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Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
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Mi vida era una lucha constante contra el hambre.
En el instituto, mi único sustento era un humillante "pacto" con Mateo, el chico rico: comida a cambio de mis tareas.
Me sentía una mendiga, una carga.
Una devastadora Nochebuena, mi propia madre me echó de casa, dejándome a la intemperie.
Vagué sin rumbo, el frío mordiéndome, hasta que Mateo me encontró, ofreciéndome cobijo temporal en su inmensa casa.
Por un momento, creí que había encontrado paz.
Pero la cruel realidad volvió: mi padre me secuestró para casarme forzosamente con un hombre mayor y saldar una deuda.
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El Sabor del Primer Bocadillo
Mi vida era una lucha constante contra el hambre. En el instituto, mi único sustento era un humillante "pacto" con Mateo, el chico rico: comida a cambio de mis tareas. Me sentía una mendiga, una carga. Una devastadora Nochebuena, mi propia madre me echó de casa, dejándome a la intemperie. Vagué
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