Diabolical Laughter

When Steven Baxter, the heartthrob of the school, admits that he loves action movies the most, my childhood friend, Lisa Thornton, has my limbs strapped to four huge drones. During the flag-raising ceremony on Monday morning, the drones lift me high up in the air in front of the entire school. The students' laughter is deafeningly loud. The videos they take quickly go viral, too. I only get to return to the surface once the drones finally run out of power and make their descent automatically. With a wide grin on her face, Lisa unties me from the drones. "Steven loves action movies, so we had you cosplay the main character from the most popular Tom Cruise movie. "We grew up together since we were kids, Dominic. Surely you don't mind, right?" As I sit on the ground, Steven pulls Lisa into his arms before he starts guffawing at me. Tears soon streak down his face from all the laughing. "I can't believe you actually peed yourself!" "Ahahahaha!" I get up to my feet and walk away. From then on, I don't return to Lisa's side. But Lisa soon loses her mind. "We've known each other for ten years! Must you really do this to me?"

When Claudia’s mother marries into the powerful family, she gains two affectionate stepbrothers—and one who refuses to even look at her. Damien Mancini is cold, distant, and unreadable, a storm wrapped in silence. No one knows why he seems to despise her on sight… and Claudia is too stubborn, too warm-hearted, to let it go. Raised to love loudly and tease playfully, Claudia makes it her mission to break through Damien’s walls, no matter how often he retreats behind them. What begins as curiosity becomes a challenge. A challenge becomes an obsession. And every time Damien slips—every accidental softness, every moment he protects her before he can think—Claudia feels herself pulling him in closer. Damien tells himself it’s just acceptance, the slow forming of sibling-like affection. But the truth hits harder. It’s not acceptance. It’s craving. The more he fights it, the more he needs her—her voice, her laughter, her attention that burns like sunlight through every crack in his armor. And when he can’t stop himself from treating her differently—too gently, too specially—Claudia realizes the tension between them isn’t fading. It’s spiraling into something neither of them are supposed to feel. In a home built on forced closeness and growing secrets, one thing becomes clear: The line between hate and desire isn’t just thin—it's already been crossed.

Being at the peak of her career allows Celine Princessa to freely pursue her goal; the destruction of Desmond's family. She didn't care about the label that would continue to be attached to her forehead; the home wrecker. All she cared about was that Desmond knew she still existed. "Are you sure you're doing this?" The man's forefinger played on Celine's seductively exposed shoulder. From the reflection of the mirror in front of them, Celine smiled. The model said, "I'm sure. But can I ask for conditions?" The man slightly twisted Celine's body. There was a melodious squeal from Celine's sexy lips full of temptation. also, a crisp laughter that made his heart tremble even more. Desiring. Because it's been a month since they met. He made sure; this room would be full of sighs from both of them. "Whatever you want, Baby." "Turn off your cell phone, Uncle. I don't like your wife calling." The man laughed. "That's it?" "That's all." Unfortunately, Celine had no idea that she was trapped. In a love that burned with passion and also shouldn't exist. Where that feeling made Celine feel alive and no longer empty. How will Celine get through this, when she falls under the spell of a married man and is suddenly selfish about wanting to possess her?

If I will accept his rejection or divorce him, I would do it with dignity. I would prove to him that I was not that weak girl he used to know. I wiped away my tears and said to him in a calm tone. "Okay then... I'm accepting your wish." "What do you mean?" "I want a divorce, Damian." I announced boldly and he suddenly burst into laughter, probably thinking I was joking. But I was not the same person he had met years ago. I am much stronger now. If not for anything but for my unborn kids. "Wait, you're joking right? You can't just divorce me like that" "I, Katerina Clerks, daughter of Alpha Enzo of the Black Stone Pack rejects you, Damian Black, as my mate. I'm severing my mate bond completely with you." I said in a proud and firm tone while looking him straight in the eyes. "What's wrong with you? You don't have the right to reject me as your mate! You have no right to do that! Until I said so, it's not over yet!!!" He burst angrily. I stared at him, hurt by his lack of remorse. I had just caught him with my stepsister, and yet he showed no regret. How could I have fallen for a man like him?

