Mag-log inShare
Hundred and eight
Huling Na-update:
2025-08-09 02:48:27
Pinakabagong kabanata
He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge Hundred and ten
Arielle moved quickly once the documents were in her hands. By morning, she had already cross-referenced the NDA copies, verified the memo timestamps, and started drafting formal notices to the proxy label’s parent company. She made it clear that we weren’t coming after headlines. We were coming for ownership.“This won’t go to court if we do it right,” she said, standing at the center of our kitchen two days later. “But if it does, we’re ready.”Julian sat on the edge of the counter, arms crossed, listening. I leaned over the breakfast table with my notes. A legal pad, not a laptop. Somehow, I still thought better when things were written by hand.“I don’t want to name her publicly,” I said.“You won’t have to,” Arielle replied. “Our position is strong enough to settle in private. She’ll cave. She always does when she’s cornered.”Julian looked at me. “And what if she doesn’t?”I paused.“Then we’ll fight,” I said. “But on our terms. With our voice.”The next few days passed in quiet
He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge Hundred and nine
I asked to meet in a place that didn’t carry memory. Neutral, clean, and quiet. A bookstore café tucked between two buildings in a part of the city that hadn’t changed much in twenty years. The kind of place where no one rushed and no one leaned too far in. Julian walked me there but stayed outside when I went in. He knew I needed to do this myself.She was already seated when I arrived.She had chosen the back corner. Her coat was folded neatly over the chair beside her. No makeup, no jewelry. She looked younger than I expected, and older too, in that way people sometimes do when they’ve spent years proving they mattered and not quite believing it.“I’m not recording anything,” I said gently as I sat down. “And I’m not here to ask you to fix anything.”“I know,” she said.We sat for a minute without speaking. The clink of cups behind the counter filled the space between us. She sipped her drink slowly and then looked up.“I worked for Alessia for almost two years,” she said. “Right a
He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge Hundred and eight
The letters stayed with me longer than I expected. Even after I tucked them away again, the words echoed. They weren’t loud. They just lingered in a way that made silence feel fuller. Some parts of myself I had buried came back up like softened thread rising through water. I wasn’t ready to speak them aloud yet, but I no longer flinched when I thought about them. That alone felt like progress.Julian didn’t ask about the letter he read. He didn’t apologize either. He just made dinner that night and sat beside me on the couch without a word. I think he understood that some truths live better when they aren’t dissected right away.The next morning, I opened my sketchbook again.Not the new one. The original. The one I kept in a shallow drawer under fabric rolls and notes and the tracing paper I had stopped using after the shutdown. Its spine was soft now, the corners dulled. When I opened it, it smelled like graphite and memory.I spent the morning studying the lines. The folds I used t
He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge Hundred and seven
It started with a drawer I hadn’t opened in months. One of the narrow ones in the back corner of my desk, the kind that collects scraps you promise to deal with later but never do. I had been looking for a spare needle, something small and practical, when my fingers brushed against the edge of a thick envelope. Not new. The paper was soft from time, creased at the corners. I knew what it was before I pulled it out.The handwriting on the front was mine.There were more inside the drawer. Seven in total. All addressed to no one, folded carefully, stored without any intention of ever being sent. Letters written during the quiet days, back when I still signed my name Noelle. When I lived like a ghost inside someone else’s skin.I carried them to the couch and sat with my legs tucked beneath me. The light was thin and gray through the window. It felt like the right kind of afternoon to remember who I had been.The first letter was dated two months after I had left everything behind. It wa
He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge Hundred and six
Julian brought dinner to the studio that night. He didn’t ask if I was hungry. He just placed the container on the windowsill and sat across from me with a quiet look that said he knew I would need it eventually. I let my pencil rest beside the page and leaned back.He opened one of the boxes and handed me a fork. Neither of us spoke for a while. The room smelled like roasted garlic and turmeric and waxed cotton. It should have been a strange combination, but somehow it felt like home.“You’re quiet,” I said eventually.He shrugged, poking at his rice. “It feels like a moment worth being quiet for.”“I’m not angry,” I said.“I know.”“I was. For a long time. About a lot of things. But not this. Not anymore.”He nodded slowly, then looked around the room. “It’s strange, isn’t it? That you can lose something that once felt like your whole self, and then years later, hold a piece of it again and realize it didn’t kill you to let it go.”I watched him, my fork resting midair. “You think t
He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge Hundred and five
It started quietly, like most things do these days. No announcement. No scandal. Just a name mentioned over coffee, a folded page in a trade magazine, a whispered remark from someone I used to know well but hadn’t spoken to in years. I almost missed it. Would’ve missed it, if Simone hadn’t paused mid-sentence and tilted the page toward me, her finger tapping once, deliberate.“You’ll want to look at this,” she said.I did not expect to see the silhouette of my own work staring back at me. Not exactly, not down to the last detail, but close enough that I knew. A particular sleeve curve I had only used once, a way the fabric twisted at the hip that had taken me four sketchbook tries to solve. Not copied, not blatantly. But echoed. Whispered through another label, bent just enough to avoid accusation, but not enough to hide the truth from someone who had lived it.Julian sat across from me, his fork suspended halfway to his plate. I hadn’t even noticed the conversation had stopped.“What
Maaari mong magustuhan
Flash Marriage: A Billionaire For A Rebound
LiLhyz702.7K viewsI Want You Back
Meminger508.8K viewsHer Graceful War Song
Summer's Blaze869.0K viewsA Ruling Passion: Mr Tremont's Priceless Little Bride
Lemon Flavored Cat1.5M viewsDear Ex-Husband, Your Enemy Wants Me
E.L Shorthouse231 viewsHis Ex Mistress, His Enemy
Krystal Bahmz197 viewsPerfectly Ruined
A'sha Writes141 viewsHer Ultimate Rich Daddy
Shining Star87 views
