Maikling mga Kwento & mga Nobela

Three years after getting out of prison, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

During freshman boot camp, my roommate covered herself from head to toe in her homemade sunscreen every day. It made her skin fair and soft, and made her smell so sweet that she drew the attention of countless young men. Even my rich boyfriend led the campaign to crown her campus beauty queen. But only I knew the fragrance she added to her sunscreen was toxic. It would make her skin rot if she used it for a long time. I said nothing. Instead, I quietly applied to switch dorms. In my last life, I had warned her out of kindness. She cried in front of everyone and said I was trying to isolate her. All the young men called me jealous. My boyfriend broke up with me in anger, then pursued her instead. It didn't take long for my roommate's skin to really start rotting, and I rushed to apply the salve made from an old family recipe. The wounds healed, but her skin turned dark and rough. She went from campus beauty queen to campus joke overnight. My boyfriend dumped her, and the other young men avoided her like the plague. She blamed everything on my jealousy. On the day she was forced to withdraw from university, she tied me up on the top floor of a university building. Then she poured a bucket of sulfuric acid over my head. "It's all because of your accursed salve that everyone's laughing at me! You ruined my chance to marry into a rich family!" I died from the torment. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of my university's freshman boot camp.

During a game of Truth or Dare at a company gathering, my wife, Whitney Stuart, picks dare. She has to share a passionate kiss with a man for 30 seconds while holding a sheet of tissue between their lips. Even though I, her lawfully wedded husband, am right there with her, she doesn't hesitate to choose her assistant, Zach Green, instead. Once the 30 seconds run over, the two of them reluctantly part, the tissue now drenched with their saliva. During the second round, I end up getting chosen. Chuckling, I say, "I pick dare." I turn to the side and kiss the female intern sitting next to me.

My mother-in-law was somehow allergic to me. As long as I was in the house, her skin would break out in rashes, and she would struggle to breathe. The hospital could not find any specific allergen. They said it might be something to do with my scent. To give his mother some relief, my husband Keith asked me to stay in a hotel every weekend. I quietly packed away everything that was mine. I even stopped wearing my favorite perfume just so I could stay home for one extra day. However, her condition only grew worse. The days I was allowed to be home dropped from five days a week to three, and eventually to just one. I never complained. I only hoped she would get better soon. One day, I left work early to pick up a document from home. I heard laughter from inside the house. "Mom, your trick really works! Every time you cough, my brother kicks that woman out." It was Keith's god-sister Caroline, who had studied abroad. My mother-in-law laughed smugly. "Caroline, you're the best. You can cook, and you give great massages. You're nothing like that useless block of wood who's always in the way. "Keith, hurry up and marry Caroline already. Get rid of that woman!" Keith's voice was full of indulgence. "Mom, don't say things like that. Caroline, look at the perfume I bought you. You've worked hard lately." All strength left my body as I stood frozen at the door.

The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated. Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers." I turned off my phone and ignored him completely. In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published. People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family. I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps. Yet, it didn't matter. The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine. Just those ten minutes destroyed me. The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls. Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression. My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel. In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life. And then, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.

For the past two weeks, my best friend, Matthew Douglas, had been dodging me. While scrolling, I came across a tarot livestream and decided to use it to check whether something had gone wrong between us. I had barely sent two gifts into the stream when an anonymous male account unmuted himself. His voice was deliberately disguised, but he spoke with barely concealed glee. "Tarot master, I'm about to run off to Sanyara with my best friend's fiancée. Read my cards. Will he catch us?" I recognized the cadence, the pauses. I was still frowning at my screen when the tarot reader flipped a card and said, "The cards show some risk. My advice? Lay a smokescreen first. Tell him your company is sending you on a business trip. Stagger the timing, and you'll be in the clear." A second later, my phone lit up. A message from Matthew appeared. Matthew: [Sorry, man. I can't make it to your suit fitting this week. An investor just sprung a last-minute site visit on me in Sanyara. My bad!]

