Devotion Tagalog With Explanation

Tristan Moreno and I are asked when we're getting married when we attend a class reunion. "We're undecided." "1st of October." Our answers come simultaneously. His head shoots up, and he looks at me with anger and disbelief. I ignore him and explain to my classmates, "I'm getting married on the 1st of October. You're all invited." I know what Tristan wants to ask me. He and I have dated for eight years, but he's never discussed marriage with me. He drags me to a corner, looking furious. "Didn't we agree to put marriage on hold? Do you take pleasure in forcing me into this?" I pry his fingers off my wrist and say, "You can put it on hold for as long as you want. That doesn't stop me from getting married." He's long since gotten bored of me—he's found a younger woman but thinks he's done well in keeping it a secret. Fortunately, he's not the man I'm marrying.

Just as the Garner family teeters on the edge of bankruptcy, Seth Garner's parents come to my doorstep. They beg for a marriage alliance. My father knows I've loved Seth for ten years. So, he pours ten billion into the Garners to save their empire and marries me off to him. On our wedding night, Seth blindfolds me with red silk and takes me again and again with ruthless intensity. A month later, I excitedly bring him the pregnancy report. However, I overhear him at a bar, laughing with his friends. "So, who do you think knocked up Luna?" Laughter erupts. "Seth, don't tell me the child's mine!" "I bet a hundred grand it's his!" That’s when I realize the man in my bed on our wedding night wasn't even Seth. I storm in and demand answers, but he just sneers. "What are you crying for? If your family hadn't threatened me with money and driven Ash away, you think I'd treat you like this? "Let me be clear—the day Ash forgives me is the day I let you go." Dead inside, I ask for a divorce. He responds by threatening me with footage from our wedding night and locking me in the basement. "You're not leaving. You owe Ash, and you'll repay it!" Eight months later, I die in that basement, along with the baby I couldn't deliver. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the Garner family first begs my father for that deal. This time, Seth is the one crying on my wedding day.

Two weeks before my wedding to Alexander Hayes, he invites his friends over to our small home. During dinner, Alexander keeps groping me, whether intentionally or not. After they finish eating, I overhear their conversation as I clear the dishes and walk past the study. "Alex, Lydia's quite something. I touched her earlier, and her skin's so soft. She nearly pulled my soul out. "If you don't mind, let us guys have some fun with her once she pays off the debt for you. We'll help you cover the cost of whatever Kay wants." Alexander chuckles softly, his voice casual and careless. "Sure, I don't mind. I've been sleeping with her for so long, I'm already sick of her anyway. "Just make sure she doesn't rat us out to my grandpa... Actually, forget it. She's blind anyway, so she won't figure it out." For two years, I've devoted myself completely to taking care of Alexander, yet he's ready to throw me into other men's beds, using my body to settle his debts. I stand silently at the doorway, feeling absolutely nothing. Of course, I know that someone else has been replacing him for a year. The person who holds me close night after night isn't him, and the child in my belly isn't his either.

Despite my parents' objections, I stay by Julian Grant's side for ten years. He goes from having nothing to building his own empire. The moment it's time to fulfill our ten-year promise, I proudly tell my parents I'm going to marry him. But then, he gives the vice president position meant for me to another woman. I confront him only to overhear a woman's hesitant voice behind the door. "Mr. Grant... you gave me the VP role, but what about Ms. Jones? Aren't you two getting married?" Julian's tone is cold and sharp, though his face is calm and unaffected. "Noelle's been with me for ten years. Who else would even want her? Relax—she won't dare make a scene." The words hit me like a slap to the face. Without another word, I turn and make a call to my arranged marriage contact. "Are you free?" I ask. "Let's get married."

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.

