marina suriel

Safiya was abused so much during high school that she lost her best friend so she sought revenge amidst many troubled feelings and after becoming a famous writer dominated by the past, she slipped down a scary path that she could no longer return exhausted.

Laroussa, who has learned to love day after day, is torn between her lover on one side and her father on the other, after revenge is kindled between them, she eventually has to choose to be with her lover, stand up against her father, or become her father's daughter and forget who she is. Writing about love and war, troubled feelings, are those we think we love the real love of our life, or are we just a big trick in our feelings?

Christine, an independent woman, was wounded by her mother as a child because she did not accept the truth of her daughter, but she is not the only betrayal in her life.

My daughter Lily hadn't seen her father in five years, so her joyful cry of "Daddy!" echoed through the sterile mansion as she ran to him. But his eyes were not for her. Jessica Hayes, his "one true love," stood beside him, her feigned trip and cry sending him into a panic. He scooped her up, his face contorted with concern, then shot a venomous look at our innocent five-year-old. "Lock her in the master bedroom closet. Three days. No food." My blood ran cold. "Ryan, no! Please, you can't!" "She has asthma, Ryan. She'll suffocate!" He scoffed, accusing me of lies and manipulative ploys. The guards, impervious to my pleas, ripped Lily from my arms. "Mommy! Mommy, I'm sorry!" she shrieked, carried away. That night, her terrified cries faded to desperate whimpers. "Please, Mommy... can't... breathe..." I pounded on the door until my fists were raw, screaming for them to let her out. The whimpers stopped. The closet door opened. Lily lay there, blue, not moving, not breathing. Unconscious from lack of oxygen. The ambulance siren wailed as I sank to the waiting room floor. My phone buzzed. It was Instagram. Jessica Hayes, pouting in a hospital bed with a tiny scratch. Her caption: "Mr. Peterson is so generous! I only scraped my knee and he gave me two luxury apartments as compensation. I guess I'll forgive you now~" Geotagged from a luxury hospital across town. Where our daughter wasn't. He gifted her apartments for a scraped knee, while our child suffocated. A cold numbness spread through me. "Grandma," I whispered, bowing my head to Mrs. Peterson. "Love cannot be forced. Please... let him be with Jessica. I just want to take Lily and leave." My fresh wounds throbbed, tears mixing with blood. I showed her the post, the address of our marital home given away. Mrs. Peterson's face blazed with fury. "That scoundrel! That worthless boy!" "Call that bastard and tell him to get his ass to this hospital immediately!" But it was too late. If Grandma's scolding worked, Lily would never have been locked in that closet.

Ava Miller, co-founder of AuraSynch and devoted partner to Ethan Reed, believed she had it all. Her decade building their tech empire seemed a testament to enduring love. Then, a latte from Ethan clouded her mind, initiating a nightmare. Trapped, Ava overheard him arranging to harvest her kidney for his ex, Chloe Vance. Frantic whispers revealed Ethan had also forced her to abort their child years ago, all for Chloe. Her world collapsed, realizing the calculated exploitation of her body and love. Ethan' s cold disregard, his abandonment for Chloe' s whims, and Chloe' s taunts highlighted Ava' s utter worthlessness. Even after Ethan intentionally sacrificed her as bait on a bridge, his monstrous cruelty remained. How could the man she loved see her as a disposable resource? The crushing realization ignited an unwavering resolve, extinguishing her foolish affection. Severing all ties, she erased him from her life, resigning and clearing their shared home. With icy determination, Ava made a single call to Ethan' s fiercest rival, launching a shocking new chapter. She emerged not as a victim, but a force ready for public revenge.

My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through. That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister. But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library. They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien. Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve. I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen. This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over. "No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."

The tiny screen showed a pulsing heartbeat, and Doctor Ramirez smiled. I was pregnant, overjoyed, ready to build our perfect family with Michael, my loving husband, and my rock-solid best friend, Chloe. It felt like a dream come true after years of trying. Then Chloe gifted me an antique locket, a seemingly thoughtful "protection charm." But soon after, my baby's heartbeat grew alarmingly erratic. The doctor warned me, while a chilling encounter with an eccentric antique dealer sparked a horrifying thought: Was the locket cursed? Could it be a "vessel of sorrow" meant to "rebalance fates"? His ominous words echoed as Chloe, who’d struggled with IVF, began showing surprising "positive signs." Desperate to protect my child, I tried to banish the locket's influence. That’s when I overheard the insidious truth: Michael’s voice, hushed, conspiring with Chloe. “The locket’s influence is definitely working,” he whispered. “Her inevitable breakdown will make things easier.” “The trust fund... it’ll all be sorted.” Betrayal ripped through me, cold and agonizing. My husband, the man I trusted with my life, and my best friend, were actively orchestrating my ruin. The “curse” wasn’t supernatural; it was a calculated scheme of psychological torture and subtle drugs. It was all designed to induce my miscarriage and drive me mad, all for my family’s trust fund. Every loving glance, every comforting word, a horrifying lie. The terror was instant, quickly followed by a searing, ice-cold fury. They thought I was collapsing, but their vile deception simply ignited a dormant strength within me. They wanted to tear down my world. I wouldn't just survive; I would meticulously expose their every deceit. I would dismantle their entire wicked plot. And I would ensure they faced justice for the monstrous theft of my peace, my future, and my baby.

Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends. She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her. " Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek. Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing. They molested and bullied her until she passed out. " Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried " Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...." " No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..." " Oh, my God...what should we do..." Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action. ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl

It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy. Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me. My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination." They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why? It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers. Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again. This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family. Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free.

During a college retreat, we hosted a storytelling competition. They just kept egging me on, completely oblivious to the terrifying disaster it would invite. I said, "The story I'm about to tell is a curse." "Everyone who has ever heard this story has died." "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me. My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone. Pain, then darkness. Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum. I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John. At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me. “Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome. “Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time. The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her. Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me. He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon. Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity. But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop. No. Not again. This time, things would be different.

My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold. Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back. My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence. My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic. His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison. She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her. A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins. Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue. I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn. I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips. Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole. But then, warmth. Sunlight. My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom. Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole. The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began. The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper. This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance. Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed. No. Not again. This time, I wouldn't just survive. I would take everything she had, everything she wanted. Her husband. Her position. Her future. My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun.

Veronika McAllister have lived a sad life and a life full of secrets. After the death of her mother during a robbery gone bad, her father blames her for her mother death and her family hates her for reasons she doesn't know. When accepted into Caston college also known as bloodyville because of the series of murders committed by the red ghoul which was later killed in 1990. Now a series of murders is done in the exact manner as the red ghoul the day Veronika stepped into Caston. Are this murders connected to Veronika or has the red ghoul awaken to finish where it left off.