had only seven days to live. So, for those seven days, he said he had to fulfill the promises of their youth. He brought her home, cared for her, and when they went back to their old college campus to relive their love, I didn’t protest. When he confessed his love to her and planned the wedding of the century, asking me to be the bridesmaid, I didn’t raise my voice. It wasn’t until he wanted to break the final taboo — in our marital bedroom — that he looked at me with guilt in his eyes and begged me to move out. The housemaids watched, snickering behind their hands, but I only smiled and nodded in agreement. I packed my bags, carried our child, and moved into the guest room next door. Seeing how obedient I remained, Pierce was touched. “I promise, this will be the last time I wrong you. Once Jessica passes, I’ll make it up to you.” What he didn’t know was that I had already seen through his lies. What he also didn’t know was that the one truly dying of cancer, the one with only seven days left to live, was me. Three days remained. Then, I would be gone.

Alice Long and I were caught in the crossfire. When my boyfriend—a combat medic responsible for saving the wounded—came to our rescue, he pushed me aside. Gently cradling Alice, the girl I had shielded, he shot me a cold glance and said, "Crystal, I'm deeply disappointed in you. She needs immediate care to avoid infection!" What about me? Was I meant to die instead? When my flag-draped coffin arrived home, he had the nerve to weep openly at my memorial. This once-renowned combat medic, celebrated around the globe, never set foot outside his room again.

On the road, I met a woman unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Her name was Janet Smith. She seemed slow and almost childlike, yet she had been wandering alone for two years without ever going home. Even with one leg crippled, she had forced herself to climb the Highveil Mountains. This time, however, she was caught in a blizzard. Injured and stranded, she could no longer make her way down. As her vision blurred and her strength slipped away, tears covered her face. She placed a pair of small handmade clay dolls in my hands. "I'm probably going to die here," she murmured. "Please give these to my adoptive brother, Chester Graham." She was clearly at death's door, yet her smile was soft and unexpectedly serene. "Tell him I've seen enough of the world. I don't love him anymore. And tell him he doesn't need to worry. I'm not so foolish now. I won't cause trouble for anyone again." Chester? At the sound of his name, I stood rooted to the spot. In Riverton City, everyone who worked at the harbor knew him, the so-called Ship King. Right before I left for the mountains, news of his engagement had been everywhere.

" No one wants to kiss chubby cheeks or sleep with a girl covered in rugs," Vince smiled as the corners of his mouth went up in a smirk. " Now get off your high horse and stop fantasizing about my perfect chest," he growled. My name is Perez, but the bullies call me Fatrez because I'm fat, not that I like being fat, their is nothing I can change about it, unless the angels decided to work out a miracle. But everything that has a beginning has an end, I could do the bullying, not that I can't. But the head of bullies is sinfully handsome, he leads as they follow. Always throwing the first comment before the rest come along. Even if he is sinfully handsome, I could never dream of me with him, the fact that am fat, call it obesity and dumb in class with extra front teeth. No one wants such a girl. Even if I was a boy I wouldn't date me. Why would he look at me twice without laughing so hard and crumbling down. The best I can do is disappear and never come back or kill myself to stop the bullies from finding other victims, they would probably die of guilt, that's my plan. But Vince is such an arrogant jerk, he could never crack, let alone feel guilty. I've got to stay alive to pay back, make his life miserable, perhaps I'll sleep at night satisfied that he is suffering because of me. But maybe the bully isn't strong like I thought, is his heart made of stone or it's all a mask to fool the world and make him feel better. His heart bleeds after all and I can injure it.