Dinner Tagalog Novels & Stories

After half a month of nonstop overtime, I secured a contract worth over ten million, pulling the company back from the brink of collapse. My boss, Richard Gray, was overjoyed. At the celebration party, he called me the pillar of the company and announced that he would reward me with a bonus. However, when the end of the month came, and I opened my payslip, I froze. Negative 250 dollars. A negative commission? I actually owed the company 250 dollars? I immediately called the finance department, asking if there was a mistake on my payslip. They replied, "No mistake. This is the cost calculation formula that Mr. Gray personally instructed us to use. He said you'd understand once you saw it." I went straight to Richard for an explanation. He laughed. "The contract that you signed, after factoring in the concessions, upfront resources, and hidden expenses, left the company with a net loss of 150 thousand. Since the loss was due to your personal decisions, you're responsible for five percent. That totals to 7500. "Considering how hard you worked, we deducted it from your base salary first. But your salary wasn't enough, so you still owe the company 250. Don't worry. The company treats its employees well. We'll write that off." Soon after, he awarded 100 thousand dollars to the newly arrived intern. I watched the newcomer, probably connected to Richard, cheerfully treat the entire company to dinner with her bonus, and something inside me just snapped. From that day onward, I did the bare minimum. I clocked in. I clocked out. Nothing more. Later, when a critical project went catastrophically wrong and the company faced a colossal compensation demand, Richard came begging me to fix it. I just smiled and said, "Sorry, Mr. Gray. I've already resigned. If there are any problems, you can ask the intern who got the 100 thousand dollar bonus to handle it."

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.

I slide into the bath and let my muscles melt. My mind drifts—back to dinner, the city skyline glittering behind Tommy’s head. I close my eyes, biting my lip. One hand trails beneath the water, slow and lazy. I don’t mean to. But it’s all still so fresh—the way his hands felt on my skin, how deeply he— Except, it’s not Tommy I’m imagining anymore. It’s the doctor. Suddenly, it’s his fingers I’m imagining spreading me open. That cool composure cracking as he groans my name into my neck. “Oh, fuck,” I moan, breath catching as the orgasm rips through me like a shot of white lightning. My back arches against the porcelain. Water sloshes. “Dr. Cole,” I gasp before I can stop it. And then I freeze. What. The. Hell. **************************************************** He’s her gynecologist. Her client. And her boyfriend’s father. What could possibly go wrong? Beth thought dating Tommy was the start of something stable. Sure, he was cocky and impulsive—but charming, right? Until the red flags started piling up. The gambling. The secrets. The mood swings. The way he always blamed her when things went wrong. But then she meets his father. Dr. Stacy Cole. Silver fox. Calm. Collected. Everything Tommy wasn’t. And she already know him. He’s her OB/GYN. Her firm’s newest client. And the man who makes her body betray her every time he’s near. Beth knows she should stay away. But when Tommy starts spiraling and Stacy starts looking less like a boundary and more like a lifeline… she’s forced to face a terrifying truth: She might be falling for the one man who could destroy everything. Taboo. Addictive. Slow burning. Emotionally dangerous. This isn’t your average age-gap romance.

Peter's eyes pleaded. "I'm sorry for what I did, but—" Dominic cut him off. "If I had not married your daughter, you would have fallen here in pieces by now." Peter's voice barely audible. "I'm sorry..." Just then, the office door swung open. Valerie's soft voice interrupted the tense scene. "Dinner is ready." Every head turned towards the door. Valerie's eyes widened as she took in the room's atmosphere. "Dad?" Dominic's expression remained stern, but a flicker of warning flashed in his eyes. He nodded subtly at Kael. Kael strode towards Valerie, his movements fluid. "Vel, let's go." Valerie's voice trembled as she asked Kael, "What's going on? Why is Dad kneeling there?" Kael's expression softened, but his eyes remained guarded. He offered a gentle smile. "You don't need to worry about him, Valerie." Valerie's concern deepened. "But what's happening?" Kael's tone turned cold. "Anyway, that man doesn't deserve anyone's concern." Valerie's eyes widened. "That man is my father." Kael's jaw clenched. "That man was neither a good father nor an honest man. He's getting what he deserves." Suddenly, the sound of a bullet firing cracked through the air. Valerie's eyes went wide, and she took a step forward, but Kael grasped her hand, holding her back. "Don't go there, Valerie," Kael warned, his voice low and urgent. "The boss is very pissed off right now. It's not safe." Tears welled up in Valerie's eyes, spilling down her cheeks. "He was my father," she whispered. Valerie, wife of mafia king Dominic, faces danger when Viktor, seeking revenge, targets her and their unborn child. Despite Arthur's protection, Valerie is kidnapped and brutally attacked by Viktor, resulting in the loss of her child. The tragedy unleashes Dominic's darker side, transforming him into a heartless and cruel leader, driven by vengeance.

