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Sorry, pero Hindi Ikaw Ang Groom Ko

Sorry, pero Hindi Ikaw Ang Groom Ko

Isang video ng boyfriend ko na nagpo-propose sa kanyang secretary ang nag-trending. Lahat ay kilig na kilig at sinasabing napaka-romantic at nakakaantig ang eksena. Nag-post pa mismo ang secretary niya sa social media: "Matagal kitang hinintay, at buti na lang hindi ako sumuko. Ipagkakatiwala ko ang buhay ko sayo, Mr. Emerson." Isa sa mga komento ang nagsabi: "Diyos ko, sobrang sweet nito! CEO at secretary—bagay na bagay sila!" Hindi ako umiyak o nag-eskandalo. Sa halip, tahimik kong isinara ang webpage at hinarap ang nobyo ko para humingi ng paliwanag. Doon ko siya narinig na nakikipag-usap sa mga kaibigan niya. "Wala akong choice. Mapipilitan siyang pakasalan ang isang taong hindi niya mahal kung hindi ko siya tinulungan." "Eh si Vicky? Siya ang totoong girlfriend mo. Hindi ka ba natatakot na magalit siya?" "Eh ano naman kung magalit siya? Pitong taon na kaming magkasama—hindi niya ako kayang iwan." Sa huli, ikinasal ako sa parehong araw ng kasal nila. Nang magkasalubong ang aming mga sasakyan, nagpalitan kami ng bouquet ng kanyang secretary. Nang makita niya ako, labis siyang nasaktan at humagulgol.
Short Story · Romance
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Breaking the Bond That Broke Me

Breaking the Bond That Broke Me

I gave everything to save my fated mate, Alpha Austen. I even lost our pups. Twice. But he gave all the credit to his adoptive sister, Seraphina. He called me weak. Useless. He always chose her tears over my scars. He even stood by as her poison shattered my wolf spirit. As I lay dying, I watched him hold my killer and whisper, “I know it wasn’t your fault. This was her fate.” Then I opened my eyes. And I was back. Back before it all went wrong. This time, I’m done explaining. Done sacrificing. Right in front of him, I disguised a potion that would sever our mate bond as a "blessing elixir" and held it to his lips. “My love,” I said, “drink this. It’ll help you comfort your poor little sister.” He drank it without a second thought. In thirty days, under the Blood Moon, our mate bond will be severed for good. But only when I was truly gone did he finally regret it. He knelt before me, again and again, calling himself my fated mate. Begging me to take him back.
Short Story · Werewolf
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My Mate Lost His Memory, I Chose Another Alpha

My Mate Lost His Memory, I Chose Another Alpha

Everyone in the pack knew that my mate Damien loved me fiercely. After our mating ceremony, Damien gave me three bonding gifts. The first was a protective amulet he'd prayed three days and three nights for at the Moon Goddess shrine. The second was a sculpture he spent months carving with his own hands. The third was a diamond ring — the symbol of the Luna — priceless, and with it came the authority to govern the pack. On my birthday, he went searching for a moonstone and was ambushed by rogue wolves. He fell off a cliff. When he woke, his memory was gone. A bar hostess had rescued him. They fell in love. But the day before their mating ceremony, his memories returned, and he came back to me without hesitation. Just when I thought he'd ended things with her, on the very day I found out I was pregnant, I received a video — an intimate recording of the two of them together. Vivian was already carrying his child, nestled against Damien like a helpless little bird. "You're carrying my child. I won't abandon you. As for Elena — a few sweet words and she'll do whatever I say." I turned off my phone and sent a mind-link to my father. "Dad. The arranged mating you set up for me — I accept."
Short Story · Werewolf
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Erasing Mrs. Moretti

Erasing Mrs. Moretti

Five years into my marriage to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Outfit, the entire underworld knew he loved me more than life itself. He’d had a violin—for me—tattooed right next to his family crest, a symbol of loyalty that could never be erased. Until I got the photo from his mistress. A cocktail waitress, sprawled naked in his arms, her skin marred by the dark bruises of rough sex. She had scrawled her name right next to the violin he’d gotten for me. And my husband had let her. "Dante says only being inside me makes him feel like a man anymore. You can’t even get him hard anymore, can you, sweet Alessia? Maybe it’s time to step aside." I didn't reply. I just made a single call. “I need a new identity. And a plane ticket out.”
Short Story · Mafia
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My Alpha Cheated On Me with His Sister

My Alpha Cheated On Me with His Sister

Damian, my destined partner, is the alpha that all wolf girls dream of. For him, I went alone to the North, his pack. But for three years after we signed the contract, he remained chaste, staying at least three feet away from me, refusing to mate with me. I thought he was just busy with the affairs of the wolf pack and had no time to care about me. Until I stumbled upon Damian pinning Lyra, his sister, against a rough tree trunk, his mouth savagely devouring her lips like a wild beast. "You know I long for you, Lyra!" he roared. "Why did you force that boring Selena on me?!" At last I understood. The only person he truly loved was Lyra. He hurt me again and again for Lyra, and even when we were trapped in the forest and almost swallowed by the shadow plague, he ran away with Lyra in his arms without looking back. "Whether Selena can escape or not has nothing to do with me. You are the most important person in my world!" I was heartbroken, but he wanted to complete the final mark with me because of guilt. He didn't know that I had already dripped my heart's blood on the moonstone the day I found out about his affair with Lyra. Our mate bond had been completely broken long ago.
Short Story · Werewolf
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The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real

The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.
Short Story · Mafia
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Your Honor, I'm Back

Your Honor, I'm Back

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"
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In His Shadow, in His Bed

In His Shadow, in His Bed

For eight years, I was the ghost in Lorenzo Valenti's empire. By day, I was his executive assistant, the engine of his criminal enterprise. By night, I was the most submissive bird in his gilded cage, and the nameless body in his bed. I loved him with a devotion that bordered on madness, a foolish flame I'd nurtured since I was a scholarship student pulled into his orbit. I believed my quiet love could one day melt the ice around his heart. I was wrong. The day his unforgettable first love, Isabella, returned, the man I knew vanished. The rare smiles once reserved for me were now all for her. My presence by his side was erased, replaced by hers. Even when she framed me, he believed her without hesitation. He chose her, again and again. I submitted my resignation. He signed it without looking. He thought I'd crawl back, broken and begging. He was wrong. While he was busy playing house with his "cuore mio", I was quietly packing away my life, preparing to vanish from his world forever.
Short Story · Mafia
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The Madre Strikes Back

The Madre Strikes Back

The Underboss, Gio Rocco, told me that during yesterday's hit by a rival clan, my husband, Don Domenico De Luca, and his secretary were caught together in a compromising situation. When our men broke in, the secretary had barely managed to put her clothes back on. I don't want to believe it, but when I enter the conference room and see the delicate, helpless woman in Domenico's arms, it suddenly seems laughable. Anger surges through me, and I storm up to Domenico. He instinctively steps in front of the woman, shielding her. I press my gun against his forehead. "Domenico, let's get a divorce," I say coldly.
Short Story · Mafia
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My Sister Schemed to Put Me in an Older Man's Bed

My Sister Schemed to Put Me in an Older Man's Bed

She coveted everything about me. My possessions, my experiences, and even my men. So one night, my mother pushed me into an older man's bedroom. The next day, she asked with a smug smile, "Nina, how was your night with the older guy?" I rubbed my sore waist, recalling his broad shoulders, long legs, and trim waist from the night before. I smiled as I answered her. "That fiancé of mine is all yours now. Just remember—I’ll be your Aunt-in-law in the future.”
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