Maikling mga Kwento & mga Nobela

My CEO boyfriend, Elias Thatcher, had always admired strength, yet he willingly supported a useless intern. Because he loved me more than life itself, or so I thought. When a routine physical revealed that the intern, Zoey Redwood, and I shared the same rare blood type. So, he decided to keep her around as my emergency backup. She became a living blood bank, just in case something ever happened to me. He cooked for her, took her on trips, made handmade gifts, and doted on her at every turn. He said he was doing it for my sake, building up good karma for me. Then, I got into a car accident. Rather than letting the intern donate blood to save me, my boyfriend had blood brought in from miles away. His explanation was gentle, almost tender. She had a cold. He was afraid something in her blood might be passed on to me. The very next day, Zoey was diagnosed with kidney failure. That was when he drugged me and had me wheeled into an operating room, forcing me to donate a kidney. His voice was warm as he explained, "Zoey is your last resort. She has to stay healthy so she can save your life in a real emergency. I can't use her up over every little illness or injury. Having you donate a kidney to her is for your future, too. "I don't want you overthinking things. Once the surgery is over, I'll marry you." What he didn't know was that I already had mid-stage leukemia. His decision to make me donate that kidney had caused my cancer to spread. I was dying. So, I would never get the chance to marry him.

“Miss, you’ve been standing here all by yourself all day. Who was the deceased to you?” I glanced back at the crematorium attendant and answered calmly, “I was the deceased.” The attendant’s face turned ashen with fear. Only after he confirmed that I looked nothing like the woman in the memorial photo did he finally speak. His voice was still trembling. “Miss, this isn’t something you should joke about.” I walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “If you knew it was a joke, why did you still get scared?” The truth was, I had not lied to him. Ever since my brothers brought Quiana White home, all the love and attention that once belonged to me went to her instead. The day she tortured me to death, I opened my eyes again and found myself in her body. If becoming the person I hated the most was the only way to get my brothers’ love back, then what did it matter? I left the crematorium and saw my oldest brother, Theo Langford. Before I could say anything, he slapped me across the face. “Who let you out before the seven days were up?!”

It's my first day undercover at my future husband's dessert shop, and chaos walks in with fake lashes and two-inch nails. "I want an ice cream. Heated." I paused. "Just checking... You want your ice cream hot?" She gave me a look like I'd failed kindergarten. "Yes. Hot ice cream. Are you slow?" Deep breath. Zen mode. Customer-first service smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Ice cream has to stay frozen, or it just turns into—well... milk. If you want something warm, we have hot tea or coffee." "I'm pregnant!" she screeched. "Pregnant women crave weird things! Plus, my doctor said I can't eat anything cold! Are you trying to kill my baby and me? Is that what this is?!" People started turning their heads. Fantastic. A whole audience. I kept my voice low. "Ma'am, I can refund you." She suddenly smacked the counter, knocking the scanner sideways. Her nails shot past my face like tiny knives. "What kind of attitude is that?! A pathetic cashier talking back to me? I'll call my husband and get you fired!" Then, she leaned in like she was about to reveal a royal bloodline. "Guess what? I'm the boss's wife." I blinked. If that was true, I really needed to stop thinking about helping my boyfriend to open 3,000 franchise stores.

After my father-in-law, Anthony Randall, has undergone a coronary artery bypass surgery, he decides to visit the company to inspect the new project. I've ordered the project department to prepare a stable, smooth-riding man basket. But what I receive is a dangerous-looking man basket that doesn't have any safety measures installed in it. Anisa Howell, the first love of my husband, Conner Randall, speaks up mockingly at that moment. "Since your junk-collecting dad wants to collect more junk in the construction site, it's only natural that I, the person in charge of this project, hold the fort for Mr. Randall. "Then again, I've always been a soft-hearted person. This man basket might be malfunctioning, but it's perfectly adequate to send you guys to your destination." Realization dawns on me immediately. Anisa must have mistaken Anthony as my actual dad, who works as a farmer in the countryside. I'm about to explain to her that Anthony has just undergone a heart surgery and cannot suffer from any emotional distress caused by any factors, including tall heights. But Anisa quickly commands her workers to shove us into the man basket before pulling down the lever, which will cause it to ascend rapidly. Poor Anthony has gone deathly pale from the fright. He keeps clutching at his chest hopelessly the whole time. But Anisa has the audacity to flaunt her privileges over the walkie-talkie. "I'm a VIP of a bungee-jumping club. Today, I'll let you have a taste of what it feels like to soar through the skies."

