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The Bold and the Beautiful News, 98, New York, NY (2025)

10/13/2025

“Teacher, my grandpa did it again…” – The teacher calls the police immediately…
Class had ended, but Mariana did not leave.
“Teacher, my grandpa did it again,” she said, almost crying.
“And today he’s coming for me. I don’t want to go.”
Lucía felt her heart race, but she tried to remain calm.
“What did he do again, sweetheart? What does he do to you?”
Mariana bit her lip without looking at the teacher.
“When my mom is asleep, he comes into my room. He says it’s a secret, that if I tell, my mom will get mad at me.”
“I’m scared, and it hurts.”
The last words hung heavy in the air.
Lucía took a deep breath, held Mariana’s little hands, and spoke firmly.
“You’re safe with me. I won’t let him come near you.”
She discreetly pulled out her phone and quietly called the police.
She explained the situation, gave the school’s address, and asked for a patrol to be sent.
They told her to keep the girl safe and not release her to anyone until her parents or the authorities arrived.
“You’re going to stay with me, okay,” said Lucía, trying to transmit calm.
“I don’t want to go with him,” Mariana repeated, on the verge of tears.
Lucía hugged her gently and placed her behind her desk, protected.
Minutes later, a strong smell announced Rogelio’s arrival.
He walked in smiling.
“Good afternoon, teacher. I came for my granddaughter,” he said, opening his arms as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
Lucía stood up and placed herself in front of the girl.
“Today dismissal is only with parents, Mr. Rogelio.
That’s the school’s protocol.”
His smile grew tense.
“Her mom asked me to come. I always pick her up. It’s fine. Let’s go, Mariana.”
The girl clutched her notebook to her chest and shook her head.
“I don’t want to go, Grandpa. I don’t want to.”
Principal Carmen appeared in the hallway, nervous, trying to defuse the situation.
“Mr. Rogelio, can we talk for a moment in the office?” she suggested.
“Talk about what?” he replied impatiently.
“I’m taking the girl, and that’s final.” Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

Husband brings mistress home, yells at wife: 'You don't deserve to live in this villa' — a few minutes later she shows the ownership papers, leaving the whole family stunned...
Emily Turner stood in the marble-floored foyer of her California villa, her heart sinking as she watched her husband, Richard, walk in with a tall brunette woman who looked no older than twenty-five. Emily had always prided herself on keeping her home warm and welcoming, a sanctuary for their family, but at that moment the atmosphere felt like ice.
Richard didn’t bother with introductions. He flung his keys onto the side table, smirked, and looked at Emily with a mixture of disdain and arrogance.
“This is Vanessa,” he said casually, as if announcing a business partner. “She’ll be staying here for a while.”
Emily’s hands tightened around the hem of her blouse. “Here?” she repeated, trying to make sense of what she had just heard.
“Yes, here,” Richard snapped, his voice rising. “Don’t look so shocked. You’ve been nothing but a disappointment. You don’t deserve to live in this villa. At least Vanessa appreciates me.”
Vanessa’s lips curved into a smug smile, her manicured fingers brushing along the banister as if she already owned the place. Emily felt her pulse hammering in her throat. It wasn’t the betrayal alone that hurt—it was the cruelty in Richard’s voice, the deliberate attempt to humiliate her in her own home.
Their teenage son, Michael, had just come down the stairs, overhearing every word. His face twisted in confusion and anger. “Dad, what the hell is going on? You bring her here and talk to Mom like that?”
Richard turned sharply. “Watch your mouth, Michael. Don’t you dare talk back to me. This house—this life—you’ve all been enjoying it because of me. I decide what happens here.”
The tension was unbearable. Emily’s chest tightened, but she refused to let the tears fall. For years she had tolerated Richard’s temper, his constant belittling disguised as “discipline,” and his late nights at the office. She had suspected affairs, but seeing the proof so boldly paraded into her living room was a knife to the heart.
But Emily had something Richard didn’t know—something she had been holding onto quietly, waiting for the right time. And his cruel outburst, his declaration that she didn’t “deserve” her own home, had just lit the fuse.
She took a deep breath, steadying her voice. “Richard,” she said firmly, her tone carrying more strength than he expected. “If you’re so sure I don’t deserve this villa, then maybe it’s time the truth comes out.”
Richard’s brows furrowed. “What truth?”
Without another word, Emily walked to the study, her heels clicking against the polished floor, and returned holding a sleek folder of legal documents. She placed it on the dining table and opened it slowly, her eyes locked on Richard’s.
“Read these,” she said.
Michael leaned forward, curiosity in his eyes. Vanessa tilted her head, smirking. Richard picked up the top sheet—and his face immediately drained of color... Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

