savvy sheldon feels good as hell

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You can visit https://www.goodnovel.com, the GoodNovel writing platform can realize your creative dream for you, and use your words to connect readers all over the world.

You can visit https://www.goodnovel.com, the GoodNovel writing platform can realize your creative dream for you, and use your words to connect readers all over the world.

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Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]

"Choose now or they both die!!!" the kidnapper demanded. Carlos, fidgeting and confused, looked helplessly at the two women tied in front of him—his wife and her sister. "You have five seconds," the kidnapper said, growing impatient. "Your time starts now." Carlos' mind raced. "Who should I choose?" he muttered, panic-stricken as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. . "Time's up," the kidnapper said, cocking his gun. "Bid them goodbye." "Wait! I choose her!" Carlos finally shouted, pointing to his wife's sister, leaving his wife speechless and shocked. What would you do, if your husband chose your sister over you in a life-or-death situation? Meet Carla, a 27-year-old woman who never knew her father and was raised by her stepfather alongside her mother and stepsister, Catherine. Tragedy struck when their parents died in a car accident, leaving Carla to raise Catherine. She sacrificed everything, dropping out of school to support her sister’s education. But what did Carla get in return? Betrayal. Her husband and sister, cheating behind her back, and also wishing her dead. Five years after vanishing without a trace, Carla returns, transformed and determined to exact her revenge on those who hurt her. Dive into this gripping tale of betrayal, survival, and vengeance as Carla's resurrection sets the stage for a dramatic showdown.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

My boyfriend is a forensic artist. He was forced to make a harrowing decision to save his first love. At the killer's demand, he created a portrait from a photo—he never realized that the young girl in the photo was me in my childhood. Two weeks later, the police investigate a grisly bomb explosion and dismemberment case. The victim's identity was unrecognizable, and the investigation dragged on for days as the authorities desperately searched the blast site, looking for my remains. After three days and nights, they finally recovered enough of my remains to reconstruct my face. When my boyfriend unknowingly brought the shattered fragments back to life with his art, he was confronted with a horrifying truth—one that drove him to the edge of madness.