Big Summer A

Adina Daugherty became pregnant after being framed and gave birth to quadruplets. Her younger sister stole two of those children to tie herself to the Winters family, while Adina faced death to escape with the other two children. Five years later, Adina returned triumphantly. Since her sister loved pretending to be pure despite her rotten heart, she would torment her. As for her other two children? She would snatch them back! Duke Winters pinned her against the bed and said, “Why don’t you steal me as well?”Adina sneered. “Dream on!”But right after saying it, she puked. “So… how many children this time?” Duke asked.

Once upon a time, she had a happy family and lived a comfortable life. But because she fell for the wrong guy, everything was ruined.The man she'd fallen for gets together with her best friend.She shows up for their wedding, looking awkward. All she wants is an explanation and some closure, but she's subjected to humiliation. Then, everything changes when another man appears and saves her from that hellhole.How will a marriage that's related to a family's survival turn out?In this marriage, they clash and butt heads while getting to know each other. Will the hint of love that sprouts over time wilt and die after all the hardships they go through, or will it grow into a proper plant? And where will she go from here?

After three years of marriage, James Chancer’s high school sweetheart came back to town. The same day, Sarah Sanders found divorce papers on her desk from the man she'd given her heart to for the past three years. Outside the courthouse, James poured his heart out to his first love,"I never even touched her in all these years. It's always been you." That was the final straw for Sarah. Writing off their marriage as a complete waste, she dove back into her career and became more successful than ever. That's when everyone finally realized what James had thrown away - Mrs. Chancer wasn't just a pretty face, but a wealthy powerhouse. A true catch in every sense. Three months later, James called her in the dead of night, his voice thick with regret, "Sarah, I made a huge mistake..." All he heard was her drowsy voice, “Zac, who's calling?" The man beside her ended the call with a smile, pulling her closer for a kiss, "Just another spam call, babe."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my husband's childhood sweetheart called, claiming a burst pipe at her home. Without a second thought, he ditched our celebration to play handyman. Moments later, Vivian Duffy's social media lit up with a smug post. [No matter when or where, my Superman arrives at one call. How should I reward him?] Accompanying the post was a photo of scattered condoms and torn clothing on the floor. I forced a smile, picked up my phone, and dialed a number. "My pipe is broken. Care to fix it?"

Nagscroll ako sa reddit ng napadaan ako sa post na naghahanap ng payo. Sabi ng poster na meron siyang HIV pero tinatago ito mula sa kanyang fiancee. Ang post ay merong libong mga like. Naintriga, pinindot ko ito para magbasa pa. Ng dumadaan ako sa mga detalye, napagtanto ko—bakit ang paglalarawan ng fiancee ay pareho ko?

He is the unchallenged Alpha of the Shadow pack. He crushes my hand, lets his true love drive me to the brink, and forces me to lick wolfsbane from my wounds in the punishment chamber, turning me into the pack's laughingstock. I am the Lunar pack's pawn in a political bonding. After enduring three years of humiliation and clutching enemy intelligence, I overturn his throne during the Moon Ceremony, making him watch helplessly as his beloved betrays him and his pack descends into chaos. Later, he backs down. He abdicates as Alpha and gets down on his knees at the pack's border every day, his voice hoarse from shouting, "I was wrong." I hold a blood-stained dagger, my gaze icy as I say, "Your regret is deadlier than wolfsbane and worth even less than my life." Our bonding is a calculated trap, and revenge is the move I am determined to play. Winning him back no longer matters. This time, I am not turning back. I want nothing but his endless remorse and the chance to break my chains and begin a new life.

I was growing up as the much-hated "fake heiress" in a wealthy family, and my life took a devastating turn after my death. My childhood friend who lived next door leaked my nudes online, branding me as manipulative and promiscuous. This ignited public outrage, with strangers celebrating my demise at my family's home. My parents, eager to sever any connection with me, destroyed our mansion that very night, even going so far as to feed my ashes to the dog. Everyone said I deserved it. On the day the true heiress married my childhood friend in a grand, live-streamed wedding, I gave them a unique wedding present from beyond the grave.

I'm the most sought-after makeup artist in horror games. Before each round begins, the bare-faced NPCs sit obediently in a row, waiting for me to work my magic. With my makeup skills, they're twice as intimidating to players, and their performance soars. Even the Demon Boss seeks me out. As I face the Demon Boss with all 16 heads and 32 eyes staring at me, the corner of my mouth twitches. "Sure, I can do your makeup, but it'll cost extra."

My boyfriend tells me he's a monster in a game, but I think he's lying. What monster would have washboard abs and defined obliques? And what monster would keep asking me for hugs and kisses? Everything changes when I end up in a survival game one day. I'm stuck in a dark, cold ocean when the main boss of the game, a scary tentacled monster, entangles me in its grasp. When it speaks, the voice is gentle and familiar. "Kiss me, Ara."

After failing the mission, the System gave me one final chance, and to succeed, I had to give birth to a child. The System promised that if the baby were born safely, it would reveal the truth to my target and give me one last glimmer of hope. However, six months into my pregnancy, just when things seemed stable, I was dragged onto an operating table in the middle of the night by my husband and family. My husband stopped the anesthesiologist from giving me any pain relief. “Let her feel the pain,” he said coldly. “We need to keep the kidneys as fresh as possible.” My parents instructed the doctor to draw my blood. “She’s the same blood type as our precious girl. Let’s take some for backup.” Even my childhood friend, the boy who had always been by my side, was the one to slice open my abdomen.  They wanted my kidneys to save my sister, who was dying from kidney failure. No one believed I was pregnant. No matter how much I begged, they went ahead with the operation, tearing me open. The baby couldn’t survive, and I died on that operating table. However, as my soul began to fade away, something strange happened. Those who had murdered me—my husband, my parents, my so-called friend—they all lost their minds.