As I came out of the shower, my mother-in-law sneered, “Water can’t wash away who you really are.” Right after, my husband tore up our wedding album and forced me outside. They didn’t realize my brother, the real owner of my husband’s company, had just arrived. The moment he saw me, he stepped out of his car—what happened next left them speechless.
The day started with a tense silence. My husband, Kenneth, was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me, a silent silhouette. When my mother-in-law, Catherine, arrived, the air grew thick. She swept past me with her usual sarcastic remark, then turned to her son with a syrupy voice.
“Kenny, honey, you look so pale. Is she not feeding you?”
Kenneth said nothing. A chill crept over me. This wasn’t the usual morning nagging. Something dark was unfolding. I escaped to the shower.
When I stepped out, wrapped in just a towel, Catherine was blocking the door, her eyes filled with hatred.
“You can’t wash the rot out of your bloodline,” she hissed.
Before I could process it, Kenneth appeared. He stormed past me and began tearing our wedding album to shreds. He grabbed my arm, dragged me to the front door, and shoved me out into the courtyard, in full view of our nine-story building. The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.
I stood there. Barefoot, shivering, humiliated. I looked up and saw them in the window, two silent figures watching the show.
And then, I heard a familiar engine. A polished black car stopped. The door opened. My brother, Damian, stepped out.
They had no idea that the polished car belonged to my brother—the man who owned the company where Kenneth worked.
Damian took in the scene—me shivering in a towel, the shredded photos on the ground—without a flicker of emotion. He walked straight into the building. The silence that followed was terrifying. Minutes later, he emerged, took off his expensive jacket, and draped it over my shoulders. He didn’t say a word, simply leading me to his car. Only then, before starting the engine, did he look at me.
“He’s fired,” he said, his voice quiet, devoid of emotion. “As of this moment.” He paused, his gaze fixed on Kenneth’s pale figure in the window. “And that’s not all.” Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

On Thanksgiving, my daughter-in-law thought it was funny to pour gravy on me. The family laughed. Ten minutes later, the notary knocked at the door with a folder she had prayed would stay hidden.
I had spent three days preparing for Thanksgiving. My daughter-in-law, Jessica, opened the door, her smile a masterpiece of insincerity.
Dinner was like a well-rehearsed play, and I was the only one without a script. I had been placed at the far end of the table, an island in a sea of conversation.
That’s when it happened.
Jessica stood up, the gravy boat in her hand. She moved behind my chair and tilted it. Hot, brown liquid spilled over my head, soaking my hair, running down my face, and staining my best blue dress.
The table fell silent for a moment. Then, my son, David, began to laugh. The others joined in, a chorus of laughter that felt like a thousand tiny cuts.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Maria!” Jessica exclaimed, but her voice carried triumph. “How clumsy of me!”
She wanted to reduce me to a pathetic old woman, a laughingstock. I stood up, gravy still dripping onto their expensive carpet. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice quiet but steady. “I need to use the bathroom.”
As I wiped my face, the doorbell rang. I smiled at my reflection. I no longer saw a victim. I saw a woman who had carefully planned her final move.
I returned to the dining room. David came back too, his face a mask of confusion. “Mom, there’s a notary here. She says she has an appointment with you.”
The color drained from Jessica’s face. “A notary? For what?”
“She’s here for me,” I said. “I have some documents that need to be witnessed.”... Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