When my wife called the control tower for emergency assistance, I took off my headset, put on my earbuds and started listening to music. In my previous life, when her aircraft suffered a critical malfunction, I did everything I could to save her. I walked her through the emergency procedures, coordinated the landing, and brought more than one hundred passengers safely back to the ground. But when I ran to meet her with tears in my eyes, she pointed at me and screamed, "Why did you deliberately give me the wrong instructions? You almost killed everyone on the plane!" As the crowd turned on me, my best friend, the first officer, pretended to defend me. "Everyone, calm down. Don't go too far." I saved every life on that flight only to be trampled to death by the very people I had rescued. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the morning their flight took off.

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

The day SAT scores dropped, my twin sister Emily totally tanked. She cried so hard she could barely breathe. Mom, Dad, and Kenneth spent all night babying her. After midnight, Mom finally remembered I existed. "Amelia, what'd you get?" I checked my score. 1580. "Good enough for Halston." Halston was one of the best colleges in the country. The whole room went dead silent. For one stupid second, I thought they might actually be proud of me. Dad just stared. "You and Emily are twins. You look almost exactly alike. "Why don't you switch identities? "Let Emily go to Halston as you."

Stanley Meyer and I were the main leads of a sappy school romance novel. We were childhood sweethearts with a bond stronger than iron and steel. Everyone thought that I'd be Mrs. Meyer in the future despite the fact that I was the daughter of the Meyers' housekeeper. That was, until I personally witnessed Stanley making out with Tina West, Gerard West's illegitimate daughter who has just returned from abroad. He even put the emerald pendant, which was supposed to be a keepsake from my grandma, on her neck carefully. I was overwhelmed trying to figure out this unexpected variable outside the plot. But Stanley decided to imprison me in a mental asylum instead. "It's better for you to wake up from that daydream of yours. I'm sick of hearing you prattle about the male and female leads for so many years. Only when Tina is by my side do I feel a sense of freedom." The torture I was forced to undergo in the mental asylum was too much for me to handle. My only salvation was the spare time I got to scribble down the original plotline of this novel. When Stanley found out, however, he torched my drafts instantly. He even went as far as to poison the glass I drink from. Before I died, I heard his icy voice. "Tina will continue to live her life in fear as long as someone in this world remembers the original plot. That's why you must die for her sake." When I woke up again, I'd returned to the day I witnessed Stanley and Tina making out with each other. Everyone around me wore various expressions, though they collectively decided to stay quiet. I was the one who shattered the silence by raising my glass with a smile. "I wish you a lifetime of happiness."

While I was in the middle of getting intimate with my boyfriend, Hendrick West, a sudden burst of laughter came from under the bed. A chill ran straight through me. I shoved Hendrick away, scrambling to get up and check, but he pushed me right back down. "You're spacing out at a time like this? Guess you don't get to leave this bed today." I didn't question it. I let myself get pulled back in, eyes slipping shut as I tried to relax. Then the bedframe slammed loudly from underneath. I yelped and shrank under the blanket. A second later, his best friend burst out from under the bed, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. "No wonder you've been ditching us lately," Linda Fairbank said, grinning. "If I had such a horny girlfriend, I'd forget my friends, too!" The humiliation hit so hard that my face went pale. But Linda didn't care. She reached over and started tugging at my blanket. "He won't stop going on about how soft and full you are. What are you hiding for? Let me take a look." Hendrick finally stepped in, trying to stop her when she went too far. Linda just smacked his bare backside without hesitation. "I've been stuck under that bed forever waiting on you," she said lazily. "And instead of taking care of me first, you're busy standing up for someone else?" Without missing a beat, Hendrick took her calf into his hands and started massaging it. She shot me a smug, challenging smile. I picked up my phone and called Hendrick's mother. I said evenly, "Julie, are you aware that your son lets other people run his life like this?"

