Monument Maker

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

She is a normal human, who lives her life with its flow though she didn't enjoy it as much, she was happy with what she had. It was all until she met an extremely handsome greek god like man, Oops a statue. what is happening around her and why does it happens, and just after she met him? now she is confused of her identity. and well, is it wrong for her to fall in love with that statue man?

Ailani Hart works as an architect for Skyframe Consortium, a small firm under Dominion Industries, owned by the most feared man in all of Denburg. With complications with her grandmother's health and medical debt from insurance, she is forced to take up a project from a dangerous man that would turn her whole life into different shades of black. With each shade less prettier than the last. Dominion Industries is sketchy; Ailani knows this. What she doesn't know is that the CEO of the company she works for is the leader of the Denburg Mafia. But the real question is… Will she find out who he is? And even if she did, is she ready to rub shoulders with the King of the criminal world?

A man fades away, but not before ensuring his legacy is passed on. A boy becomes a man, and starts to awaken to his destiny. A monster lurks among men, and thus becomes more than what he is. A young woman comes to terms with her future, then works to protect the future of others. And all of this comes about from the edge of a blade, as a hero is not born, but rather made.

In my previous life, the apocalyptic haunts descended without warning, and the whole world plunged into a living hell. After two days of starvation, my husband and mother-in-law tied me to a chair. I begged them desperately, but they did not spare me. Instead, to keep their "food" fresh, they sliced the flesh straight from my leg. When I was reborn, I spent every last cent of my fortune to hold a grand, extravagant funeral, for myself. My husband and mother-in-law thought I had lost my mind. However, what they had not known was this: anyone who buried themselves could claim the treasures laid to rest in their own coffin: golden coins that could command the anomalies of the end times. Which meant that with this extravagant funeral, I would stand invincible when the apocalypse arrived. That time, without me as their "meat" and scapegoat… I would see how long they lasted.

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”