At our annual family reunion, my older sister, Maria, shoved me into the lake. She laughed as I struggled for air, her words cutting through the murky water: “Don’t be so dramatic.” My parents, Rebecca and David, watched from the dock, silent smiles on their faces. I didn’t argue. I just fought my way back to shore, lungs burning, a new, cold resolve hardening inside me......
The scent of pine needles and barbecue smoke hung over the lakeside cabin, a picture-perfect setting for the family’s favorite play: a recurring nightmare where I was cast, year after year, as the reliable, responsible, and utterly invisible younger sister. My older sister, Maria, was always the star.
"Hey, little sis," she slurred as I walked past, a smirk twisting her lips. "Thinking about all that money Grandma left you?"
I ignored her. My inheritance—mine, not "ours"—was a topic that grated on my family every day.
"Don't be like that," Maria said, stepping into my path. "You’re always so serious. You need to loosen up." My mother, Rebecca, watching from the porch, chimed in. "Bella, honey, don't be so sensitive. She's just teasing."
And then she shoved me. Hard.
The world tilted. One moment, I was on the dock; the next, I was tumbling into the shockingly cold lake. I surfaced, sputtering, only to hear laughter. It was Maria, doubled over, pointing. "Don't be so dramatic!" she shrieked. My parents watched from the porch, smiling. Not moving, just watching their youngest daughter struggle.
In that moment, watching them laugh, something inside me finally, irrevocably, broke.
A few days later, I was heading downstairs when I heard my parents’ voices.
"She’s barely spoken a word," my mother said. "This whole silent treatment thing is so childish."
"She always gets over it," my father grunted.
"We can’t afford for her to 'get over it' right now, David!" my mother snapped. "Maria needs the fifty thousand for her MBA program by the end of the month!"
Then her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if… we told Bella we were in trouble? That we needed her to co-sign a loan to save the business?"
My blood ran cold. They weren't just taking advantage of me; they were planning to actively deceive me, to trap me in debt to fund my sister's life.
Standing there in the shadows, something inside me didn't just break; it turned to ice. They thought I would 'get over it.' They had no idea I was about to disappear. And I was going to take Maria's fifty-thousand-dollar future with me.... Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

“You’ll Eat When You Learn Respect,” My Mother Declared, Locking The Kitchen For The Third Day—And When I Collapsed At School, The Truth Couldn’t Stay Hidden
Kimberly grew up in a family everyone in their small Indiana town admired: a father trusted as an insurance agent, a mother leading the PTA and volunteering at church, a sister crowned debate champion, and a brother already a rising football star. And then there was Kimberly—the “extra one.” Not athletic, not medal-smart, struggling with dyslexia that made reading slow, and worst of all… daring to ask “Why?”
“Why does she get tournament trips while I can’t have a tutor?”
“Why does he get a car at sixteen while we walk or take the bus?”
“Why do I do all the chores while they focus on their ‘talents’?”
Her questions were branded as “ungrateful” and “disrespectful.” The breaking point came when Kimberly asked to join art club, offering to pay the fee with her babysitting money.
“Absolutely not,” her mother snapped. “You can barely handle what you already have, and your grades are bad.”
When Kimberly protested, her father’s words cut sharp:
“You’re lying. If you were really trying, your grades would be better. You’re manipulative, and we’re done.”
Then came her mother’s sentence, cold and final:
“No dinner for liars. Until you show proper respect, you won’t sit at this table.”
Her siblings nodded in approval. Kimberly was sent upstairs, while the smell of pot roast and the sound of laughter drifted through the floorboards.
The next morning, the locks appeared—on the pantry, the fridge, even the fruit bowl was gone. Kimberly stretched her last dollars on crackers and a single apple, but the hunger fog grew heavier.
On the third day, during gym class, her body gave out. She stumbled, dropped to her knees, and hit the track as shouts echoed around her.
When the nurse weighed Kimberly and dialed 911, the hospital’s discovery would shatter the flawless image the Fletchers had built for years.
👉 But no one could have imagined how the hospital’s findings would turn our perfect image upside down. Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

😱 HEART-STOPPING ROMANCE DETONATES! “I LOVE YOU, DEACON!” Dr. Taylor Hayes SCREAMS, Utterly ENCHANTED as Deacon Sharp STEALS Her Heart in a BLINDING Flash of LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT on The Bold and the Beautiful! 💥 From a Casual Lunch at Il Jardino, Their SIZZLING Connection EXPLODES Into a WHIRLWIND Romance That ROCKS L.A.’s Elite, THREATENING to REWRITE the Forrester and Sharpe Dynasties FOREVER!
As days passed, Taylor found herself returning to the restaurant under various pretenses, each visit deepening their bond. Their conversations ranged from light-hearted banter to profound discussions about life and personal struggles. Deacon's warmth and sincerity drew Taylor in, making her forget the burdens she carried. "You deserve better than just surviving," he told her, igniting a flicker of hope within her.
However, the budding romance faced immediate scrutiny when Brooke Logan, a close associate of both Deacon and Taylor, stumbled upon them sharing a laugh at the bar. "Be careful, Taylor. Deacon's— full details below👇 Have a great time, everyone! 🌞🌳