All the paparazzi in Glorisia knows that Wanda Foster would rather sleep with an escort from a nightclub than with me, her legally-wedded husband. The daily question they ask is, "When will Mr. Gulliver give his precious first time away?" When faced with the paparazzi's cameras, Wanda turns to look at me arrogantly. "We can just lead different romantic lives on our own. If you don't like how I act, feel free to sleep with someone else too." After that, Wanda turns to leave. That night, the spicy photos of her and her latest beau go viral on the news once again. Just when everyone thinks I will spend yet another sleepless night agonizing over the news, I contact some paparazzi and place a reservation on a spot for sensational news. Then, I strip down and mess up the bedsheets before taking a nude photo of myself from another person's POV. After that, I use an unknown number to text Wanda. "Oh my, James is seriously amazing in bed! Let me know when you're going to divorce him!"

My wife, an airline captain, was eight months pregnant when her plane crashed. In the middle of the disaster, she carried out an emergency landing. I searched through the wreckage for any sign of my wife, Candice Jenkins, only to be told that not even her remains could be found. Other than me, the only survivors were my wife’s younger sister and her brother-in-law, Austin Ryles. I searched frantically for my wife’s whereabouts, but five months later, I accidentally overheard my sister-in-law arguing with a friend while drunk. "Austin suddenly lost his wife, and his arm was injured in the crash. How could I just leave him alone? "Back then, Jon Cole’s mother drugged me and forced me to marry him. After all these years, it’s impossible for me not to feel some resentment. I might as well use this chance to make up for my regrets. Once Austin’s arm recovers, everything can go back to normal." Only then did I realize that the 'sister-in-law' standing before me was actually my missing wife, Candice Jenkins. My heart turned cold. I threw her memorial portrait into the trash and called my parents. "Stop looking for Candice. Just erase her records. "I’m remarrying."

When I was 17 years old, I got hit in the head by a falling beam just to save Victoria Chandler, who was stuck in a blazing place. Since then, I become a dummy. In order to save up money for my physical therapy, Victoria gives up on pursuing her studies. Instead, she starts taking up all sorts of odd jobs and manual labor. Ten years have passed since then. Victoria is now the youngest businesswoman of Jeronich. Meanwhile, I'm still the dummy who still needs her to help tie my shoelaces and feed me. But later on, Victoria begins going home later at night. There's only disgust in her eyes when she looks at me. One day, I accidentally break the music box her assistant, Mike Tate, has gifted her. That's the first time she loses her temper at me and drags me all the way to the rooftop. Then, she orders me to jump off the 50-floor building. I have no idea why Victoria wants me to do this. All I know is that I'll get rewarded for being a good boy. Since young, I've been terrified of tall heights. But now, I'm even more terrified by the idea of Victoria abandoning me. With a smile on my face, I back away from Victoria slowly. "Please don't be mad at me, Vicky. I'll always obey your orders."

Before our bonding ceremony, my mate, Alpha Zarya, told me she had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Soren. She claimed he had a fatal moon-fade sickness, that his wolf was dying. If she didn’t mark him, he would die. I fought her on it. The next day, she moved Soren straight into the pack house penthouse. The suite meant for the future Head Mate. My suite. To calm me down, she even bowed her head—a rare show of weakness. “I’ll remove the mark as soon as he’s stable,” she promised. “You are still my only Head Mate.” But then Soren found me. He handed me a magical diagnostic report. Permanent Mark & Deep Knotting: Three Weeks. They hadn't just slept together. They had formed a permanent, deep-knotted bond long before she ever “confessed” to me. My world turned to ash. My pen bit into the calendar, scratching a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our bonding ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop. The email from the Laureate Healers Guild of Europe was waiting. I typed two words. "I accept."