"You're never going to see my worth, are you?" Layla mumbled as tears streamed down her cheeks. "There's hardly any," her husband, Donald pouted mockingly and bursted into laughter, his mistress beside him joined in the jest. "Why not divorce me then?" She blurted. "Because you can't survive without me, you're a charity case, I'm taking pity on you by keeping you here,don't jeopardize that." "What if I can survive without you Donald?" "I'm sure you can't." He laughed. "Should we get a divorce and see then?" The words left Layla's mouth before she could hold it back. ** Layla thought she’d built a forever, despite being aware of her husband's infidelity, she had high hopes for their marriage... until the night of their anniversary, her husband came home late with his mistress and demanded that she slept in the guest room while him and his mistress stayed in their room. That was the moment her world broke, and she finally walked away, returning back to her family's home in London. But fate had other plans for her. Her brother’s best friend, Liam, once a boy she barely noticed, had grown into an insanely attractive young man that she couldn't ignore.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

They say that psychos can never love. But what if a psycho falls in love? It sounds like a joke, doesn't it? But he punishes the people who make fun of his love in front of him. A ticket to hell. He is a psycho, A serial killer, A ruthless ruler, And what else? An Obsessed Lover. His heart decided to beat again, only after seeing her. He was drawn to her not only by her beauty but by her innocence. Because even the devil himself feeds on innocent souls. Her laughter settled in his ear. Her smile gave him breath and her face made his heart beat. Having found the reason to live once again, now he did not want to lose it. Now she had become a means of living for him. Why? Because have we not known from the beginning that love conquers all? Her innocent love conquered his evil but in the midst of all this, she lost her soul. How? Because he snatched it from her. He used his evil ways to get her and that is how he broke her. Injured her. And that was the reason, she could not love him back It was complicated. A pure venom was inflicted by him. In her. It was so toxic that it just made her soul leave her body. His insanity proved fatal. But whatever others say, the feeling was pure. It was naive and that is why it is still called Love.

Amidst the dimly lit room, the tension was palpable as Clyde's vice-like grip closed around Isabella's neck. She struggled to gasp for air, her defiance clear in her eyes. "You are no one for me, do you understand?" Clyde hissed, his fingers digging into her skin. Isabella, her voice trembling but unwavering, met his intense gaze. "And you are the most darkly comedic and nightmarish chapter of my life." Clyde, cruel laughter in his eyes, flung her onto the bed with a brutal force that left her breathless. "Then let's make this chapter even more nightmarish," he taunted, a twisted grin dancing upon his lips. The story takes an electrifying turn when Isabella, longing for a peaceful visit to her grandmother, finds herself back in her home country. However, fate has other plans as Isabella's suitcase, filled with her belongings, gets exchanged with Clyde's bag - full of illicit weapons. Clyde, a dangerous figure entangled in the criminal underworld, cannot allow Isabella to simply walk away after discovering the dangerous secrets within the swapped bag. As the noose tightens, he's left with a limited choices: kill her or hold her captive, forever altering the course of both their lives. Amidst this high-stakes power struggle, a relentless battle for survival and freedom unfolds, painting the pages of this thrilling tale with suspense and danger.

My husband's first love had been trapped in a car for an hour. After they pulled her out, his rage shifted onto me. “It’s your fault she got hurt,” he spat, his eyes blazing as he grabbed me. Before I could make sense of what was happening, he forced me into a wooden box, slamming the lid down with a deafening crack. “You’re going to feel every ounce of the pain she went through,” he hissed, nailing it shut. I pounded on the walls, my screams tearing through the air. “Please, I didn’t do anything! Let me out!” My throat burned with the effort, my fists aching, but nothing stopped him. “Stay in there until you’ve figured out how to act like a decent human being,” he said, his voice cold, dripping with contempt. Hours passed. My body twisted unnaturally in the tight space, bones throbbing as blood smeared the wood beneath me. I whispered into the dark, the pain unbearable. "Please… just let me out…" But he didn’t care. A week later, he returned, his laughter echoing with hers as they entered the house, carefree from their trip. He finally opened the box. But by then, I was already gone. The woman he locked away was no longer breathing, no longer pleading. Just a cold, silent corpse.

“IKAW?” My eyes nearly popped out of my face when I saw him—the mysterious stranger from last night. Is it him? The same man? Parang gusto kong mahimatay. Wehh? Hindi pwede! Impossible! my inner voice screamed, pero ang katawan ko nanginginig na parang nakuryente. Hard f*ck na yata ng buhay ‘to. And suddenly, a memory crashed into me like a tidal wave. That night. That stupid, reckless night. The stolen kisses, the laughter between moans, the way he made me beg—“Wag kang titigil!”—like I’d lose myself if he stopped. I swore I’d never see him again. I swore it was just a one-night stand, a mistake I could bury. But now he’s standing right in front of me. Not just a man. Not just anyone. But the CEO. And worse… the ex-boyfriend who once shattered my heart. His smug grin sent shivers down my spine. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” he said, like fate itself was mocking me. I froze, torn between rage, fear, and something I couldn’t even name. My mind screamed run, but my heart whispered, stay. My world was spinning, and suddenly, every choice felt heavier than ever. Will this be the start of something dangerous… or a responsibility I can’t escape?