When my wife's first love was injured in a car accident and urgently needed a kidney transplant, she gave me an ultimatum. If I refused to donate my kidney, she said she would take our daughter and die alongside him the very next day. Crying, she begged. "Can you stop being so selfish? It's only one kidney. "It's not like you'll die! Are you really going to force me and your daughter to our deaths?" With a bitter smile, I agreed. What she didn't know was that our daughter had already died in the very same car accident that injured her beloved first love. And I was suffering from end-stage kidney failure. Once I went through with the surgery, I wouldn't be far behind from death either. Since she was willing to sacrifice everything for the man she loved, then I would give her exactly what she wanted. I would make her the person responsible for both my death and our daughter's so she would have to live with that regret for the rest of her life.

After the engagement dinner, my grandmother was hauled down to the family's dungeons. The order was given by Serena, who handled the finances for my husband-to-be, Vincent, the heir to the Moretti family. Vincent himself led her down, refusing to hear a word of explanation. "The late Don's wife's diamond cross is missing. Your grandmother was the only guest not part of the family. If she didn't take it, who did?" Serena stood at the top of the stairs, her arrogant gaze sweeping over my face. It was laughable. Based on nothing but Serena's word, they could lock an old woman away. "She stays down there for every day the cross is missing. But that's one thing, our wedding is another. We're still on for next month." I glanced down at the diamond ring on my finger, engraved with the family crest. Exhaustion washed over me. This whole marriage felt meaningless.

In the tenth year I stayed in this world, I found out my husband, who used to say he loved me more than his life, was unfaithful. He cheated with my so-called sister, the one who took my place growing up. For her, my parents called me cold, and he called me selfish. Somewhere along the way, everyone forgot that I had only stayed to save this world. I used my own lifespan and life force to keep the world from falling apart. Ten years passed, and the world got used to it. Even the people who once treated me like a goddess started saying I was petty, that I didn't see the bigger picture. In the end, not a single person stood on my side. So I chose to let it all go and go home. The moment my consciousness began to fade, the world started to break. Floods, earthquakes, tidal waves all hit at once. In the middle of it, I thought I heard someone crying, calling my name.

The new graduate trainee asked for help in our team's Slack channel late that night. She said her apartment was flooding after the hurricane, and asked if my brother could drive her to a nearby hotel. In my previous life, I gave in. I let Jake go. The next morning, Emily showed up clutching a torn bra. Through tears, she accused my brother of sexually assaulting her. Jake had just started his freshman year of college. No matter how much he denied it, no one believed him. He was suspended from school. Our family business took a devastating hit. My father suffered a stroke. My mother collapsed from the stress. Emily rode the wave of public sympathy, won a 1-million-dollar civil settlement, secured a permanent position at the company, and took the promotion that should have been mine. She even came to gloat in front of me. "Sarah, everything I have today, I owe to you. If you hadn't asked Jake to pick me up that night, I never would've made it this far." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night the hurricane hit. Emily was asking for help in our team's Slack channel. My apartment's flooding. The rain is so bad I can't get a ride anywhere. Sarah, could your brother do me a favor and drive me to a nearby hotel? I reached over and stopped Jake, who was about to grab his car keys. Then I replied in the channel. Jake isn't going. Send me your address. I'll contact emergency services and the city's flood-response team.

Of the five boys who'd been raised to marry me, Lance Riverford was the one who hated me the most. And yet, he was the one I loved the most. Three times I was reborn, and three times I forced him to be my husband. Each time ended the same way—he and his childhood sweetheart killed me. When I opened my eyes for the fourth time and met that same look of loathing in his eyes, something inside me finally let go. I turned away and chose his rival, Jace Elden, as my husband instead. But at the wedding, Lance demanded with tears in his eyes, "Why did you choose someone else this time? Are you doing this just to spite me?" That was when I realized… he'd been reborn too.