10/13/2025

The little girl cried and told her mother, "He promised he wouldn't hurt." The mother took her to the hospital, then the police dog discovered the shocking truth...
It was a warm Saturday afternoon in a small suburb outside of Denver, Colorado. Eight-year-old Emily Carter sat quietly in her room, her small hands trembling as she clutched the stuffed rabbit she had carried since she was a toddler. Her mother, Laura Carter, was preparing lunch downstairs when she heard muffled sobs coming from Emily’s room. Concerned, she went upstairs and gently opened the door.
Emily’s eyes were red, her cheeks wet with tears. When she saw her mother, she ran forward and buried her face into Laura’s shirt. “Mommy,” Emily whispered between sobs, “he promised he wouldn’t hurt.”
Laura froze. The words struck her with the force of a hammer. She pulled Emily back slightly, searching her daughter’s face. “Sweetheart, who? Who hurt you?”
Emily hesitated, her small body shaking. “Uncle Mark,” she finally whispered.
Laura felt her stomach churn. Mark Johnson, her younger brother, had been staying with them for the past few weeks while he looked for a new apartment. He had always been close to the family, and Laura had trusted him around Emily without hesitation. Now, those words from her daughter changed everything.
Trying to stay calm, Laura sat Emily down and spoke softly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe with me. We’re going to go somewhere where people can help, okay?”
Emily nodded weakly, still clutching her stuffed rabbit. Laura grabbed her car keys, her heart racing with panic and rage, and drove straight to the nearest hospital.
At the emergency department of St. Mary’s Hospital, doctors quickly escorted Emily into a private room for examination. Laura explained in a trembling voice what Emily had told her. The medical staff reassured her that they would take care of both the child’s physical well-being and report the incident immediately.
Within an hour, two police officers arrived at the hospital. Officer Daniel Ruiz, a seasoned investigator in child protection cases, took Laura’s statement carefully, making sure not to pressure Emily into saying more than she could handle. “You did the right thing bringing her here,” he told Laura firmly.
As the investigation began, the police learned that Mark had left the Carter residence just a few hours earlier. Officer Ruiz requested the assistance of the K-9 unit to track him, fearing that he might try to flee or destroy evidence.
When the police dog was brought to the house and given Mark’s belongings to sniff, the animal led officers not only to places Mark had recently been but also to something unexpected in the basement. What they discovered would confirm Laura’s worst fears—and reveal an even darker truth than she had imagined... Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

"CATCH HER!!" - Luna runs away after Bridget discovers that Will is not the baby's father 🩸💥
Los Angeles explodes in betrayal and heartbreak as Luna’s darkest secret shatters every bond she’s built! When Bridget exposes the shocking DNA truth, chaos erupts — and Luna flees through Forrester Creations in a frantic attempt to escape the fallout. With Bill, Finn, and Brooke in hot pursuit, the once-gilded designer becomes the most hunted woman in LA. Will Luna face justice… or return with vengeance in her heart? 😱— (Full Details Below👇)

10/13/2025

My husband made dinner, and soon after my son and i collapsed. as i pretended to be unconscious, i heard him whisper, “it’s done, they won’t last long.” when he walked away, i told my son quietly, “don’t move yet.” what happened next changed everything.
I couldn't move. Beside me, my son, Eli, lay motionless. And then I heard it. My husband, Jared’s, voice, a cold, final whisper that sliced through the fog in my mind.
"It's done. They won't last long."
They. He meant us. I wasn't supposed to hear that. I was supposed to be de:ad.
As his footsteps faded, a primal scream rose in my throat, but I choked it back. Instead, I leaned close to Eli's ear and whispered, "Don't move yet."
Just hours before, Jared had announced he was cooking dinner—a rare event. The steak smelled a little off, his smile a little too wide. I took a few bites. So did Eli. That’s when the first wave of dizziness hit.
"Mom," Eli whispered, "my tummy hurts."
I knew then. This wasn't food poisoning. I collapsed, pulling Eli to the floor with me, and did the only thing I could: I pretended. And that’s when I heard the death sentence from my own husband.
The soft click of the front door. He was gone.
"Bathroom," I hissed, my voice a raw croak. "Spit it out. Throw up if you can."
I followed him, dragging my legs like sandbags. I turned on the tap, the sound a flimsy shield. I forced my fingers down my throat, desperate to purge the poison. Eli did the same, tears of pain and confusion streaming down his face.
My phone was dead. The landline, too. He had planned this meticulously.
I grabbed a flashlight and led Eli through the garage. "Go," I whispered. "To Mrs. Leverne's. Now!"
We survived. But that was just the beginning. The most horrifying truth was yet to come: the reason why. Why would the man I loved want to erase his own family from existence? Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

