casandra salazar

Sam walked slowly into the delivery room. He saw Ryu who was still lying with the baby wrapped in a cloth in his arms. The woman's lips smiled broadly, she was happy to be a mother. Although the face looks tired with sweat still dripping. "This is my son?" said Sam without looking at the baby in Ryu's arms. "Yes Sam. This is our son" "Hello my hero" Sam greeted gently. "She's Sam's girl!" Ryu laughed. "Hi daughter, it's daddy" Sam touched his reddened cheek. Followed by a warm kiss on the forehead of his wife. "Thank you dear, you have fought for our baby" There are no words he can buy anymore, Sam has become a father now and Ryu has become a mother. Their life, for many years, finally, the complement of the family has come. The delivery went smoothly, Ryu and the baby were healthy. They were transferred to the best treatment room in the hospital. Sam and Ryu are famous people from the city of Y. Their experience as a child is a lesson, Sam had a terrible childhood even though he still lived with his parents. And Ryu, his childhood was happy, but only 12 years after that... He lived life with his adoptive family and had bad experiences and even abuse. From the experiences of these two, Sam and Ryu made a heartfelt promise. They vowed to provide love and protection for their only daughter. "Sam. Have you found a name for your daughter yet?" asked grandfather who refused to turn away from his grandson. Sam fell silent, revealing his little daughter with red lips and flushed cheeks. "She will be a princess in this city, she has courage, courage and toughness. I will name her... Casandra"

To the girlies who crave devotion that borders on obsession. And the men who know loyalty is a choice —one you make everyday, even if it costs blood. Isabella's twenty-fifth birthday ended in scandal and humiliating headlines she never saw coming. The last person she expected to step in? Her best friend’s older brother: Emilio Salazar—mafia Don, corporate king, the man she was never supposed to touch. To contain the damage, they strike a deal: a fake relationship to silence the press and protect her name. It was supposed to be simple, mutually beneficial… and temporary. Except Emilio doesn’t pretend. He watches like he owns her. Touches like he’s been waiting. And somewhere between the lies and the cameras… she realizes the truth: he’s wanted her for years. And now that he has her? He’s not letting go. She should run—from him, from this, from the darkness wrapped in tailored suits and quiet threats. But every glance drags her deeper. Every touch blurs the boundaries between them. And every second at his side feels like stepping closer to something she won’t survive. Because with Emilio, nothing is just a game. Not the lies. Not the danger. And definitely not her. EXCEPT, there is more at stake than just her reputation; her heart, her friendship… everything. How long before she stops running? How long before fake becomes real? And will she survive what comes next? With every glance, every turn, every little change… nothing will ever be the same.

Croyez-vous en la psychologie ? À la noirceur de l’âme humaine ? Et à tout ce qui peut arriver de mystique, de terrifiant et d'inexplicable ? ​Peu importe vos croyances, préparez-vous à plonger dans un thriller psychologique où vous allez en voir de toutes les couleurs ​Une seule règle avant d'ouvrir ce livre : acceptez de vous perdre. Dans ce labyrinthe mental, les pistes se brouillent, la paranoïa s'installe et les certitudes volent en éclats. Mais ne lâchez rien. Pour comprendre l'impensable, pour saisir les liaisons invisibles qui relient les personnages et les événements, il vous faudra dévorer chaque page, jusqu'à la dernière ligne. ​Ne fermez pas les yeux. Suivez le fil de cette enquête aux frontières de la raison, et découvrez la vérité

