Did I Permit Your Remarriage

As an avid fan of the well - known Filipino singer-songwriter, actor, and model Michael Hugh Perez, Hera Ashley couldn't resists his charm the first time she met him in person. To what extent will she express her love and adoration? What if she's just confused admiration with love? When the table turned, it was only then she realized her true love for her friend Zanjoe.. her blanket, her umbrella and savior. Before she knew it, he was already gone. Is it too late then?

when Olivia's fiancé walked out of their wedding for another woman she ran into the pouring rain in her wedding dress💔... Her bf's Alpha brother took her home. "I make the rule, dear.Just say yes. l would bury him six feet beneath the ground. In Pieces."

His sickness grew worst as his health deteriorated. Han Manuel knew he wasn't going to live much longer and after much denial, he decided to accept his horrid fate. But he found love in the weirdest of girls but prettiest of them all. She gave him hope and a thousand and one reasons to live again. A story of two hearts from two different worlds, joined together by love and destiny....

“There's this thing when you meet a person but all you feel is hate even though he didn't do anything to you.” Maybe that’s what JR feels for Gerard. Once the other man saw Gerard’s face, all it takes is a second from a face devoid of any emotion to scowling one when JR lays his eyes on him. Imbes tuloy na matuwa si Gerard na nakita na niya sa wakas ang matagal na niyang hinahanap na matalik na kaibigan noong mga bata pa sila, nawala ang saya na iyon nang maramdaman niya ang pagkadisgusto ni JR sa kanya kahit wala naman siyang ginagawa rito. Hindi na siya umamin at ang pag-aasam na maging kaibigan ito muli ay nauwi sa wala. But why after years of not seeing each other, John Raven suddenly wants to be friends with him again? Why was the other hell bent on making up with him? Naaalala na ba siya nito o may mas malalim pang dahilan ang paglapit ni JR sa kanya?

When Isabel is thrown to the side like she doesn't matter, she's broken. Not only is the only man she has ever loved dumping her for his comatose bride, she's also pregnant. For four years, she disappears and plots her revenge. Now, she's back.

“Wendy, are you absolutely sure you want to sign this document?” The Elder’s voice rang in my ears—cold, distant. “Once your bond with Alpha John is dissolved, you’ll lose everything tied to the Blackthorn Pack.” I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned white. “Yes. I’m sure.” But just as the tip touched the paper— BANG! The door was kicked open with a violent crash. Alpha John stormed in, eyes bloodshot, and wrapped his hand around my throat. “You dare?!” Blood slipped from the corner of my lips… but I laughed. Because I knew—he would never discover the truth. That his dear uncle, Alpha Vincent, was hiding in my closet at this very moment. And the fresh bite mark on my lower belly… still burned from last night. As if fate was mocking me, my sweet little sister Penny sent a message right then: “Sis, wanna know a secret? That miscarriage you had? John planned it. He made it happen.” Then the TV flickered to life with a breaking live broadcast— There she was, Penny, gently stroking her swollen belly as she smiled into the camera. “John and I are expecting our baby next month,” she announced proudly to the entire Pack. And Alpha John—my “husband”—stood beside her, lovingly kissing her forehead. Like I never existed. Like I wasn’t the Luna written in law. “Miranda,” my wolf snarled in my head, “Rip those traitors apart—now!” But I didn’t. I wiped the blood from my mouth, and dialed the number I hadn’t called in five long years. “Vincent,” I said calmly, “Come get me.”

Eterfinite leave the Green Valley, left behind his mediocre life of meditation. With his aura of those of transcend being; a saint; a flowless woman, and only knows the kindness of the world which he show through his words, every sect gather to recruite him. They gives him the power over the reformation of the world. Strangely the world really in the ruin, the Villagers fear their life every now and then. Thus, Eterfinite can only accept being the disciple so close to the Villagers, and the reformation of the world begun, with his every presence united everyone to do the process and plan, it goes smoothly and grandeur. What he didn't realize though, the reformation is only the beginning. Surround the Village, a howl of a bizzare creatures fill the Villagers in a tremendous of fear. However, Eterfinite begun to tremble, his heart beat crazily, and he felt the presence so close yet so far. The husky voice, the softness accompanied in it, it filled Eterfinite a feeling of familiarity. It is...coming inside his head.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.

“Miss Green, the results show that you have late-stage pancreatic cancer. The situation isn’t good for you. If you give up on treatment, you might have less than a month left. Are you sure you don’t want to receive treatment? Will your husband agree to it?” “I’m sure that… he will.” After I hung up, I surveyed the empty house and felt sadness fill every fiber of my heart. I had thought that the pain I felt was due to my dear old friend, gastritis, but it was cancer. I sighed and looked at the picture on the table. The eighteen-year-old Zach Stone stared at me in the photo. It had been years since, but I still remembered how the snow had fallen on my hair. At that time, Zach had smiled and asked whether this counted as us growing old together.