Caption Arab

Cerita ini berkisah tentang seorang pria bernama Kemal Aldino Fawaz seorang pria mapan juga tampan berusia 31 tahun , seorang pimpinan perusahaan keamanan dan telekomunikasi. Kemal yang merasa jenuh dengan kehidupan penuh kamuflase dan segala bentuk kemunafikan disekelilingnya, tanpa sengaja bertemu dengan gafis cantik berhijab yang lumayan jutek dan ceplas ceplos. Pertemuam pertama mereka saat Kemal tanpa sengaja mengotori pakaian Ghania dengan cipratan genangan air di pinggir jalan. Dan pertemuan selanjutnya juga tanpa rencana yang selalu diwarnai dengan perdebatan keduanya. Hingga satu waktu Kemal dibuat untuk berpikir kembali tentang difinisi cinta dan kemandirian dari peristiwa-peristiwa yang melibatkan dirinya juga Ghania. Ghania yang lulusan fakultas psikologi di salah satu universiitas di Arab Saudi, harus menabung banyak rasa sabar dalam menghadapi sikap arogan dan brengsek yang dimiliki Kemal. Juga harus kuat dan berani saat menghadapi sikap permusuhan dari orang-orang disekitar Kemal. Apakah akhirnya Kemal dan Syaqilla berdamai atau malah sebaliknya. Apakah pernikahan akhir dari perjalanan mereka atau sebaliknya.

Wanita muda bernama Nada Azkia, dipaksa menikah dengan pria Arab—seorang pengusaha meubel yang telah memiliki banyak cabang di kotanya. Namun, Nada tidak bersedia menuruti permintaan ibunya karena usia Tuan Abdul, atau nama lengkapnya Abdullah Rashid Athoilah, hampir setara dengan usia ibunya, yaitu 35 tahun. Karena paksaan sang Ibu, akhirnya Nada menyanggupinya dengan syarat jika selama setahun menikah dan tidak memiliki keturunan, maka Nada meminta cerai. Tuan Abdul ini, telah memiliki dua orang istri dan Nada Azkia akan dijadikan istri ketiganya. Namun dari kedua istrinya tersebut, Tuan Abdul belum memiliki keturunan. Maka dari itu Nada meminta syarat seperti di atas. Di cerita ini saya akan menghadirkan bagaimana usaha Nada untuk bisa bercerai dengan Tuan Abdul meski pantang bagi Tuan Abdul menceraikan istri-istrinya. Juga bagaimana kedua istri Tuan Abdul yang justru mendukung Nada untuk bisa bersama dengan Tuan Abdul meski itu hanya trik dan intrik saja demi mendapat kasih sayang dari Tuan Abdul.

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

Menjadi TKW di saat sudah menikah bukanlah hal yang mudah. Ya, aku terpaksa harus merantau ke negri orang untuk memperbaiki perekonomian keluargaku. Setiap bulan tidak pernah apsen kukirimkan uang untuk orang tuaku dan suamiku, Namun siapa sangka, uang yang aku berikan untuk orang tuaku malah dikuras habis oleh suami dan mertua, bahkan orang tuaku sendiri harus bekerja banting tulang untuk menghidupi diri mereka. Begitu banyak kebohongan yang diciptakan oleh orang-orang yang aku sayangi. Tidak hanya suami, mertua dan adik ipar tapi juga sahabatku sendiri. Ia mencuri suamiku. Awalnya aku tidak tahu namun hari itu ia memposting sebuah foto dirinya dengan mertuaku dengan keadaan perutnya yang sudah bunting, pada story itu tidak lupa dibubuhi caption yang menjelaskan bahwa ia berterima kasih pada ibu mertuaku dan mengatakan tidak sabar atas kelahiran bayinya. Aku terkejut bukan main, sedangkan ibu mertuaku hanya memiliki satu anak laki-laki yang tidak lain adalah suamiku, saat itu aku tidak tinggal diam. Langsung saja aku beranjak kembali ke negara asalku untuk membalas penghianatan suami dan sahabatku serta membongkar kebusukan mereka. Lihat bagaimana aku membalskan dendam dan membuat mereka menyesal atas perbuatan mereka.

He Rejected Marking Ceremony, I Upgraded Mate The very first thing I decided to do after being reborn was to reject the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate Ethan. In my previous life, when Ethan tried to postpone our ceremony for the thirty-second time, I threatened him with the sacred laws of the Moon Goddess. Ethan eventually caved. To pacify my rage, he promised that nothing would interrupt us again. But that was the night his Omega mistress Ivy died. From that moment on, Ethan hated me with every fiber of his being. When I told him I was pregnant, he drowned me in the freezing North Sea. "You and that abomination in your belly deserve to die for her," he spat as he held my head under the water. I died in despair. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the altar. Ethan looked impatient. "Selena, Ivy says her chest hurts.. We need to postpone the mark again." He expected me to beg. Instead, I unclasped the ceremonial collar and threw it in his face. "Go to her. I quit." Ethan sneered, "Stop acting. Without my scent, you’ll be back crawling on your knees in a week." He didn't know that an hour later, I was knocking on the door of his mortal enemy—Damon, the Tyrant of the North. When I posted a photo of the Winterborn Alpha’s ring on my finger with the caption "Upgrade my mate," Ethan went mad…

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?"

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."