Londres, 16 de agosto de 1819 Blackthorn Manor no es una casa. Es un vientre abierto que respira el hedor de los no nacidos. La niebla no llega; llora sangre. Se arrastra por Mayfair como la mortaja de los dieciocho que cayeron ayer en Manchester, sus gritos aún atrapados en el humo de la pólvora. Las gárgolas de la mansión no escupen agua; vomitan bilis negra, un líquido que quema la hiedra y deja marcas como estigmas en la piedra. Dentro, el aire es tan denso que corta la garganta: hierro oxidado, cera de vela derretida sobre carne, y algo más —el olor dulzón de un omega desangrándose despacio. Cassandra Vale cruza el umbral con un contrato temblando en sus dedos y un aroma que no pidió. Omega. No nació así. A los diecisiete, en el sótano de San Judas, la fiebre la tomó como un demonio que se arrastra por la columna. Le quemó la neutralidad beta hasta los huesos, le dejó un olor que hace que los alfas lloren de hambre: lirios aplastados bajo botas, miel mezclada con lágrimas, la promesa de una sumisión que la mata por dentro. Ahora, diecinueve años. Institutriz. Un salario que parece redención. Una puerta que se cierra con un clic que suena a crucifixión. Eliza Blackthorn, diez años, alfa de sangre pura, no juega con muñecas. Juega con huesos. Los encuentra en el jardín de invierno, entre rosas que crecen tan rojas que parecen úteros abiertos. Algunos son de conejo. Otros… de dedos infantiles. Los limpia con su falda de muselina, los besa como si fueran hostias, y los guarda en una caja de música que ya no canta —solo gime, un lamento que suena a niño ahogado. "Son mis ángeles caídos", susurra, y sus ojos grises brillan con una ternura que corta como vidrio. Edmund Blackthorn, dieciséis años, alfa puro. No es un niño. Es un cuchillo vivo. Alto, delgado, con piel tan pálida que las venas azules parecen ríos de veneno bajo cristal. Sus ojos no parpadean. No pueden. La segunda vez que la ve, está en el comedor. La mesa está puesta para veinte —plata manchada de óxido, copas con bordes astillados, un centro de lirios muertos que gotean savia roja como sangre menstrual. Solo hay dos platos. Uno para él. El otro para ella. —Siéntate —ordena. Su voz es un salmo al revés. Cassandra obedece. El asiento está húmedo. Sangre vieja. Edmund no come. Reza. Corta la carne con un cuchillo de plata que lleva grabada una cruz invertida. La sangre se acumula en el plato como un lago de hostias profanadas. —¿Sabes qué pasa con los omegas que entran aquí? —pregunta. Su voz es suave. Demasiado suave. Como el susurro de un sacerdote antes de la quema. Cassandra no responde. —Se convierten. —Sonríe. Una sonrisa que parte el alma—. En ella. Ella. Casandra. La primera. En 1719, llegó con un contrato idéntico. La encontraron en el ático tres semanas después: desollada viva, la piel colgada como un vestido de novia en el armario, los ojos cosidos con hilo negro, la boca llena de plumas de cuervo. Su nombre —Casandra— fue tallado en las vigas con uñas rotas. Su grito aún resuena cuando la luna está llena, un lamento que suena a parto fallido. Los Blackthorn lo llaman la maldición. Los sirvientes lo llaman el hambre. Los cuervos lo llaman cena. Esa noche, la biblioteca. No hay libros. Solo estanterías vacías que parecen costillas de un Cristo olvidado. El aire huele a carne quemada en incienso. Edmund la empuja contra la pared. No hay preliminares. No hay palabras dulces. Solo sacrificio.

Going to rewrite it with the same plot as harry dark lord's son but with a different concept . warning - the light side bashing , dumbeldor bashing , Ron and Hermione bashing , Molly weasely and Aurther weasely bashing

Para ellos, saltar a la fama ha sido su más grande sueño y están viviendo la vida, llenos de lujos, amor de sus fans y poder. Pero no han conquistado todo aún, el choque de realidad de dos estilos diferentes de vida, harán que se replanteen sus decisiones, el poder que creen tener y lo que desean. Una pequeña historia, de pasión, odio, secretos y drama. JK, Veer, Min, Gust, Jang, Mister y Hi, conocerán las mentiras, el engaño, la manipulación y el deseo.

