Novel & Cerita Daylight Savings Time Memes

Two men came forward pointing thier guns on Daddy and Bhai. Seeing that, Mom screamed loudly in horror. I wanted to scream too but I had lost my voice with fear especially, when that man's dark orbs were dagered on me. "Wh...what do you all want?! Money? Gold? Anything else....take it...just take it! B....but please... please let them go..." Mom cried out as I just stood thier motionless. I didn't even had the strength to comfort her. Fear was coercing in my veins like blood. "Anything?" The man finally spoke. "Yes!" He looked at me with an amused expression. "Then..." He pointed his gun at me as I was hiding behind my mother shaking like a leaf. "... I'll take this one." My eyes widened. We all looked at him horrified and Mom shielded me behind her. "What's wrong? Didn't you just say I can take anything? Then I'll take your daughter." He winked at me. _______________ Rahina, a simple bubbly girl had it all perfect. A perfect loving family, friends and now a handsome, charming, understanding and gentle fiancé. A perfect man every girl dreams off. All she could think about was being his bride soon and spend the rest of her life with him. But what happens when a mysterious handsome man infiltrates her home suddenly and points his gun at her innocent family kidnapping her in bright daylight? Who is this man? What does he wants? Why is he doing this? Will she be able to fight back to protect her dignity and feelings for her fiancé or...fall deeper into his world, his life and end up falling into something much more dangerous of his..... Love! Dive in to find out....

Eden Taylor thought she knew what heartbreak felt like ... until the day found out her fiancee was having an affair with her sister. Betrayed and broken, she fled the wreckage of her life, searching for peace in the mountains. There, she meets Everett, a man both magnetic and terrifying .. a being who claims to belong to the dark itself. Bound by forces neither of them understand, Eden feels her world shifting the moment they touch. The connection between them awakens something deep within her .. a light he’s been searching for since the dawn of time. Everett is no myth or monster. He is the God of Shadows, cursed to dwell in darkness, unable to move in daylight unless the Goddess of Light accepts him. That goddess, reborn in mortal form, is Eden .. though she doesn’t yet know it. As Everett slowly earns her trust, showing her the truth behind her fractured world, the bond between them deepens into something dangerous .. something divine. But ancient forces stir against them. Wraiths from the void break through the veil, drawn to her light and his defiance. When Eden nearly dies, Everett shatters every rule of their universe to bring her back... binding their souls in ways that neither heaven nor hell can undo. The mortal world believes she vanished for weeks, but she returns changed, her blood humming with the memory of him. Ben, her ex-fiancé, sees only madness... until Everett’s voice tears through the night with a warning that freezes his blood: “Get your fing hands off my light.”* Now, Eden stands between two worlds, the human life that betrayed her and the god who would burn the heavens to protect her. And in the war between light and shadow, love might just be the weapon that changes everything.

Upon my returning from the special ops mission I took on three years ago, I open the door to see my fiancee, Erica Lewis, pregnant and holding a child. "This is your son," she declares as she passes the kid to me. I freeze in shock. My parents chuckle and explain, "You were gone for so long. Erica had to carry on the family name without you, so your older brother decided to help you with it. Isn't that great?" Just like that, I'm forced to be the officiant at the wedding ceremony I spent the last three years eagerly anticipating. I'm expected to stand beside Erica and my brother, Alex Sherman, to watch them exchange wedding rings and to see them kiss each other passionately. They have lied to all our friends and family, claiming that I couldn't have children. They humiliate me in public. They've also spent all of my savings and moved into the villa I bought using the monetary reward I got from the army after completing a deadly mission. Erica and Alex even lie on the bed I'd picked out myself and take intimate photos of themselves to send to me. "Don't be so sensitive. We're just helping you carry on the family name. Our kids are going to call you dad anyway." I give up. "Don't bother. It's over between us, Erica." After that, I call the army on the phone.

My family was supposed to be the richest of the land, yet I had to refund even a cheap delivery. Why? In my previous life, my housekeeper's daughter got her hands on a trading system. Every cent of money I spent would be hers. She started trying to guilt-trip me into donating to all the impoverished students in her school. It was charity anyway, so I signed a check worth 300 grand. The moment I did, that money became part of her savings, and the amount on my check was zero. Everyone called me names, called me a charlatan. Even the boy toy I spent good money on broke up with me. That girl used my money to donate to charities and became the kind and beautiful heiress. She told everyone I was the housekeeper's daughter instead. Furious, I grabbed my black card and started shopping like crazy. I wanted to prove I was the real heiress, but the balance in my account was cleared immediately. That girl then spent 1.2 million right away, like it was one dollar. She scoffed at me. "Don't try to act like you're rich when you're a broke loser. Your mother doesn't make enough as a housekeeper." The Internet decided to hunt me down. I could not handle the stress, and my mind broke. For some reason, my body withered away at a blistering rate. Before my father could save me, I drew my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to that fateful day. The day the housekeeper's daughter made me donate to the school.