At my daughter’s birthday, my mother-in-law pushed the cake away, saying, “She doesn’t deserve this.” My husband just stood there, saying nothing. My daughter looked like she was about to cry—but then she grinned, pulled out her tablet, and said, “Grandma, I made you a video.” What happened next left the room silent....
My mother-in-law, Dolores, stood over the trash can, holding my daughter's unicorn birthday cake like it was contaminated waste. The three layers of vanilla cake, which I'd spent hours decorating with buttercream roses and a fondant unicorn, were about to meet coffee grounds and last night’s leftovers.
""She doesn't deserve a celebration,"" she announced, her voice cutting through the happy birthday song we’d been singing just seconds before.
My husband, Craig, just stood there, silent as always, his hands frozen mid-clap. Our daughter, Rosalie, watched her grandmother destroy the highlight of her special day. The other parents gasped. The children went quiet.
But what happened next made Dolores wish she’d never stepped foot in our house.
I’m Bethany, a 34-year-old elementary school teacher who thought I understood kids. But that day, my own seven-year-old daughter showed me what real courage looks like. Rosalie is the kind of kid who names her stuffed animals after Supreme Court justices and insists on reading the news with me. She observes everything while pretending to be absorbed in her coloring books. Craig, my husband, is a brilliant software developer but is terrible with confrontation. He’s the guy who apologizes when someone else steps on his foot. That gentle nature is what made me fall in love with him, but it also meant he never stood up to the one person who needed it most: his mother.
Dolores, age 62, was a retired bank manager and a professional destroyer of joy. In her world, children were to be seen, not heard, and certainly not celebrated unless they’d earned it through complete obedience. The birthday party was supposed to be simple. But Dolores always had other plans. What she didn’t know was that for weeks, Rosalie had been working on what she called her “special project.” The moment Dolores dropped that cake in the trash, I saw something change in Rosalie’s face. The tears were there, but behind them was something else. She wiped her eyes, walked over to her tablet, and said the words that would change everything.
“Grandma, I made you a special video. Want to see it?” Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

10/13/2025

“Forgive My C0w, She Doesn’t Know How to Behave”—My Husband Mocked Me in Front of Guests, but He Never Expected My Revenge
The evening began like a dream — a cozy dinner at my husband’s friend’s house. I wore a silk gown, hoping he’d look at me the way he once did.
But when a small piece of meat slipped onto my dress, everything changed. His face hardened, and then, with a cruel smile, he said aloud:
“Forgive my c0w. She doesn’t know how to behave in society. Stop stuffing your face! You’re already fa;t.”
The table fell silent. His friend snapped, “What are you doing? Your wife has a gorgeous figure!” Even his friend’s wife defended me. But he only sneered:
“Beautiful? Have you seen her without makeup? Every morning, I wonder why I married her.”
I fled to the bathroom, tears streaking my face. For years, I had endured his insults, mistaking them for love. But staring at the mirror that night, I whispered: No more. This ends now.
I returned to the table calm, composed: “Sometimes a man forgets the woman beside him gave up her youth, her dreams, even her body, to build his world. And instead of gratitude, she receives insults.”
Something in me shifted forever.
Two weeks later, at his company’s grand gala, I made my move. He expected me to be silent, perfect, invisible. Instead, I arrived in a silver gown that stole every gaze in the room.
And when the host announced, “A few words from our honored guest, Mrs. Taylor,” his eyes widened in sh0ck. He hadn’t known.
I ascended the stage slowly, deliberately, feeling hundreds of eyes on me... Watch: [in comment] - Made with AI

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