Sophie Wexler transmigrated into a novel about The Galaxy, becoming the vicious, F-rank Healer-class cannon fodder. The original owner constantly caused trouble and made things difficult for the female lead, earning her the hatred of the entire internet. Upon transmigrating and seeing that everything had been ruined by the original owner, Sophie's only thought was: "What kind of nightmare start is this?!" To escape the original owner's fate, Sophie Wexler worked diligently, conducted herself conscientiously, stayed away from the male and female leads, compensated the soldiers harmed by the original owner, and strove to be a model citizen of The Galaxy, absolutely refusing to be the cannon fodder 'offed' by the Imperial Marshal! Broke and powerless, Sophie also had to support a man who'd been innocently dragged into the original owner's mess. She had no choice but to hustle. She started live streaming, became a masked singer, and held concerts. At first, netizens were scornful: 【Tsk, how good can she possibly sound?】 Later, the netizens were forced to eat their words. 【Damn, that's so good I'm on my knees!】 【What the hell, the violent episode of my Disorder Period has actually been soothed?!】 【The toxins in my Spiritual Sea have actually been eliminated!】 Her live streams went viral, the masked singer became a huge sensation, and tickets for her concerts were snapped up across The Galaxy. Sophie was content, thinking, "This time, I must have finally escaped the original owner's fate, right?" But what do you know, the man I've been doting on and supporting is actually the Imperial Marshal?! --- One day, Yancey Forrest came home to find that the boisterous person who was always claiming to be good to him was gone. His eyes darkened. Provoke me and then think you can leave? After catching her, Yancey traced his fingertips along Sophie's neck, smiling gently. "Why run?" Sophie trembled. "You... you're the Imperial Marshal?" His identity exposed, Yancey Forrest took her hand and slowly placed it on his own neck ring. "You know I won't kill you, don't you?"

In her past life, Su Yaoguang bought Xiao Yanci, supported his education, and helped him rise to great heights. She became his wife. Everyone praised him for never abandoning the farm girl who funded his rise. Su Yaoguang also believed she had found a good man. Unexpectedly, when she was seriously ill, she saw Xiao Yanci bring his first love and a child who resembled them both to her bedside. "Dad, mom, when will this person die?" the child asked, holding Xiao Yanci's hand. Xiao Yanci responded, "Soon, just wait a bit longer." That was the moment she realized: she had wasted her entire life on the wrong man. Returning to the age of fifteen, Su Yaoguang pointed at the bloody young boy: "I want him." In her past life, no matter what she gave Xiao Yanci, she only received a cold expression. This time, the young boy, like a wolf cub, dropped his guard; everything Sister gifted was the best. Sweet as milk. Devoted beyond reason. He melted her completely. Until one day, the young boy took a high position. Not wanting history to repeat itself, Su Yaoguang packed her things and slipped away at night, only to run into a man as noble and unattainable as a deity. "I've heard you call us siblings everywhere. Good sister, shouldn't we change what we call each other?"

Amelia Lockhart has one mission: make the top idol Ethan Quinn fall in love with her, then break his heart, so that Ethan Quinn can successfully pass his tribulation and return to his position as a High God. There's just one problem: as the most hated woman on the internet, Amelia is the last person anyone would pair with the nation's golden boy. But when she lands a spot on a dating show alongside Ethan, she sees her chance. She does all the heavy lifting and is dependable enough to make him see her differently. As a result, Ethan starts pretending to be weak. The fans are confused. Their untouchable idol is... blushing? Getting clingy? Calling her "jiejie" in that voice? "Sis, I surrender." "Sis, you can only spoil me like this." Amelia is losing control of the plan. She was supposed to seduce him and walk away. So why is he the one coaxing her to stay, and why is it getting harder to say no?

A mission gone wrong sends military doctor Han Lei tumbling through time, straight into the arms of a fallen Prince in a war-torn era. With a bizarre excuse to keep a doctor by his side, the battle-scarred general finds himself completely undone by her soft words and gentle hands. Han Lei's wish is to earn silver and marry a strong man. The Prince’s wish is to seek development and marry a gentle wife. Two people, four desires, who will bend first? --- She's a dignified modern woman who crossed through time. How could she stand by and let these ancient fools bully her husband? He's a national hero, yet nearly got himself killed over that damn loyalty of his. She asks him: "What are you thinking?" He answers: "My heart is dead, you know what I am thinking." She curls her lips, turns to leave a sentence: "Then what are you waiting for? Go do him now!"