Buy A Bullet

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

Sofia Cruz is a loving granddaughter and sister to her family; she worked hard in their province to give them a comfortable life. But she left her place because she was promised to have a better job in Manila. However, what she didn't know, she was only tricked by the person who recruited her and turned out to be sold to a businessman who owned a bar. When she entered the bar, there she met Howard, the man who was willing to buy her for three million pesos just for a night. Will she agree? Or she will reject the man's offer. Aside from that magkakaroon sila ng kasunduan hanggang nasa poder siya nito hindi siya pwedeng lumabag sa mga kasunduan nito isa na dito ang bawal siyang ma in-love sa lalaki. Kaso dumating ang araw na unti-unting mahuhulog siya sa lalaki kaya lilisanin niya ang Mansyon at magpapakalayo layo. Sa pagbabalik niya malalaman ng lalaki na nagkaroon pala sila ng anak at malalaman nito ang tunay na dahilan nang pag-alis niya.. May pag-asa pa bang maging masaya ang dalawa na nagsimula sa isang kasunduan lamang..

Henry Rosales has three rules in life: work hard, save every peso, and keep his bedridden mother alive. He doesn't care about luxury, fashion, or fame. So when he accidentally becomes a human shield for Veronica Lores—the ruthless "Ice Queen" of the fashion industry—he isn't trying to be a hero. He just wanted to save her expensive suit because he couldn't afford to pay for the dry cleaning. ​Amused by his pragmatism and desperate for a loyal protector, Veronica hires him on the spot. The offer? A salary that could solve all his problems. The condition? He must belong to her—exclusively. ​But Henry is dense. He thinks "exclusive" means no moonlighting as a delivery rider. He doesn't realize that he has just walked into a war zone. Not only does he have to protect Veronica from corporate saboteurs, but he also has to survive the aggressive flirting of her rival, the fashion diva Anastasia Altino. ​Caught between a boss who claims him as property and a rival who wants to buy him with a Ferrari, Henry only has one question: ​"Ma'am, does this job come with a rice subsidy and 13th-month pay?"

Ethan Hale never thought desperation would drive him here. He was suffering from a failed engagement, rent was overdue and his pride was hanging by a thread when the discreet contract landed in his lap. A year of surrender to a man who can buy and break anyone? Insanity. Dominic Blackwell isn’t just anyone. He’s ruthless. He’s magnetic. He’s a billionaire with a hunger for control that borders on obsession. And he wants Ethan… body, mind, and soul. What begins as a business arrangement quickly turns into something darker, something Ethan swore he wasn’t capable of craving. Every touch leaves him raw, every command strips him bare, and every night pushes him deeper into a world where pain and pleasure blur until he can’t tell the difference. Ethan told himself he was straight. He told himself this was just about money. But Dominic has a way of dragging out the parts of Ethan he never dared to face: the fantasies, the submission, the need to be owned. One year. That’s all Ethan agreed to. But in Dominic’s arms, rules are broken, lines are crossed, and one year might not be enough to survive…or to let go.

Sheila and Kane had been together for five years. For half a decade, she believed the only reason he wouldn't marry her was that he was too poor. To build a future for them, she worked herself to the bone, saving every penny just to afford a home of their own. That was until she discovered his secret: Kane was no pauper. He was the "Crown Prince" of a corporate empire, adored by everyone. The only "hardship" he had ever endured was eating instant noodles with her and wearing the "cheap rags" she had scraped together her savings to buy for him. He refused to marry her for one reason only: she wasn't high-born enough to match his status. Sheila cut ties decisively. But after the breakup, a twist of fate led her into the bed of her boss, Killian Ford. Everyone believed Killian was a cold, abstinent man who kept women at arm's length. Only Sheila knew the truth—behind that stoic mask was a cunning, possessive man with a hidden, scorching passion. Night after night of relentless obsession... Sheila finally realized that the longest game she had ever played, and the deepest trap she had ever fallen into, was the one Killian had set for her.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

After the young officer Edward Shaw took first place in a high-profile shooting exhibition attended by senior officials, his family adopted a rather peculiar tradition. At the annual family banquet, he would perform a blindfolded shooting. Whichever woman's token his bullet struck was taken as a sign that she would become his fiancée. Determined to marry him, I placed the handkerchief I had carefully chosen as close to him as possible. Yet, for three consecutive years, his shots hit nothing at all. I told myself the handkerchief must have been too light, too easy to miss. So each year, I replaced it with something more refined, more eye-catching than before. That illusion lasted until the night before my eighteenth birthday, when I happened to overhear him speaking with a friend at a reception. "Miss Jasmine's handkerchief is right in front. Even blindfolded, you should be able to hit it. How do you keep missing every year?" Edward swirled his glass, his tone casual. "Tracy's still young. The moment she hears I'm getting engaged, she starts crying. "I promised I'd wait until she's a little older. As for Jasmine, she's waited for me all these years. It's not like she's going anywhere." With that, he casually tossed his glass into a metal bucket in the corner. It rang out with a sharp, hollow clang. I lowered my gaze and thought of my younger sister, only a year younger than me. So it had never been about the token. It was about the person who placed it there. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on. After all, my father had already arranged a marriage for me. Three days later, at that same family banquet, I would be formally engaged.

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

The moment my best friend, Patrick York, rushed ahead of me into the convenience store and asked for a lottery ticket with that specific string of numbers, I knew he was in the same boat as me. We were reborn. In the past life, Patrick and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Fortune 500 company, but there was only one opening. The day before the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket. However, because of that, I missed the interview and Patrick got hired. Surprisingly, I got the winning ticket and won 50 million dollars. After my graduation, I enjoyed an easy life by living off interest from the bank. Meanwhile, despite getting hired, Patrick was paid a low wage and suffered daily abuse from his colleagues. In the end, he took out his frustrations on me by pushing me off the rooftop, killing me on the spot. After my death, my girlfriend, Emily Hayward, committed perjury for his sake. She claimed that after a prolonged period of staying home with nothing to do, I was in a bad mental state and leaped off on my own. The two of them profited off my death and became trending influencers, making it big. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back to the day I purchased the lottery ticket.

After I refused for the eighth time to give my daughter a monthly allowance of $80, she went live online to denounce me. During the broadcast, she shared screenshots of our messages, showing how she had repeatedly and desperately asked me for money after the new school term began. "Mom, I just got my period. I do not have money to buy sanitary pads. Could you send me this month's allowance?" I replied calmly, "No." "Mom, I have not eaten in three days. I am really hungry." I responded with sarcasm. "What does that have to do with me?" The screen quickly filled with comments calling me suffocatingly cruel and heartless. Looking straight into the camera, she sobbed uncontrollably. "Mom, I am not asking for much. I only need $80 a month for living expenses. "Do you really have to push me to death before you feel satisfied?" Within a short time, I became the target of widespread online abuse. A well-known education influencer reached out to me. "It is only $80. It is not something you cannot afford. Why are you treating your own daughter so harshly?" I looked at her calmly. "Try livestreaming seven days of life with me and my daughter. "If you can do that, you'll understand."