I'm afflicted with a severe phobia related to socializing. Christmas is the one holiday that I fear the most. In order to escape from my relatives' incessant questions, I've spent one year digging up dirty laundry related to every single person in my family. Before going home for the holidays, I've made a secret vow that as long as my relatives don't disturb me, I will definitely keep those skeletons of theirs sealed tightly in their closets. But at the Christmas Eve dinner, these relatives insist on making me their personal doormat. My oldest uncle, Adam Burton, is the first one to start a topic in a passive-aggressive manner. "Hannah, you're not getting any younger, you know. It's one thing to not be able to nail down a job, but what's with your inability to find yourself a boyfriend, hmm? "Look at Quinn. The moment she'd graduated from college, she'd already married a rich scion." I can only smile bashfully before I lower my head and start eating from my plate in an attempt to skip the topic. But my second aunt, Zoe Brown, refuses to let it slide. She begins putting on airs as a senior member of this family while lecturing me. "Stop being so stubborn, Hannah. Adam is doing this for your own good. We're a family at the end of the day; we will never hurt you. You have to listen to our advice. Otherwise, you'll become an old and lonely woman that no one wants as a partner when the time comes." Pfft! "We're a family", she says! I think these relatives of mine just don't want me to live a nice, comfortable life as a single woman! Unable to endure it anymore, I put down my fork and lift my head. Then, I flash everyone an awkward smile. "In that case, Aunt Zoe, why don't you tell me who's more impressive in bed? Was it Uncle Caleb… or Uncle Adam? "Since we're a family, we should be honest with each other, right?"

My partner, Derek Crawford, calls himself a traditional man. On our tenth anniversary, I bought him a pair of his favorite AJ sneakers. Instead, he gifted me a bag of pastries. "Your cake is extremely tiny, and yet it costs you a few dozen dollars! Look at the pastries I got you—not only are they cheap, but they are also huge in quantity! Now this is what I call worth it!" After that, Derek tells me that he'll make it up to me by throwing an engagement party. He has also invited my parents and my relatives to the party. With anticipation brimming in our eyes, we arrive at the restaurant, only to see Derek serving us with store-bought pickles and dinner rolls. "I'm a traditional man, you see. I'm not used to fancy food and foreign cuisines. This, right here, is the basics of a traditional dinner. You don't see patriotic men like me nowadays!" My relatives' expressions change drastically on the spot. Meanwhile, my parents look very mortified. I can only smile awkwardly at them while doing everything I can to stop them from leaving. But as soon as I leave the hotel, I receive a notification from the bank that 200 thousand dollars have been deducted from my account via a supplementary card linked to it. At the same time, Derek's childhood sweetheart, Renee Young, posts a photo of her 12-layered luxurious cake on her social media account. "When I told Derek that I wanted to celebrate my birthday, not only did he buy me the most expensive strawberry cake, but he also reserved a dozen or so tables that are served with the grandest feast! "If your man loves you that much, he won't need any lessons in pampering you! Traditional men definitely know how to love and pamper their queens!" I tighten my grip on my phone. As I look back at Derek, who keeps claiming that he's a traditional man stuck to his traditional ways, I suddenly find it exhausting to continue being in a relationship with him.