On Mother's Day, my mother-in-law passed away suddenly in the hospital. And my wife—a top-tier, elite surgeon—personally signed the organ donor consent form and led the team that removed her heart. I rushed to the hospital like a madman to confront her, only to find her calmly pulling off her gloves. "Mike's mother has been waiting for this heart for three years. He saved my life once. This is the only way I can repay him. "Mike has no one left but his mother. Can't you be a little more understanding? I'll bring him to lay flowers for your mother. Let's just put this behind us." I stared at the body on the table, face covered, then at the still-damp blood staining her white coat—and I almost laughed out loud from sheer disbelief. She still had no idea… that heart belonged to her own mother.

When I opened my eyes again, I was pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the skyscraper by my stepbrother, Rocco. The man I had been infatuated with for a decade. He panted, his hot lips and tongue trailing along my collarbone as he murmured, "Don't go." In my past life, on the night I received my acceptance letter from London Business School, Rocco got blind drunk. Late that night, I gave in to his pleas for me to stay. I willingly gave myself to him. After a debauched night, his cherished fiancée, Clara, caught me walking out of his room the next morning, my clothes in disarray. She ran out in tears, her parting words ringing in the air, "I'll let you have each other." A month after she disappeared, the family search party found her engagement ring at the edge of a cliff. At the bottom of the cliff lay mangled remains, battered by the waves until they were unrecognizable. Rocco clutched that ring and didn't sleep all night. On the surface, he acted as if nothing had happened, even arranging a trip for me to Sicily, telling me to go and relax. The night I landed, I was kidnapped by assassins from a rival family. I screamed for him to pay the ransom, only to hear him give the order himself over the phone: "Don't make her death a quick one. The Costello princess? She's nothing but a damn liability. Torture her. Break every bone in her body. " "This is what she owes Clara." You like playing games, Rocco. But in this life, I refuse to play along.

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back.

The night my mate died saving me, his last words were: "If there is a next life, let me be with Odette." So when I woke up, back on the day I begged my father to let me marry him, I chose someone else.

The Consigliere—my husband, Sal Barzini—who'd always despised anything soft or weak—suddenly started sleeping with a teddy bear. One button eye missing, filthy as a stray dog, yet he cuddled that beast every night, curled up in silk sheets like a baby returning to the womb. And left me freezing on the edge of the master bedroom. I couldn't stand it anymore. At our son Luca's first-year baptism, I announced I wanted out. Everyone went numb with shock. Sal grabbed a glass of red wine and threw it in my face. "You're jealous of a stuffed animal? Have you lost your fucking mind?" I wiped the wine from my cheek, cold as ice. "You say you want to spend your life with that beast. I'm giving you my blessing."

The day my boyfriend, Lucian Farrell, and I, Roxanne Schmidt, decide to register our marriage, the million-dollar diamond ring he'd promised me turns into a can tab. So, I broke things up with him on the spot. In a panic, Lucian fishes out the purchase receipt. "I just forgot to bring the ring. If it bothers you, I can go home and get it right now," he coaxes. My gaze lands on the figure hurrying toward both of us. "There's no need for that. Your 'little shadow' has already brought it over for you," I replied indifferently. Evelyn Wiley rushes up before me with tears in her eyes. A large diamond ring is wedged tightly around her swollen ring finger. "I just wanted to help Ms. Schmidt try the size. But it wouldn't come off no matter how hard I tried…" she explains between sobs. Lucian's face darkens instantly. "Who said you could touch it? The ring was meant for Roxanne!" he snaps. He wrenches at the ring, but it doesn't budge at the slightest. I watch the commotion before me with my arms folded. All of a sudden, a laugh escapes me. "It's simple. If it won't come off, then we can just cut her finger off."