shokugeki no souma

"Emory, let me introduce you. He is the one who would be your mate in the future. He would be your true mate." Lately, Emory Abernathy had been feeling a sense of strangeness. She often heard strange whispers and recalled strange memories. Worse, her perception of her surroundings had begun to change. Emory knew that Myles Abernathy—her mate—was on good terms with everyone. Myles was very kind and affectionate. As a result, it had become common for her to see Myles hugging and kissing women around the palace, including sleeping with them. Strangely, Emory now found Myles' habits repulsive. Her chest tightened. There was a feeling she could not put into words. She felt suffocated, her heart was beating incredibly fast, and it all escalated because of one night. Jaxon Rolf Forsythe had always been Emory's natural enemy. Their families, or rather their packs, had been feuding for decades, resulting in a rivalry that kept escalating. Strangely, the tension had sublimated into a suffocating thrill that felt profoundly calming. Emory's body and soul were drawn to Jaxon in a way she could not explain, as if they were bound together by an invisible force. Her heart felt called, but her mind continued to rebel. Inner conflict followed. Emory should have loved Myles and hated Jaxon, but what happened now was the opposite. She was confused and then another voice echoed in her mind. "Don't trust anyone."

The last time I argued with my husband, he slammed the door on me and left. I was so upset that I died from a heart attack. Meanwhile, he took his lover and her son traveling to take his mind off things. The entire time, our daughter, who was just a child, was abandoned at home for seven days with my corpse. At last, when Eliott remembered me and my daughter, he returned home to see my corpse. Having fallen sick, my daughter was all skin and bones. When Eliott realized his mistake, he hugged our daughter tightly and broke down crying in front of my grave. My daughter pulled away from him and hid behind my gravestone. She hissed sharply at him, “Who do you think you are? Don't disturb Mommy’s rest!”

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”

I run into a group of rogues on my way home for my daughter's birthday. I call my wife for help, but she blocks my number. I'm dragged out of the car, stabbed a dozen times, and thrown into the bushes to die. My neck is broken, and my organs are spilling out of my body. The rogues think I'm going to die—they even mention each other's names before me. Then, they drive off in my car while whistling happily. I hold onto my head and organs as I crawl to the roadside, hoping against hope that someone will save me. Before I'm taken to the hospital, I see my wife's social media update—she and her secretary have taken a sweet photo together while celebrating our daughter's birthday. The first thing I do after being discharged is demand a divorce.

By the second year of my marriage to Quentin Lambert, we had a son. Fast forward five years, and I was basically a human cookbook, agonizing over every pinch of salt like it was rocket science. One night, Quentin tossed out, "Too much salt." And our son? He didn't even blink—he dumped the whole pot down the drain right in front of me. That's when it hit me—pure exhaustion, like a tidal wave. I told Quentin I wanted a divorce. He didn't even bother looking up. "Is that really necessary?" I nodded, my voice flat. "It is."

"This is the body donation agreement, Mr. Lewis. Please sign here." Joel Lewis looks at the paper before him. His hand trembles as he grips a pen. The other party can sense his hesitance. They say considerately, "Body donation is a big thing, and it's normal for people to change their minds at the last minute. You can go home and discuss this with your family—" "I've already signed it." Joel smiles bitterly. "Family" is a term that's beyond him. There's no longer any space in his wife's heart for him, after all.

"Your Highness." "Lady Eiren." Di bawah langit malam yang kelam, tanpa sedikit pun memunculkan cahayanya sang bintang apalagi cahaya sang rembulan. Di tengah-tengah taman yang banyak ditanami bunga eglantine yang merumpun, … juga di antara hujan taburan kelopak bunga pohon plum yang jatuh meluruh. Beserta di sekitar beterbangannya bola-bola cahaya api, dilengkapi dengan kepakkan sayap kecil ratusan kupu-kupu merah muda. Mereka berdua, sepasang anak muda berlawanan jenis, yang masing-masing darinya sedang mencium harumnya setangkai bunga keramat pun, … saling berhadapan satu sama lain, dengan ekspresi muka yang tampak begitu serius. "Daripada Tunangan saya, …." "Daripada Tunanganku, …." Berbicara bersamaan sekaligus bergerak secara bersamaan pula, mereka … lekas melanjutkan ucapan yang sempat terjeda dengan menggunakan suara yang lantang, seraya mengasongkan tangkai bunga yang tengah dipegang sendiri untuk cepat-cepat diberikan kepada sang lawan bicara. "… Saya akan memilih Anda!" Sang pemberi bunga yang melambangkan cinta mati, yaitu bunga mawar hitam, … Lady dari kediaman Marquess Eiren, Darissa. "… Aku akan memilihmu!" Juga sang pemberi bunga yang melambangkan banyak kebebasan, yaitu bunga bakung laba-laba merah, … pangeran kedua kerajaan Aethelred, Lancient. "MARI/AYO KITA MENIKAH!" Sudah memutuskan untuk bekerja sama di kesempatan kedua ini, … dalam membalaskan dendam mereka.

The owner of a small company gives me an expensive bag as a gift because I want to invest in his company, yet his wife mistakes me for a homewrecker. She and her entourage crash my engagement party and trash the place. "All homewreckers need to go to hell!" "Shameless women will always be shameless. Strip her so everyone online can see what she looks like!" "Share the livestream and like it, everyone! We'll disfigure her once we hit 500 thousand likes!" Not only does my fiancé refuse to help, but he even announces that the engagement is off. "A homewrecker doesn't deserve to marry me!" I repeatedly warn them not to act rashly, but they ignore me. So, I give them each a swift punch to the gut before stepping on the perpetrator's face. Then, I call my secretary. "Tell Mr. Lane that I'm pulling out of the investment. Also, call the police and my lawyer. I've been robbed and insulted in public—I want the culprits to go to jail for this!" My fiancé regrets everything and asks me for a reconciliation, but I kick him aside. "Get lost! I'm not dumpster!"

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]

I was once a woman of prestige in one of the most powerful and wealthy families. But here I am now, sitting on the cold, damp floor of this filthy prison cell, stripped of everything I once was. My body was cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your soul, that numbs your mind as it eats away at the last remnants of hope. The damp stone walls of the prison cell echoed with the sound of dripping water, each drop marking another second of agonizing pain. My wrists and ankles were raw from the tight restraints, my skin marred by countless bruises and cuts. I had no idea how long I’d been here. Days? Weeks? Time had lost all meaning in this endless nightmare. All because I married the wrong man.