My father raised me on one principle: fair exchange. If I wanted anything, I had to earn it myself. Fifty cents for washing the dishes. A dollar for mopping the floor. Five dollars for a perfect score on a test. To buy the pair of white sneakers I had been dreaming of, I spent three months collecting recyclables. In that house, I lived like a pieceworker, paid by the task. It was not until my senior year of high school that everything began to crack. I collapsed during morning study, my body worn down by years of malnutrition. The doctor said I needed better nutrition. My father stood by my hospital bed and started doing the math. "Three hundred for the hospital stay. Two hundred for medication. Chester, this all goes on your tab for the future." I turned my head and saw a boy in a school uniform in the next bed. His father was feeding him spoonfuls of chicken soup, his eyes red with worry. In that moment, the world I had known for 18 years fell apart. It turned out not every child had to earn their parents' love. After I was discharged, I went home and saw the pair of designer sneakers on my brother's feet; it was worth thousands. That was when I finally woke up. I tore up the family photo and, without hesitation, applied to the college farthest from home. Ten years later, my father called me in tears. My brother had taken all his retirement savings, sold the house, and run off with his girlfriend. He was left with nothing. No home. No one. I smiled and tossed him a rag. "Want a place to stay? Sure. It's 50 cents per window. Earn your own rent."

My cousin, Myra Walsh, leaves a voice message in the family group chat in a mean and uncouth manner. "Mom, I'm not meeting that guy who drives a rundown car. One look at him tells me that he's a single pathetic loser." She then kicks my chair. "Hey Sam, that useless piece of shit is a good match for you. Why don't you take my place on the blind date?" I follow Myra's line of sight. There's an old-looking car parked outside, and the owner, Henry Quinton, is currently reclining against the car while smoking. My entire family thinks he's just an ex-convict who has just gotten released from prison and is unable to land a job yet. I'm the only one who knows that's not the truth. Last week, when I was carrying out my internship at a bank, I witnessed the bank manager inviting Henry into the vault. Apparently, the trail of numbers Henry has in his savings is as long as a phone number. After putting on some makeup on my face to make me pure and innocent, I put on an oversized shirt before heading out of the apartment. In the cold wind, I cower slightly from the cold as I hand a thermos flask over to Henry. "Sir, Maya said she's not a match for you, so I'm here in her place." Henry snuffs out his cigarette, his gaze fixing on my flapping hem for three seconds. "Lass, if you want to be with me, you'll have to suffer tremendously in life." "I'm willing to go through anything as long as I get to be with you." That night, Maya flaunts photos of the bag a rich scion has given her. As for me, I've gone over to Henry's apartment.

Honey Mariah Owens thought heartbreak had already taken everything from her. After her boyfriend steals her savings, destroys her dreams, and disappears with another woman, Honey is left drowning in debt, family responsibilities, and a future that suddenly feels impossible to reach. Her once-promising fashion career is gone, her father’s medical bills are piling up, and hope feels like a luxury she can no longer afford. Then one drunken night changes everything. Dragged to a nightclub by her best friend for a reckless “heartbreak cure,” Honey meets Jayson Kingsley—heir to one of the most powerful families in Spring Hills, CEO of Spring Hills Oils. Rich. Dangerous. Infuriatingly handsome. Jayson is completely convinced she is someone else. Nichole Solange Sinclair. The missing daughter of a powerful political family. The woman he was supposed to marry. A woman who looks exactly like Honey. When Jay realizes Honey is not Nichole, he offers her a deal that could save her family and destroy her heart—pretend to be Nichole until the real one is found, and in return, he will give her enough money to change her life forever. One fake identity. One contract marriage. One man she was never supposed to love. But as Honey is pulled deeper into a world of wealth, secrets, and dangerous family expectations, pretending becomes harder… especially when Jay starts falling for the woman behind the lie. And just when Honey begins to believe she might finally deserve happiness, the real Nichole returns. Same face. Same name. Now Honey must decide whether to walk away from the man she loves... or fight for a place in a world that was never meant to be hers. Because some love stories begin with one beautiful mistake.And some are powerful enough to last forever.

I lost my dear son, Henry, to a traffic accident. He had been on his way to one of his part-time jobs. Despite working a lot, my son was still a top scorer on the SATs. “Mom, I don’t want treatment,” he begged with his last breath. “I just want Dad.” In my despair, I called Matthew Foster, my husband, more than one hundred times, but he never answered. We had been married for eighteen years, but one day, he spent all of our savings in order to pay for the treatment of his deceased comrade’s son. That got us into a debt worth one million dollars. To help him pay for it, both Henry I and worked hard to earn money. My son went as far as working five part-time jobs a day! That accident cracked his head open and tore his stomach. He was in urgent need of money for treatment. Since Matthew was not responding, I had to leave Henry’s side to rush to his workplace, where I ended up hearing that he was throwing a party for someone else’s son because he had gotten into a prestigious school. “Mr. Foster gave Zack a seaside mansion, a luxury car, and a limitless black card in hopes that he will succeed in his future studies and have a smooth and healthy life.” As I watched my “poor” husband hug his comrade’s widow and son, I called him for the 101st time. “Henry wants to see you one last time.” “I’m busy right now, Wendy. Be good with Henry and wait a little while longer.” When Matthew hung up impatiently, I put down my phone in silence. I whispered, “Matthew, Henry can no longer wait for you.” At that moment, I decided that I was not going to wait for him anymore either.

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.