My girlfriend had always been drawn to powerful men, yet she was perfectly content to keep a useless intern on her payroll. She said she loved me with her whole life. When a routine health screening showed that the intern and I shared a rare blood type, she chose to keep him close. She claimed it was just a precaution, a backup source of blood in case I ever needed it. She cooked for him, took him on trips, made him gifts by hand, and fussed over him at every turn. She insisted it was all for my sake. To build good karma for my future. Then I was in a car accident. She arranged for blood to be brought in from over 60 miles away rather than let the intern donate a single drop. She said he had a cold and worried his blood might make me sick. The next day, the intern was diagnosed with uremic nephropathy. My girlfriend drugged me and had me wheeled into the operating room to donate a kidney before I could say a word. Her voice was gentle when she explained it afterward. "Daniel is our trump card. He has to stay healthy. He can only be used when your life is genuinely on the line, not wasted on every small setback. I had you donate the kidney for your own future, so you would stop overthinking everything. Once you are out of surgery, I am marrying you." What she did not know was that I already had mid-stage leukemia. The surgery accelerated its spread. I was dying, and I would never have the chance to marry her.

On the day I was supposed to register the marriage with my girlfriend, the CEO of Whitmore Group, her scheming male assistant stepped in first and handed over his ID. Just like that, the marriage certificate that should have belonged to me and my girlfriend became his and hers instead. All I did was ask a couple of questions. The assistant dropped to his knees in front of me, looking as if his world had ended. “Nathan, this is all my fault. If I hadn’t needed to get my child registered for school, I never would have resorted to something like this and entered a fake marriage with Claire.” Then he started sobbing and tried to slam his head into the wall as if he had to die to make up for it. Claire Whitmore had always been sharp and levelheaded, but this time, instead of saying a word for me, she slapped me across the face in front of everyone. “Ryan is a single father. Everything he did was for his child. Do you really have to be this petty? “It’s just a certificate. Once Ryan’s child is enrolled, I’ll divorce him. What difference does it make if you get yours a little later? Did you really have to push him to the edge? “Get on your knees and apologize to Ryan. Then give him half your salary as compensation. If you behave, I might let you borrow our certificate, take a picture of it, and show it off in your family group chat. Otherwise, don’t even think about getting one with me.” I gave a cold laugh. “Then forget it.” And I did not mean only the certificate. I was done with her, too.

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…

As the older brother, I agreed to marry a dead woman just to get the five hundred thousand dollars for my younger brother to get married. My younger brother insisted that the middle-aged couple, who had lost their daughter, only wanted their daughter to experience being married before her death. My girlfriend also persuaded me to do it. She said I just needed to lie in the same bed as her for one night and do nothing. I nodded and agreed. But when I got to that family’s house, the parents pulled out a white bedsheet and handed it to me. “You have to actually be intimate with my daughter. Otherwise, I won’t pay you a single cent.”

On the night of the full moon, the Northern Wolf Pack held its annual honors ceremony. Alpha Rhys Ashbourne coldly handed out rewards to the elite wolf guards. My coworkers received bonuses. Spirit medicine. Weapons. When it was my turn, he suddenly stopped. “You don’t have enough seniority.” Low laughter spread through the hall. A black gift box was tossed into my arms. “So I prepared something else for you.” I opened the box. Inside lay a wolf fang collar. The floating comments exploded across my vision. 【Holy shit! The Alpha gave away his resonance collar?!】 【That’s basically like putting his manhood around her neck!】 【She doesn’t even know she’s a potential Mate yet!】 【If she touches it once, the Alpha over there is gonna lose his mind...】 I froze for a second. Then instinctively touched the wolf fang. The next second. The Alpha on the high platform stopped breathing. His hand clenched hard around the armrest of the throne. Meanwhile, I was only staring down at the collar in confusion. ...That sensitive? After hesitating for a moment, I obediently fastened the collar around my neck. High above the hall, the man closed his eyes. His throat bobbed slowly.

At the pack's corporate meeting, the new finance intern flashed a financial report onto the projector screen. "Alpha, I'm reporting Aurora for embezzlement! She used her position to wire massive amounts of company funds into her private account. I demand she be banished immediately!" That girl, Lily, tipped her chin up and slammed a stack of files onto the conference table. Alpha Jasper and the elders locked their eyes on me. Their glares felt like claws. I almost laughed out loud. Jasper’s company had been on the verge of bankruptcy. To save it, I secretly dumped millions of my own dollars to fill the hole. The "embezzled funds" she was barking about? That was my own money. And now? I need this pack of ungrateful mutts to approve me moving my own money?

