A Silent Voice Shouko Mga Nobela at Kwento

Two different worlds, two separate lives are fused together in this surreal tale of the supernatural. A world unknown to her and a world he runs from. An unending war between their worlds leads them down the same path with their destinies aligned. What will happen when the fate of their worlds hang in the balance and they have to make a choice? *** She had no idea how long she had been sleeping for but she woke up to the sound of someone sniffing. She was drowsy so she paid not much attention to it but then it continued, then she heard the voice again, “Lavender, you use lavender for your hair. How have I never sniffed your hair before?", the sniffing continued. The sound reverberated through the caves, whilst she felt the vibrations on his chest where she lay, but she did not need that to know whose voice it belonged to. It was deep but not hoarse, somehow it was powerful and soothing at the same time, it was the voice of a god, one that had spoken to her all of these months, one she had replayed over again in her head till it was ingrained in her memory. “Dragomir…”, she whispered in a teary voice, she proceeded to stand up but he held on to a part of her hair and was sniffing it. When he noticed her staring at him, he stopped and stared back at her as if she had just caught him trying to steal from the cookie jar. “Was that creepy?”, he asked.

Dark Mafia Scene “Who laid a hand on you? Dallion's voice was low, cold, and dangerous. His dark gaze bore into her, daring her to stay silent. When she didn’t respond, the tension snapped like a whip, his voice booming through the room, “Who?” The butler, standing rigid against the wall, swallowed hard before stammering out the words, “It... it was Mr. Rivers, sir.” The atmosphere turned deadly as Dallion's jaw clenched, fury igniting in his eyes. “Bring him to me.” The butler’s eyes widened in fear. “N-now, sir? It’s... it’s late.” Dallion's hand, once braced against the wall near her head, slowly curled into a fist. His eyes never left her face, his possessiveness was palpable. Without looking at the butler, his voice dropped to a lethal calm, “Do you need a better time? Or shall I break your legs to teach you urgency?” The butler didn’t need any more encouragement. He fled the room, returning twenty minutes later with a trembling Mr. Rivers. “Dallion, my friend, what’s all this about?” Rivers began, his voice casual as if nothing was amiss. But Dallion wasn't’t here for pleasantries. His eyes slid to the knife stabbed into the apple on the table, and in one fluid motion, he yanked it free, the blade glinting in the dim light. Without a word, Dallion grabbed Rivers outstretched hand, slamming it onto the table. The sharp scream that followed echoed in the room as Dallion, with one swift movement, sliced through the man’s fingers. Blood splattered across the polished wood as Rivers screamed in agony, clutching his mutilated hand. “No one touches what belongs to me,” Dallion's voice was eerily calm, his expression devoid of any sympathy.

Christmas Eve was meant to be the culmination of seven years of long-distance longing—the day Lorenzo finally slid an engagement ring onto my finger. Instead, a sudden emergency surgery chained me to the operating table. The patient wasn't just suffering from a premature delivery and catastrophic hemorrhaging; she was riddled with infections, the biological fallout of a reckless, hedonistic lifestyle. The girl on the table spat out orders with a venomous entitlement that made my blood run cold. "My husband is the head of the Corleone family. He’s second to none, and this entire city bows to him. If you can’t save my baby, you’re all dead." My mind went blank. There was only one head of the Corleone family: Lorenzo. "You’ve got the wrong man," I said, my voice wavering despite my frown. "The news said he’s already engaged to a woman from a rival family for a strategic alliance." The girl looked at me as if I’d just told a pathetic joke. She surveyed me with a mocking sneer. "Oh, he’s mentioned that woman. He said she’s like a cold corpse—that even touching her makes him sick to his stomach. She doesn't provide him a fraction of the pleasure I do." She smirked. "He heard something happened to the baby. He’s en route from Sicily right now with his personal detail." She flicked her phone screen open. There it was: a photo of her and Lorenzo, locked in a suffocatingly intimate embrace. I froze. A second later, a notification from Lorenzo vibrated against my palm. “Darlin’, something urgent came up tonight. I’m skipping the engagement dinner. I’ll make it up to you later.” Since they were so utterly in love, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. I dialed a number that had been silent for three years—the number of the true mastermind of the underworld, Don Sebastian. "Does your proposal from three years ago still stand?"

“I hope you won't do anything to disappoint me. If not, I will tell you the consequences of your mistakes.” That was the warning Ryan Gonzalez gave Agnes on his first day at work. He is arrogant and cold, he possesses the most power and wealth in New York City. And Agnes unfortunately made fun of him and dragged him to bed. She woke up and was scared so she ran away, but then fate forced her to approach Ryan at all costs. Will he remember who she is after a few months? Was his distaste a manifestation of his silent revenge on her?

When an emotionally unstable teenager finds himself tumultuously falling in love, with her, the owner of the voice in his head.

In the final second before the elevator crashed down, my husband finally picked up my desperate call for help. I begged him, who was in charge of elevator maintenance, to save me. "That elevator was just serviced. What game are you playing?" he snapped. "Wasn't your silent treatment so strong? Keep going and stop bothering me. It's Marina's birthday today." I never reached out to him again. I died. Later, he'd have given anything just to see me one more time.

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

"We call him out God. Because we have no other choice." Discipline and order is not Jada's choice. And after graduation, she expects to become a slave to a prison warden for the rest of her life. Just like the rest of the delinquents. However, her fate takes a sudden change when an offer is put on the table. Enter a competition. One to become a Silent - a deadly assassin who works for Alpha Kael, giving their entire life to defend him. To succeed, her stubbornness will be put to the test. And a relationship with the Alpha himself, although forbidden, might be the ticket to the top.

Born as a princess but Alexis Conde live a life as an orphan and been adopted by a mafia uncle. She live a life of a boyish girl with a martial artist background just to hide her identity she tried to be a very silent and timid and weakling little lady. Applying to pursue her model career. Alex went to apply as a cleaner to a very popular artist industry. The Most entertainment co. Owned by a very prominent bachelor Damian Lee What will happen if this two personality meet in an exciting encounter. Will there be a romantic chemistry between two opposite personality? Find out.

Ernest West left the courtroom with wings on his feet. Leaving Don James was, in Ernest's opinion, the best thing he had ever done for himself. No more tense silences. No more Don's silent, smothering adoration. Ernest had been released. Three years have passed since then. Now, what once was the best choice has turned into a noose around their necks. There is a sinister provision buried within the small print of the divorce papers that Ernest's attorney overlooked; they are obligated to live together and manage the small beach hotel that they used to own as a couple for an entire year. Thus, Ernest finds himself back amid the groaning wooden boards and salty panes of glass within the walls of where their love once withered away. However, Don is no longer the same weak and longing man that Ernest abandoned. He now stands as an intimidating pillar of cold indifference, forged by the stony resolve and lack of concern. Not even a passing glance comes from Don’s green eyes, which regard Ernest with only polite reserve. A year of closeness. A year of unresolved tension. A year of dealing with each and every lie that Ernest tried to bury beneath "irreconcilable differences." In the beginning, the plan is a silent battle—appointments stuck to the fridge, dinners taken in different corners of the house. Yet, there’s something about closeness that reveals the whole truth. Ernest discovers the picture albums that Don never discarded. He listens to telephone conversations in the dead of night that reveal the loneliness he feels himself. And gradually, painfully, he discovers that the greatest error made wasn’t the separation. It was letting Don leave.