Blissfully Popped

Samira looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking. Seeing only calmness, she nodded, desperate to get out of the situation she'd found herself in. "Your performance..." "You want me to sleep with you?" she interrupted, unable to believe her ears. He poked her head gently. "Is that what your little mind keeps telling you? I don't hate the idea of making love to you, but I can't do it without your permission. And that doesn't mean I'm willing to let you go." "Then what do you mean?" He tightened his grip on her waist, causing her thighs to grind against his growing arousal. He groaned loudly, his breath ragged as he palmed her ass cheeks. Her short dress was not helping matters. "I don't love wild women in my bed," he said. Samira knew he was lying. He wanted her to act wild so he could keep her forever. An idea popped into her mind, and she didn’t hesitate to put it into action. "How about we confirm your theory of the ideal woman in the room?"

"Buzz… Buzz…" Alexia's cell phone vibrated as she sniffed then reached out for her phone which was in her side pocket and when she took it out she realized it was an unknown number. She furrowed her eyebrows. "Who in the world is this?" she soliloquized then swiped her thumb across the screen taking the phone to her left ear. "Hello… am I speaking with Alexia Chaney?" A deep male voice came through the phone as Alexia sat upright. "Yes, this Is Alexia Chaney," She clears her throat. "I heard you can play the guitar and I hope you will like a day's job, you will be paid handsomely for it. Are you interested?" said the man again over the phone as Alexia blinked. "Okay, I am interested. What is the occasion and venue?" She asked. "SBE wine corporation will be launching a new wine tomorrow alongside the birthday celebration of the CEO, Richard Robertson, and there will be a night party at his Estate," The man said as Alexia's eyes popped wide open and she parted her lips. She couldn't believe she just accepted an invitation to perform for a man who just wrecked her show. "I will text you the address, first thing in the morning. Get prepared because it is a big party and Richard loves something exceptional," said the man as he hung up.

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

The champagne was flat, much like the expression on Julian’s face. "It’s not that I don’t love you, Elara," he said, adjusting his $5,000 suit jacket. "It’s just that you’ve become... predictable. I need a woman who challenges the world, not someone who waits for me to come home and tell her what color the sky is." Elara felt the sting of the words more than the cold wind on the balcony. For six years, she had been Julian’s shadow. She had curated his life, managed his moods, and dimmed her own light so he could shine brighter. And now, on the night of his company’s gala, he was discarding her like an outdated software update. "Predictable?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Go home, Elara. I’ve already had your things moved to the guest house. We can talk about a settlement in the morning." She didn't wait for the morning. She didn't wait for the "settlement." She walked out into the rain, her silk dress clinging to her skin like a second, cold layer of grief. It wasn't until three days later, sitting in a dingy motel with nothing but a suitcase and a bruised soul, that the notification popped up on her phone. ARE YOU READY TO LIVE FOR YOURSELF? ENTER THE SURVIVAL GAME. WIN YOUR FREEDOM. Elara stared at the golden icon on the screen. It felt like a trap. Or maybe, it was the only way out.

“IKAW?” My eyes nearly popped out of my face when I saw him—the mysterious stranger from last night. Is it him? The same man? Parang gusto kong mahimatay. Wehh? Hindi pwede! Impossible! my inner voice screamed, pero ang katawan ko nanginginig na parang nakuryente. Hard f*ck na yata ng buhay ‘to. And suddenly, a memory crashed into me like a tidal wave. That night. That stupid, reckless night. The stolen kisses, the laughter between moans, the way he made me beg—“Wag kang titigil!”—like I’d lose myself if he stopped. I swore I’d never see him again. I swore it was just a one-night stand, a mistake I could bury. But now he’s standing right in front of me. Not just a man. Not just anyone. But the CEO. And worse… the ex-boyfriend who once shattered my heart. His smug grin sent shivers down my spine. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” he said, like fate itself was mocking me. I froze, torn between rage, fear, and something I couldn’t even name. My mind screamed run, but my heart whispered, stay. My world was spinning, and suddenly, every choice felt heavier than ever. Will this be the start of something dangerous… or a responsibility I can’t escape?

