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Picture two people at a beautiful, rustic hotel overlooking the sea. They're the epitome of a happily married couple on their honeymoon, until something happens that shakes their happy farcade -- a diary, to be exact! Eyare finds out he's a means to save face, a plan B and a second option through the damning words his recently aquired wife wrote down in her diary. Now he's at a loss as to what to do. It seems his life is a magnet for bad things, as one negative thing comes fast on the heels of the other. There's a conspiracy to wrench his birth right of the kingship, right from under his nose and from an unusual suspect too, lending credence to the saying ---- The people closest to you are the one's that can hurt you the most. The walls seem to be closing in on him. Will he be able to keep them at bay? Follow Eyare in this gripping tale on his race against time. Find out whose life is up for keeps and whose is going to be lost.
"You're going to have to brace yourself, madam -- your husband's a schizophrenic."
"Schizo - what?" She tasted it on her lips. It was very foreign to her. She sat up straighter, scared to hear what he was going to say.
Beads of sweat popped up on her forehead and she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the wooden frame of the chair she was sitting on.
She focused on the the hum of the air conditioner, capturing and enhancing it till it became a recurrent loop in her mind.
"A schizophrenic is someone
who can take up different personalities and looses touch with his environment, communicating with only people he can see. That's the layman's term." There was a pause, in which he looked at her directly and then continued speaking. "The scientific term is a bit more technical. It is one of several brain diseases whose symptoms may include loss of personality, agitation, catatonia, confusion, psychosis, unusual behavior, and social withdrawal. When you brought him in earlier, I was able to diagnose same symptoms I mentioned."
"Oh my God, this is terrible!" There were unshed tears in her eyes. Agitation was clear in her voice and she began wringing her fingers together. "Doctor, will he be okay? I mean, is there a cure and is he dangerous?"
"Not really, I mean most schizophrenics can be curtailed with drugs and become harmless with constant care." He looked at her, compassion lacing his eyes.
"That's fine then so ---"
"I'm afraid it's not. You see when you brought him in yesterday, he kept murmuring unintelligible words, but I was able to make out one word." This was the part he hated -- being the bearer of bad news.
He shook his left leg nervously, wondering how she was going to take it.
Osagiede waited with bated breath as the doctor leaned forward, hands laced together on his desk. "He mentioned the word -- kill."
"What's all this hogwash about killing, doctor?" Huge furrows appeared on her forehead and her voice rose in panic as her heart beat accelerated.
"I'm sorry, but your husband probably fancies himself as an executioner!"
"A what?" Her voice squeaked with fear.
"An executioner is ---"
"I know who an executioner is doctor, but my husband has never been violent, why, I'm even the one who kills the chicken during festive periods."
"Madam, this is not the time for jokes. Your husband needs serious medical attention and immediately too."
"Doctor, is he, can he . . . What I mean to ask is, can he be cured?"
"In most cases, no, we will do our best and leave the rest to God, but the earlier you bring him in, the faster his healing will take place." He interlaced his fingers for emphasis, leaning towards her.
He felt sorry for the woman whose husband was in the early stages of the mental disease. What could he say to comfort her? He only wished she could act fast and bring him in to start the treatment as delay was very dangerous.
Osagiede staggered up from the high backed chair and with some effort, lifted her stricken face to the doctor.
"I'm not ready for stark white walls, constricting spaces, the smell of sickness and death, neither am I ready for life being turned upside down. No doctor, I'm not bringing him in. . . yet."
The doctor was aghast with shock, his mouth fell open and he said with a shake of his head "This portends danger madam, how --- "
"I'm finished here and don't expect me back in a hurry."
With those words, she got up and rushed to open the door of his office and closed it quickly behind her, just incase she changed her mind.
Sagging against the door, a sob caught in her throat. No! She told herself, I can't give up easily, I have to be strong for him.
With that last thought, she walked briskly down the hospital corridor, later breaking into a run.
On the drive back home, she recalled the doctor's words.
Your husband fancies himself an executioner.
She had to get home soon, for earlier on, she had left Eyare murmuring to himself. Only God knew what he could do as she had left Eseosa with him.
With that last thought, she increased her speed, a niggling fear at the back of her mind.
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The night I discovered my husband's whore was carrying his heir, I smiled for the cameras-and plotted his ruin. Scarlett was born a queen-heir to a powerful legacy, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack by blood and by sacrifice. She gave everything to Alexander: her love, her loyalty, her life. In return, he paraded his mistress before their pack... and dared to call it duty. But Scarlett won't be another broken woman weeping in the shadows. She'll wear her crown of thorns with pride, tear down every lie built around her, and when she strikes, it will be glorious. The Alpha forgot that the woman he betrayed is far more dangerous than the girl who once loved him.
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For three years, Cathryn and her husband Liam lived in a sexless marriage. She believed Liam buried himself in work for their future. But on the day her mother died, she learned the truth: he had been cheating with her stepsister since their wedding night. She dropped every hope and filed for divorce. Sneers followed-she'd crawl back, they said. Instead, they saw Liam on his knees in the rain. When a reporter asked about a reunion, she shrugged. "He has no self-respect, just clings to people who don't love him." A powerful tycoon wrapped an arm around her. "Anyone coveting my wife answers to me."
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The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.
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For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist. The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran’s "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite." When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome. I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out. But Kieran forgot one thing: my father’s multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city’s most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy. I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins—the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street—and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake.
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Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.
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Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.
DREAM WAKE
E.V Ometan
Romance
Chapter 1 PROLOGUE
05/04/2022
Chapter 2 IN THE BEGINNING
05/04/2022
Chapter 3 RESURRECTION
05/04/2022
Chapter 4 PLANNING TIME
05/04/2022
Chapter 5 DESTINY WAITS -I
05/04/2022
Chapter 6 DESTINY WAITS - II
05/04/2022
Chapter 7 AND SO IT BEGINS
05/04/2022
Chapter 8 YOU, BABY AND I
05/04/2022
Chapter 9 TROUBLE IN PARADISE
05/04/2022
Chapter 10 ON THE CUSP OF DARKNESS
05/04/2022
Chapter 11 SUNNY DAYS AHEAD
30/04/2022
Chapter 12 TROUBLE REARS ITS UGLY HEAD
30/04/2022
Chapter 13 TOUGH DECISIONS
30/04/2022
Chapter 14 TREACHERY
30/04/2022
Chapter 15 THE SECRET MISSION
30/04/2022
Chapter 16 FRIEND . . . OR FOE
30/04/2022
Chapter 17 THE SECRET MISSION - II
30/04/2022
Chapter 18 THE PLAN
30/04/2022
Chapter 19 THE AFTERMATH
30/04/2022
Chapter 20 FRIEND OR FOE - II
30/04/2022
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