A murder case, two killers!
A murder case, two killers!
An 20-year-old girl was deceived by her 48-year-old teacher, and in a fit of anger, accidentally killed him. Her father voluntarily admitted to manslaughter and went to prison for her.
The winter sun, though dazzling and bright, lacked the warmth it should have had under the assault of the cold wind. I breathed into my hands, trying to warm them as I carried my cello. It was so cold. This winter was freezing, and it felt like my breath turned to ice as soon as I exhaled.
I stood before a villa with an old-fashioned design, rubbing my hands together before pressing the doorbell. I could faintly hear hurried footsteps approaching from inside. The door creaked open, and a tall man stepped into view.
Despite his black hair, his face showed signs of age, with crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, a testament to his age. This man was over forty.
"Elliana Ford, right? Come in quickly, it's cold outside, isn't it?" The man naturally took my cello and naturally handed me a can of warm milk. At that moment, my hands felt instantly warmed.
This man was Greyson Gill, the cello teacher my father had found for me. His reputation was well-known, and many students sought his mentorship.
I was no exception; I had waited a full week for this lesson, and each session cost 2000 dollars. As I entered from the doorway, I hesitated slightly, but as soon as I stepped inside, a wave of warm air hit me, leaving me momentarily dizzy.
Greyson placed the cello on the storage rack behind him and bent down to offer me a pair of pink plush slippers, saying, "Put these on, they're new. I got them just for you since I heard you were coming."
To be honest, I felt a bit awkward at that moment. After all, I was just over twenty, and no man had ever been so considerate to me, especially not someone as famous as Greyson. When he bent down and smiled, he seemed as kind as a father, without a trace of the arrogance one might expect from an artist.
Suddenly, I felt my cheeks warm up! The slippers were indeed cozy!
The cello lesson was very relaxed, completely different from what I was used to. Greyson had a humorous way of speaking, with a mischievousness that belied his age. He was a man with a great sense of humor. Especially when he played the cello, he bathed in the morning sun, and gave off a soft, golden glow. For a fleeting moment, he seemed almost divine. This was the essence of what an artist should be.
After that, I often went to him for lessons, harboring a vague and indescribable feeling towards him, like respect, admiration, or perhaps even affection.
To be honest, Greyson showed me more care than a music teacher should. He would guide my hands on how to hold the bow correctly and whisper in my ear about how nice my hair smelled that day. Every time this happened, my cheeks would flush, and I knew I was blushing furiously.
Every time I went to him for lessons, a can of warm milk was always prepared in advance. He would sit on the living room sofa, sipping a bitter cup of coffee, and look at me with a fond smile, saying, "You young ladies love these sweet things."
Every time, I would stare blankly at him, with a faint feeling in my heart that something inside me was slowly crumbling.
I didn't know when it started, but I began paying attention to my appearance when visiting him, subconsciously choosing the white dress he liked, washing my hair with the shampoo he once said smelled good, and even practicing my smile in front of the mirror to see how I could look better.
Before meeting Greyson, I felt like a moth drawn to a distant flame in the dark, desperately trying to show my beauty, only to fall into the abyss for lack of light. After meeting Greyson, I felt like I saw a glimmer of light in the distance, with a sacred glow guiding me forward.
I seemed to have fallen in love. That day, I slowly walked to Greyson's door with my cello, as our lessons were about to end. It was the last day of my lessons.
After the lesson, Greyson carefully wiped the dirt off my cello. As I watched him gently and meticulously clean it, my eyes suddenly became warm with tears, and in a moment of impulse, I threw myself into Greyson's arms.
His body tensed for a second, then he hugged me more passionately. He kissed me, holding me tightly, expressing his reluctance to let go through his actions.
Indeed, he loved me just as I loved him!
Kristine planned to surprise her husband with a helicopter for their fifth anniversary, then learned the marriage had been a setup from day one. The man she called a husband never loved her-it was all one hell of a lie. She dropped the act, shed a lot of weight, and rebuilt herself, ready to make every bastard eat their words. After an impulsive remarriage, she accidentally exposed who she really was: a star designer and heir to a billion-dollar empire. And the bodyguard she'd hired was him all along! Who would've known, the "college student" she married turned out to be a feared underworld kingpin.
In the eighteen years of her life, Brianna had endured relentless abuse from her family, living in constant fear. One fateful day, two dignified figures approached her and revealed a shocking truth: she was their long-lost daughter, heiress to the wealthiest family in the city-the Owens. Desperate for love and acceptance, Brianna hoped to escape her past. Instead, she fell victim to Cassie, a cunning impostor who manipulated their parents against her while feigning distress. Rather than forging a connection with her real family, Brianna found herself betrayed and isolated. When a car accident left Brianna in a vegetative state, she found herself able to listen to everything around her, though unable to respond. Bitterly, she realized her parents didn't care for her; they visited just once. A month later, Cassie visited, disconnecting the ventilator before leaning in to whisper coldly, "Goodbye, my dear sister. You shouldn't have come back. You are meant for that despicable, wretched family." Somehow, fate granted Brianna a second chance. Reborn and fueled by rage, she vowed to make everyone who had wronged her pay dearly. This time, she would seize the life that had been stolen from her.
To marry his first love, Deanna's husband of three years faked his death. Hiding behind his twin brother's identity, he and his family ran a cruel con. Her sobbing didn't move him. To impress that woman, he even had Deanna punished. As agony lit every nerve, she chose to walk away. With a sharp flick, she sent the ring into his face and wed a comatose tycoon, brushing off her ex's belated begging. A bleak future seemed certain-until the "coma" turned out to be an act. Under cover of night, her new husband pinned her down and murmured against her ear, "Baby, why don't we go another round?"
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.
In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?
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