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"

Dying from wolfsbane, I came back six months into carrying his pup. I went straight to a witch, begged for a potion to slow down the pup's growth. Choked it down. Then every day, I padded my belly with rabbit fur and kept up the act. In my first life, Emily and I went into labor on the same day. She popped out a perfect silver-white pup. Me? A white wolf giving birth to some scrappy mutt. James—Alpha of Ebonfang Pack—looked me dead in the eye and swore I betrayed him. I begged him to test the pup's blood. He did. Results came back: father was from an enemy pack. He called me a traitor, said I slept with the enemy, cut the bond, and threw me out. Five years rogue gutted my wolf. Then he showed up again. Guilt all over his face. "Emily got played by a Darkclaw wolf. She's just an omega—she wouldn't have survived going rogue. I had to swap the pups. Didn't you get the supplies I sent? Whatever, it's over. I'll take care of you now." Emily shot me a look full of venom and passed me a teapot. Didn't even get a word out before the wolfsbane kicked in. I died choking, eyes wide, body frozen. But now? I'm back. I know everything. Let's see how they plan to win this time.

At one in the morning, the neighbor upstairs suddenly knocked on my door. He said there was a leak in his apartment and asked if our place had been affected. I was just about to open the door when my vision was flooded with comments. [Open the door, and you're dead! That man outside is not your neighbor!] [Didn't the old man upstairs who lived alone go to Marcasia last week to find his new love interest? There shouldn't be anyone up there at all!] I immediately pulled away from the doorknob. At that moment, an emergency notice popped up in the residential property chat. [Unit 1307 has a burst pipe with severe leakage. Property management will inspect the building's water system.] [Is anyone home in 1207? We need to check whether your ceiling is leaking. Please open the door.] Unit 1207 was my place. The comments flooded my vision again. [What kind of property management does inspections at one in the morning? They're in on it together!] [Bea, stay hidden! Your destined man will descend from the heavens to save you!] I nodded solemnly, as if I was taking them very seriously. I turned around and grabbed my climbing rope. Amid the hysterical screaming of the comments, I leapt straight off the balcony. I'm someone who got a second life. Last time around, my entire life was ruined by listening to these brain-dead comments. This time, I'd rather die from the fall than end up as a breeding machine again.

During the holiday break, my wife, Jayda Glover—the hospital's star surgeon and Chief of Cardiac Surgery—suddenly "had to work overtime." Our third-anniversary hot springs trip? Canceled. That night, I was scrolling social media when a post from her intern, Dillon Tripp, popped up. My ice-queen wife always said her "golden hands" were only for patients. Apparently, they cook now too. She was in a cartoon apron, calmly chopping vegetables. The caption read: [Thank you, Dr. Glover, for personally cooking to comfort me after I was bullied by a patient's family!] I tapped like and left a comment. [White coat to apron. Very domestic.] Ten minutes later, the whole hospital knew Cardiac Surgery's untouchable beauty had broken her rule—just to cook for a younger guy. Jayda called. Dishes clattered in the background. "You really had to embarrass me in public? He got hot water thrown on him by a patient's family today. I was just doing my duty as his mentor! "A pampered professor's kid like you wouldn't know the first thing about how hard broke med students have it. "Apologize to Dillon right now. Otherwise, no matter how much you beg later, I'm not going on that trip with you!" Beg her? I looked at the divorce papers that had just arrived on the coffee table and let out a quiet laugh. I wasn't begging anymore. From this moment on, we were strangers.

Nelson Smith has been struggling for survival due to kidney failure. Without a transplant, he has less than four months to live. No one in his family matched after tests were done. Not even his siblings, parents or cousins, except for one person, Janice Capuno, his wife. Janice used to be the darling of a wealthy Dynasty, until she hid her identity and married the man she loves, Nelson Smith, against her parent's wishes. Instead of getting love, she was treated like a servant by her mother-in-law, mocked as a gold-digger by her sister in-law, but for her husband, his love towards her remained unshakable. He'd never ceased defending and protecting her from his family, that's why when the doctors confirmed her to be a match, she didn't hesitate to get herself cut open to save Nelson's life. **** There was barely thirty minutes to the surgery, and Janice was already in her hospital gown, waiting to get cut and her kidney given out to save her husband's life, when the reality of everything she had believed in came changing in her eyes. "Babe....my phone...switch it off...battery." Nelson pointed to his bag weakly before the sedative took full action on him. Just before she'll put the phone off, a WhatsApp notification suddenly popped up. It was from Tricia, his University ex-girlfriend. "Baby, has the fool gone into the theatre yet? I can't wait for this to be over. Once you get the kidney, we're done with her." The message read. Want to know what happened next?