In the third year after I've run away from home, my parents finally remember my existence. But the reason is that the fake heir, Jayson Norman, is displeased with his marriage partner in the upcoming marriage alliance. That's why my parents instantly think of getting me to replace Jayson in the marriage. When Mom sees Katrina Cobb, the woman whom I've eloped with, rummaging through the trash in a wheelchair, she feels extremely satisfied. "Back then, Joshua refused to stick to his role as the heir of the Norman family. He even went as far as to push Jayson down the stairs just so he could elope with this wretched woman! I bet he must be riddled with remorse by now!" With hazy eyes, Katrina mutters, "Yeah, he was filled with remorse. He regretted going back to that place you call 'home' with you." Dad lets out a cold huff. "Well, that's enough tantrum on his part! Tell him to get his ass home for the marriage alliance, and we'll consider the past water under the bridge!" Having noted Katrina's silence, Dad wastes no time in kicking her wheelchair over. "You wretched cripple! Where have you hidden my son?" I can only float in mid-air as I gaze down at Katrina, who's wailing in pain on the ground. At that moment, I feel as though my soul is getting ripped apart. "Mom, Dad, I've been dead for three years. How am I going to take Jayson's place in this marriage alliance?"

For seven years, my CEO girlfriend never once came home with me to see my parents. She told me that she hated social obligations, and that she didn't want to deal with the gossip and hassle that came with meeting my parents and relatives. Even in daily life, she treated me with cold professionalism, never spending any anniversaries with me in favor of working overtime. I'd always thought that it was just a simple matter of her being too rational and prideful, and I was fine with slowly teaching her how to nurture a relationship. That was, until Thanksgiving arrived. Once again, she stressed that holidays were just a capitalistic norm, and that she was going to work overtime instead of coming home with me. By chance, however, I accidentally stumbled upon my intern's social media. Inside a private room at a five-star hotel, he and his family sat at a table as my girlfriend sat beside him, carefully serving him food. [Yo, my boss secretly brought my parents into the city for Thanksgiving, and even gave me gifts! She told me that I was worth special gestures, too. Where can you even find a boss this romantic? My parents even told me to marry her as soon as I could! LOL!] So she knew better than anyone how to make people feel cherished. I just wasn't worth any of it. I commented: [How romantic.] Then, I messaged my girlfriend. [Let's break up.]

After Lily turned six, I dragged her through ninety-nine DNA tests. I even pulled her out of school. Quit my job too. Every day, another hospital, another test. The house? Total chaos. And every single report said the same thing—biologically related. By the hundredth test, Wesley snapped. He yanked Lily behind him. "Lily came out of you. How could she not be yours? If you keep this up, we're done." He pulled out the divorce papers. Lily's face crumpled. She sobbed so hard she could barely breathe. "Mom, you said I was your most precious baby. Don't you want me anymore?" "You were under a lot of stress after giving birth. It turned into depression. Let's see a doctor," Wesley's mom said, wiping her eyes. I didn't say a word. I ripped the papers to shreds, yanked Lily out from behind him. "One more test. Once we get the report, you can divorce me if you still want to." The report came back. No one said a word.

Now that I've gotten reborn to the day Luke Anderson, the campus heartthrob, has to sell his sugar baby agreement at an auction due to his family's bankruptcy, I no longer try my best to save him. Instead, I choose to sit by and watch the drama unfold. In my previous life, after I saved Luke from going down that path, he was forced to marry me because of the swirling rumors that came from the auction. But he never let me get close to him even though we were married for eight years. On top of that, he even plotted against me just to snatch my company and my assets from me and gift them to his first love, Janice Braxton. He even had three children with her. Before Luke cast me out of our home, he mocked me, "If it wasn't for you acting like a saint by bidding for my sugar baby agreement, there wouldn't have been that many rumors circling our campus, forcing me to marry you! If not for all of this, I wouldn't have missed out on so many years with Janice!" Just like that, I died a tragic death. Since I'm already reborn, I decide to grant Luke's wish to be with Janice, so I will not be acting like a saint anymore.