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Deandra "Andra" Michaela Anzaldo lost her parents after just the weeks she was born so she was left in the care of her not-so-good aunt. But regardless of that, she still grew up as a kindhearted and hard-working person but the people around her always remind her and always make her feel that she is just a piece of bad luck in their lives and nothing else. An incident happened that made her leave her aunt's house and that also led her to meet and live on one roof with her Hot Teacher – Mr. Francois "Franco" Adrian Del Mundo. Why, out of all the places she could go, she suddenly went to Del Mundo's Mansion? How did she get there? Has everything been easy for her living with her Hot Teacher? Would they grow closer and have feelings for each other? Is Andra willing to risk everything? And what will happen if her schoolmates and other teachers find out that SHE IS LIVING WITH HER HOT TEACHER?                                                            ****** DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, businesses, places, events are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fiction manner. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, or actual event is purely coincidental. WARNING: Please be advised that this story contains sensitive content, mature themes, and strong language that are not suitable for very young audiences. You have been warned. Don't read this book if you're uncomfortable with the above content.                                                             ******

Three years ago, Alicia Brown walked away from the only man who had ever made her feel undone. After a reckless one-night stand with a powerful stranger, she slipped out of his hotel suite, convinced that disappearing was the only way to protect her heart. No names or contact information were exchanged—only a connection so consuming it frightened her. She never imagined fate would bring her back to him. Until she steps into her best friend’s home for the holidays… and comes face-to-face with Rhys Connell. Her best friend’s father. The same man who gave her the most unforgettable night of her life. Wealthy. Controlled. Devastatingly composed. Rhys is a widowed billionaire with a reputation for discipline and emotional restraint, a man who would do anything to protect his daughter. The moment their eyes meet, the past ignites. He remembers the girl who trembled beneath his touch, the girl who vanished without a trace. And the only woman who has haunted him for three years. Now she is under his roof, laughing beside his daughter, and staying in the same house with him. Wanting her once was a secret. Wanting her now is betrayal. But Rhys has never been a man who forgets what belongs to him. And Alicia is about to learn that walking away from him once does not mean she was ever truly free.

In order to take care of my wife, Mildred Dale, who kept going into lunatic episodes thanks to the side effects of a car crash, I spent all of my assets and ten years of my life taking care of her. Whenever Mildred went into an episode, she'd hurl everything she could get her hands on at me. At the same time, she'd scratch every inch of my body with her nails. But when she sobered up, she'd hug me while wailing at the top of her lungs. All of my friends advised me to file for a divorce, yet I'd always remember the fact that Mildred had pushed me from the incoming car and hit her head, resulting in her current condition. But everything changed when Mildred beat me up to the point that I sustained grievous injuries. Heck, my soul was already floating near the ceiling at that time. That was when I saw Mildred arranging her childhood friend Hank Weaver's collar carefully. "Why are you crying? He's already dead. Shouldn't we celebrate this occasion instead? "But my heart breaks for you, Mildred. You've pretended to be a lunatic for ten whole years just to swindle every cent out of his account!" Mildred kissed Hank on the lips. Then, she uttered icily, "I've been enduring that cowardly fool for ten long years. Now, I no longer have to be with him." It turns out that Mildred and Hank had painstakingly staged the car accident just so they could put on such a perfect act. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Mildred is diagnosed with mental health issues.

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

A medical report shows me my husband's true colors. I've been diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. Yet, my husband gives our life savings to someone else. I lunge at him to take my anger out on him, but he shoves me to the floor. "Lillian needs the money to open up a shop, you madwoman! So what if I've given her the money? "You have late-stage stomach cancer, so it's the end of the line for you! Why are you trying to compete with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave? You can't expect Mom and I to lose everything because of you, right?" I sit dazedly on the floor. I've never found him more unfamiliar. After that, I sneak all my wedding gifts out, wanting to sell them for money. However, I'm told they're all fakes. My husband sneers. "I'm glad I had the foresight to switch them out for the real deal. You would've taken all the money if not for that!" Later, the hospital called to say there was an issue with their system. The names on the medical reports were wrongly indicated. I ask my husband, "Why are you competing with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave?"

"Sa paglubog ng araw, ang liwanag ay naglalaho. Katulad ng mga ngiting sa kalungkutan natatago." Si Maureen Cruz ay isang masayahin na tao. Kahit na lumaki siya na hindi nakukuha ang lahat ng kanyang ninanais ay hindi iyon naging dahilan upang hindi yakapin at bigyan ng halaga ang buhay na mayroon siya. Primarya lamang ang kanyang natapos, at hindi na siya nakapag-aral pa dahil sa kahirapan. Gayunpaman, ginamit niya ang lahat ng kanyang mga pinagdaanan upang lumaban ng patas sa hamon ng buhay. Hanggang saan siya susubukin at dadalhin ng kanyang matapang na personalidad kung pag-ibig na ang sumukat sa kanyang dignidad? Mapanindigan kaya niya ang pag-ibig na itinanim nito sa kanyang puso at diwa? Hanggang kailan? Tunghayan ang k’wentong pag-ibig ng isang babaeng magtuturo, kung gaano kaganda ang buhay mula sa likod ng takipsilim. DISCLAIMER: No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the author's consent. Please obtain permission. Names, Characters, Places and Incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ️ WARNING ️ It may contain mature scenes and words. Read at your own risk.

Lisandra is a She Wolf that had been through what has been nothing short of a Living Hell. Having watched her best friend murder her Father in a Pack Challenge to become the Alpha of the largest pack in the Simmerian Forest, she had to endure years of servitude at the hands of the very people who she had thought she could trust the most, and used as bait in a deadly game of chase for the Pack's amusement. It was on one such game that she found her chance of escape from the Alpha that had tormented her for so long. Luckily, (or unluckily) in the course of her attaining the freedom she had yearned so much for, she finds herself in the paws of yet another Alpha. Terren has been called many names through all his life. Bastard, Murderer, Devilspawn, Alpha. To the Lycans in the Simmerian Forest, the very name Silver Wolf is synonymous with The Grim Reaper, and is yet another moniker he has earned for himself for all the dozens of bodies he has ripped to shreds with his fangs and claws. But the moment he locks eyes with the most beautiful pair he ever had the fortune to behold, he realizes that he is about to have yet another name to go by...Mate It was never his intention to mate. In fact, he went out of his way to prevent that exact scenario. But when it does happen, the Terror of the Forest abandons all thought of resisting the bond and wields all of his considerable power to make her his forever.

“Is this true?” I asked. I can’t believe of what I have read on the posts on the social media account of the two writers that I met, Sketch and Doodle. I read again the post of Sketch. I thought of something, not because there will be no update on his story but because of his post however I can’t remember where I read it before. Then, I read what Doodle had posted. I suddenly remember my story and I read the last scene that I wrote; same words, same scenarios and same comments like how I read their posts. I doubt quite a bit but really it amazed me which I don’t know why. That is why I read some of their last few posts and it was quite surreal which leads to a coincidental from the turn of events on what their real life is and on what I wrote. I won’t pay any attention to what is going on because I know it wouldn’t happen. It seems like my suspicion is true… the things that I’m writing is coming true when there are real people that’s involved on my story however I need to investigate this. Sketch wasn’t talking while driving, I can see on Doodle eyes how amazed he is while we travel, seeing a fine nature is really amazing while I seldom talk just to point where we have to move. I noticed Sketch glanced at me. I smiled. “I’m actually kidnapping both of you and you two are willing victim.” Sketch stepped on the breaks and it made a big screech of the car. “What?!” they both asked.

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."