At the New Year's Eve dinner, my mom suddenly assigns some rules to me and my siblings. She claims that those who don't fit the criteria aren't allowed to eat at the table. Rule number one: One must have spent at least 50% of their time keeping Mom company at home last year. Rule number two: One must have gone shopping with Mom all the time. Rule number three: One must keep giving Mom allowance. But it appears that I, the oldest sibling, am the only one who doesn't meet the requirements. My little sister, Chelsea Cage, begins acting coquettish immediately. "All Cassidy cares about is her business, unlike me, Mom! I care about you!" Meanwhile, my younger brother, Cameron Cage, lectures me with a frown, "What's the point of you being able to earn more money than average people? No matter how good a breadwinner you are, the fact that you don't care about Mom completely nullifies it!" My mom tells my siblings to sit around her happily. Then, she criticizes me in a sarcastic tone. "As parents, when we become old, what we need is our children's company, not cold hard cash." I'm pissed off, to say the least. I'm the breadwinner of this family, and yet these freeloaders get to put on airs in front of me. The reason why I don't go shopping with my mom is that she's never satisfied with whatever gifts I've picked out for her during the times I did go out with her. That's why I gave her money straight away. I didn't give my mom any allowance at all because all the money is regularly deposited into the supplementary card, which she has. Since my long-term efforts are worth nothing compared to my siblings' sweet talk, I suppose I can quit being the ATM of this family.

In the third year of my relationship with Dante Santoro, heir to the Santoro family fortune, I got pregnant. The night before the Don's birthday banquet, he finally brought me home as his girlfriend. Giulia Costa, the housekeeper's daughter, smiled sweetly and asked about my food allergies. I mentioned I was allergic to truffles. In the end, every dish at dinner was loaded with truffles. I swallowed my irritation and grabbed a slice of cake that looked safe. Two bites in, I heard her laugh. "I got creative and mixed truffle powder into the frosting. How is it?" Before I could answer, my throat closed up and I could not breathe. Giulia gasped and covered her mouth. "Ms. Leone, your skin is turning purple! Do you have some kind of contagious disease?" Everyone watched as I was carried out like trash. The moment my allergic reaction cleared up, Giulia insisted on helping me pack. I told her multiple times not to touch my ring. In the few minutes I spent in the bathroom, she "accidentally" knocked it down the drain. That was the wedding ring Dante gave me. I lost my temper and confronted her, but Dante just laughed it off. "She's jealous of your pretty ring. Don't be so petty." That night, Giulia brought sleep-aid drinks to my room as an apology. Dante convinced me to accept her peace offering. I drank a few cups and felt drowsy almost immediately. When Giulia walked me back to my room, I told her to lock the door behind her. Ten minutes later, a group of men shoved their way inside and beat my stomach until I miscarried. The baby was gone. Giulia's eyes filled with tears as she claimed she never saw anyone enter. She said I never wanted the Santoro family to have an heir and had orchestrated my own abortion. Dante went white with rage and ordered his men to dump me in the ocean. When I opened my eyes again, it was the night before the banquet.

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda. For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone." He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you." They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table. The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer." His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow." This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation. A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset. After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight. I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door. Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?" Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over. "Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood." Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?" "It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?" Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times. In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me. And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

Kaelan noticed I hadn't filed a single medical or living expense request in the pack’s resource channel for a week. He must have thought I’d finally kicked my greedy human habits. At dinner, he tossed a black card at me. It cut a cold arc through the air, landing beside my plate. “Your father’s treatment for next month. The wolf gene serum, the lab fees—it’s all approved.” His voice was pure Alpha command. An order, not a suggestion. “Bringing you and your father here was a risk. I fought the Elders for you. You are my mate. Stop begging for pack funds like a common stray. It’s a bad look.” He didn’t know my fingers were ice-cold when I picked up the card. The papers to sever our mate bond were already signed. So was my will. The hoodie I wore when I left was a faded thing he’d tossed at me three years ago. No one would believe it. The fated mate of an Alpha who ran a corporate empire… had to send a photo of a $10 painkiller receipt to a Beta assistant for approval. All because he thought a fragile human like me was a leech who couldn’t be trusted with cash. But a week ago, when my father’s lupus caused his organs to fail, I needed $50,000. He needed a dose of pure gene repair serum, synthesized in the pack’s high-tech med-bay. I begged him on my knees. His childhood friend, Seraphina, just laughed. She froze my request, saying she was helping me break my bad habit of “cashing in on my mate status.” Kaelan never knew I endured that humiliation just so my father could stay alive in his top-tier medical lab. Now, my father was dead. The medicine was cut off, and his ashes were already in the ground. I didn’t need to be his obedient little pet anymore.