Echoed In Tagalog

“Andronikos, stop,” I said, not meaning it one bit. “Stop?” he echoed, his breath hot against my skin, eyes like molten silver. “Tell me to stop again, Adira. Say the word, and I’ll walk away.” Silence. Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. Then I broke. He was supposed to ruin her. She was supposed to hate him. But when blood, secrets, and obsession collide, Andronikos Karas finds himself torn between vengeance and the woman who’s slowly setting his world on fire. Adira Abara knows she should run. He’s dangerous, unhinged, and he's a literal warning sign. But when desire turns lethal and the truth threatens to destroy them both, can she resist the man who was never meant to love her? One thing is certain: Andronikos will stop at nothing to claim both his justice... and the woman who’s become his greatest weakness.

⚠️ Warning: Abuse, descriptive sexual acts, please refrain from reading this if you're below 18, forbidden love, BDSM, sex control, manipulation. "Take off your dress,” he ordered, his voice quiet but commanding. One guard hesitated and tried to speak, “But, sir—” Damian’s cold stare silenced him immediately. “I said take it off,” he repeated, this time with no room for argument. The guards exchanged nervous looks and then left the room, closing the door with a chilling finality. Aurora was now alone with this man, the one who had bought her like an object. Her dress felt heavy, her heels like chains. Taking a shaky step toward him, her breathing echoed in the silence. “Please,” Aurora whispered, dropping to her knees. “I’m only eighteen. Don’t do this.” Her voice was small, trembling, but she knew he held all the power.

"This is our first night together. You are now my Luna. So, you better take off your clothes or I'll make you." The voice of Alpha Aragon echoed in her ears. She attempted suicide and fled on her wedding day, but nothing worked out. No matter how hard she tried to flee her alpha, he always tracked her down to his castle, his room, and his bed. “I… I….” She stuttered, her gaze drawn away from his. Her heart was with her fiance, who she desired to mate with, until she met that cruel alpha. Her life has been turned upside down since then. "Strip now or I'll..." he growled, threateningly. "Or what?" she wondered aloud, raising her brow. "Are you going to rape me?" "No, I will tie your fours to the bed and fuck you roughly until the sunrise," he said, shaking his head and grumbling.

“That’s not my baby.” His voice echoed through the room, sharp and cold, slicing through the warm, celebratory atmosphere we’d carefully set up. Everyone went still, and I felt my heart lurch, every beat heavy with disbelief. I stared at him with wide eyes, hoping I’d misheard. “What?” The word barely escaped my lips, a fragile whisper. He didn’t even flinch. “That is not my baby,” he repeated, louder, as if to make sure everyone—his family, all gathered here—would hear. *** Darla was rejected by her fiance three months before her wedding claiming that she was sleeping with other men. She was humiliated and kicked out by his family despite her pregnancy, returning home, she was met with the tragic accident of her whole family. Not only did she lose her family and fiance in one night but she was also found out that her fiance was getting married to his claimed cousin. She vowed to take revenge on them and win back everything that belongs to her.

Everyone knew—Jessica Conway had always adored Jack Murray. They were high school lovers, and everyone just assumed they would get married eventually and live happily ever after. But then, there was Abby Conway, Jessica's elder sister who was "gravely ill." On the eve of Jessica and Jack's wedding, he said, "Jess, your sister's really really sick. Let's give her a chance to be the bride for now, alright? You know you're the one I love." Abby echoed, "Jess, promise me you'll come to the wedding, okay?" Jessica clutched the stomach cancer diagnosis in her hands and said nothing. On the wedding day, she never showed up. Jack, realizing her absence, abandoned the ceremony and rushed home—only to find the house empty. The only thing left behind was a single sheet of paper: her final diagnosis. For three days and three nights, Jack knelt before Jessica, begging for a second chance. But she never forgave him. Not even in death.