I'm a succubus who gathers energy by clearing System missions, adept at the game of love. One day, right after completing a honey trap mission, I was sent to a SSS-level horror game at the very next second. The boss was invincible and bloodthirsty, watching coolly as other players rested in pieces before turning to the rest of us. "Now choose—how do you want to die?" While other players were wetting their pants and trying to find a loophole to survive, I picked up on something different. A handsome, powerful target beneath that cold, horrific exterior. Hence, when he reached me, I smiled enigmatically as I told him my wish. "I wish to be conquered by a truly powerful Entity, dominated from soul to flesh, and to die in pure ecstasy." I watched him pause in shock and added, "Oh, and you must do it yourself."

The day Pedro Palmer's mom was supposed to get my kidney, I ghosted. He waited outside the OR for ten hours. What did he get? A death notice. After that, he went full beast mode on his career. Five years later, his company blew up. Media darling. CEO. Power suit. And yeah, he was holding another girl's hand, all smiles for the cameras. "Do you have anything to say to Ruth Rackham? We heard she supported your early days," a reporter asked. Not even a pause. "Yeah. Thanks for vanishing. For letting my mom die with questions. For wrecking me. She taught me not to trust anyone." He stepped in closer, eyes cold. "This is what you wanted, Ruth? Too bad. Love's gone. And you? Not even worth my hate." That's when Nellie Lyon, the reporter, went pale. "Mr. Palmer... Ruth Rackham died five years ago. She was the test subject. She donated her body—before she passed..."

I stayed by William Gavin's side for three years and proposed to him three times. He rejected me each time. With a look of utter disdain, he said, "Every time I see that scar on Whitney Spencer's stomach, I remember the baby that died in there. It just makes me think she's dirty." The words pierced my heart like a knife. And yet, I still asked him to marry me a fourth time.

I fell in love with a cold, taciturn tattoo artist named Henry Kane. So I deliberately damaged my tattoo again and again, picking at the skin and reworking the design, just to see him a few more times. By the third visit for touch-ups, scrolling comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: “I’m dying of laughter. This desperate female lead literally destroyed her freshly tattooed skin just to see the male lead again, and she still didn’t dare confess her feelings.” “Henry Kane is actually the embodiment of an ancient ferocious beast who sat on mountains of gold and silver but refused to spend them, choosing instead to open a tattoo studio to experience mortal life.” “He looks icy and distant, but his possessiveness has long since maxed out.” “He was just afraid his violent nature would scare his woman away.” I looked at the man in front of me, who was lowering his head as he wiped down the tattoo machine, and he did indeed give off an unmistakable keep-your-distance aura. But the comments claimed that he wanted to possess me? “Um… Excuse me?” The man tilted his head slightly, and under the weight of his deep gaze, the confession lodged in my throat. My mind short-circuited, and I blurted out, “I… I wanted to tattoo it on my lower back this time.” In an instant, the comments exploded in joy. “Woohoo! We’re taking off!” “Lower back, you say? That’s a sensitive spot! Can this pure-hearted ferocious beast really hold back?” “Good grief, straight to the undressing scene! This cunning move by the female lead is operating on a whole other level!” The man’s hand gripping the tattoo machine jerked to a sudden stop, and the air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then he answered, his voice slightly hoarse and unreadable, “Alright.”

On my twentieth birthday, my parents placed a stack of photos in front of me—eligible bachelors from elite families all over the country—and told me to pick one for an arranged marriage. I told my dad to leave it to fate and draw lots. In my past life, I had chosen without hesitation the man I’d long admired: Lucas Whitmore, the most eligible bachelor of Astor Hill's elites. But after we got married, I found out the truth. His first love—the girl he had always held dear, Claire Monroe—was devastated by our marriage. One night, heartbroken, she went out drinking and was assaulted by a group of thugs. Claire attempted suicide three times after that. And Lucas blamed it all on me. He handed over my family’s fortune to Claire, draining every last cent from the Meyers. In the end, Lucas even helped her cut the brake lines on our car. My parents and I died in that crash. Now that I’d been given a second chance at life, the name I drew was Liam Morgan—the reclusive heir from Orchard Valley, known for shunning the world and dedicating himself to Buddhism. But when I showed up arm-in-arm with Liam at our engagement party, Lucas lost his mind.