Call Of Chernobyl Monolith

Sepandai-pandainya tupai melompat, akhirnya jatuh ke tanah juga. Begitu juga dengan kebohongan, suatu saat pasti akan terbongkar, dan gara-gara lupa mematikan video call, penghianatan Rudi terbongkar. Bagaimana Ambar mengatasi masalahnya? Kuy, ikuti kisahnya.

Bethany thought she had escaped her marriage from her ex-husband, the wealthiest man in the city, Fred Hart but love never wades. Fred comes back in her life to disrupt what ever is going on in her life to remind her that " She is forever going to be his" But is Beth going to come back to him? After what he has done and taken from her life? Is there a chance of redemption? Find out more

She: "10,000,000＄. We're done. Just don’t let my husband find out." The call boy took the black card, frowning. She: "Not enough? You're good, but don’t push it." He dressed, leaving behind a cold warning—"You'll regret this😡!" A week later, she knelt before the Lycan King🐺, begging for a divorce ruling. And there he was. Her call boy. Sitting on the throne. He: "(Smirking) Uh-huh😈?"

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

I was a writer. I rented a place in the countryside to seek inspiration. The villagers said it was a haunted house. Twenty years ago, a mad woman murdered her daughter by piercing a needle into her skull! I did not believe it, but I got a call from a little girl that night. She said it was 2002, and her mother was trying to kill her!

The buzzing of my phone in the middle of the night jolted me awake. On the other end of the line came a voice I could never forget. It was my daughter! However, she died three years ago!

Back when I was 15, I gave my extraordinary luck to Whitney Johnson. Six months later, her wealthy parents showed up at the orphanage and took her home. At 18, I stopped her from dating the school heartthrob, who later died in a car accident. Whitney blamed me for his death. She tore up my admission ticket for college entrance exam, made me miss the test, and completely ruined my life. I ended up homeless, yet it wasn't enough for her. She pushed me into the river and drowned me. Now, as I open my eyes, I realize I've been reborn and returned to when I was 18. This time, I'll never give her my extraordinary luck again.

Umalis si Elizabeth sa marangyang buhay sa Maynila upang takasan ang isang sapilitang kasunduan—ang pag-date kay Greg, anak ng pinakamayamang negosyante sa lungsod. Sa pagtakbo palayo, hindi inaasahang masisira ang kanyang kotse sa gitna ng isang liblib na lugar. Isang misteryosong lalaki ang dumaan at tumulong sa kanya. Tall, dark, and handsome—isang "prince charming" sa tunay na buhay. Pero hindi niya nakuha ang pangalan nito. Pagdating sa probinsya, ibinahagi niya ang kwento sa kanyang kaibigang si Monique, na agad nilang tinawag ang lalaki bilang "Prince Charming." Ngunit gumuho ang mundo ni Elizabeth nang mapagtanto niyang ang lalaking ito… ay walang iba kundi si Benedict—ang ama ng kanyang kaibigan. Isang single dad na hindi rin inakalang ang babaeng tinulungan niya sa kalsada ay ang magiging dahilan ng muling pagtibok ng kanyang puso. Handa ba si Elizabeth na mahalin ang lalaking hindi niya dapat ibigin? At kaya ba niyang ipaglaban ang damdaming maaaring sirain ang pagkakaibigan nila ni Monique?

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my cheeks burn as I dodge my husband, Ethan Grant, leaning in for a hungry kiss. I push him toward the nightstand for a rubber. What he doesn't know is that I've tucked a surprise in there, a positive pregnancy test. I can already see it, the way his whole face will light up the second he finds it. But the moment his hand goes for the drawer, his phone goes off. His best friend, Henry Miller, comes on the line in Danish. "Mr. Grant, how was last night? That new love couch our company rolled out is treating you okay?" Ethan lets out a low laugh and answers in Danish, "The massage feature's great. Saves me from having to rub Sandy's back myself." He still has me pulled tight against him, but his eyes look straight through me, like he's seeing someone else. "This stays between us. If my wife ever finds out I slept with her sister, I'm done." It feels like someone just put a knife through my chest. What they don't know is that I minored in Danish in college, so I catch every single word. I force myself to stay calm, but the arms I have looped around Ethan's neck won't stop shaking. At that moment, I stop hesitating and decide I'll take the offer from that international research project. Three days from now, I'll be gone from Ethan's world for good.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.