The day my mother-in-law discovered she had uterine cancer, she packed up and moved in to our home. “I don’t have much time left. I’m all out of hope!” she choked out. “You’d be cruel to kick me out. Show me some mercy!” I looked at my speechless husband, then at my beloved son I had raised with so much love and care. I asked them, "What do you guys think?" My husband silently made a grim expression and grabbed my arm. “How long are you going to hold on to that little incident that happened after Everett was born? Mom's already so sick." My son echoed his sentiment, “Grandma doesn't have much time left. Of course we have to take good care of her!" I smiled at them and said, “Alright. You guys can take care of her if you love her so much."

I was with a fishmonger for seven years. Every night, he pinned me beneath him, reckless and wild. Until one day, he took off his bloodstained apron and came clean–he was getting engaged to Sophia, the Bilotti heiress. Only then did I learn that he was the Don of the Colleo family. “Hahaha! You fooled around with Ms. Mancini for seven years, only to take another delicate young lady’s hand in marriage. Surely, she’s going to come at you.” “Don Colleo, you should keep things sweet with her.” His men’s laughter echoed in my ears. “What’s the rush? I’ve broken her well enough these past seven years. If you don’t mind, you can have her for a couple of days. Evelyn… flexible.” On the day of Vincent’s engagement party, I handed the evidence of his crimes to the police. As the sirens ripped open the city night, someone called out my name. I smiled and leaped from the eighteenth floor.

Looking into the eyes of the brilliant Gregory Green, the world around her disappeared. The grin on his face grew wider as he watched a star struck Willow, gaze deeply into his eyes. Picking up her hand in front of all in the room he shouts ," she is mine! The room was silent and Willow snapped out of her hypnotic trance,looking at the ring on her finger, she tried to tug it off. To her surprise it felt as if it was getting tighter. Gregory watched her struggle,his laugh echoed in the room as he slowly leaned in. Willow stepped back,assuming he was diving in for a kiss. Pulling her into him,his hot breath tickled her ears as he whispered," this is no ordinary ring,babygirl. you are mine forever!" She shook her head , a clear indication of her saying no but the guests at the diner started to applaud. No one dared go against Gregory Green,the richest man in the city. No one dared! Until he forcefully wedded Willow Winter, a waitress in a little diner! A mischievous Willow sets alight to his life,until he claims her heart!

Braving a downpour, I delivered a lavish food order, anticipating the hefty commission and a $100 tip. Laughter suddenly echoed from the villa. Someone started, "He really believes your car crash left you paralyzed? He's hustling deliveries to support you and even pawned his dad's heirloom?" Another said, "What if he discovers you're actually a billionaire heiress, just playing poor? He'd probably break down in tears." Jessica Stark toyed with her wine glass. "Guys like him are wired to serve, especially since he always outshone Mark in our school days. This is his comeuppance." I stood in the relentless rain, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. Turned out, her two-year charade of paralysis was merely to avenge her childhood sweetheart. Her broken legs, deceased parents, and helpless tears were all meticulously crafted lies. Disillusioned, I dialed my estranged tycoon mother. "You win. I'll go through with the arranged marriage."

I was the sole front desk clerk at a haunted hotel. Welcoming players, checking in on the bosses’ quarters, and slacking off a bit were all part of the job. At least, that was what I thought. It turned out my days were far from ordinary. A blood-drenched little girl in a tattered red dress kept ringing the service bell. Her eerie voice echoed, “Miss, why didn’t you come play with me?” A creepy black cat with glowing eyes wouldn’t stop meowing and rubbing against my legs. And then there was the old woman with claws like knives, cheerfully knitting me a sweater… out of players’ skin. One day, I took a day off to care for my sick mother. That was my biggest mistake. The entire game instance erupted in chaos. Bosses interrogated players, demanding to know where their precious front desk clerk had gone. “Did she abandon us? Is she never coming back?” I ran. They chased. But no matter how fast I fled, their grip on me only tightened. In the end, escape wasn’t an option.