End Of The Truman Show Mga Nobela at Kwento

In my past life, my marriage was ruined by a so-called “male best friend.” On our wedding anniversary, he taunted me in front of everyone. “Javier is one lucky guy. Last night I noticed Sophie’s bust has gotten even fuller. It’s so smooth and supple.” Sophie Santos completely disregarded my dignity. She laughed and said they were just close friends who even showered together. I punched him. The very next day, I handed her the divorce papers. She accused me of overreacting and forced me to kneel and apologize to him. I stormed out in anger. However, I never expected the bridge we were overseeing to suddenly collapse. It caused massive casualties. In the end, I was sent to prison for ten years. On visiting day, he actually showed up too. “Thanks a lot, Javier. You signed off on the project. So naturally you’re the one who’s going to serve time.” I glared at him with bloodshot eyes. He leaned close to the microphone. His voice was as soft as a venomous snake flickering its tongue. “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything sorted out in there… just take your time suffering.” Three months later, I was beaten to death by a prison bully on the cold concrete floor. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the anniversary. At that moment, my female best friend kicked the door open and straddled my crotch. “Don’t mind me, Sophie. We grew up naked together. “I know his… measurements from every stage of his life.”

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

After spending the past month working overtime and burning the midnight oil every day, I finally closed a business deal that's worth 50 million dollars before the company's annual dinner. My boss, William Lewis, begins giving away the end-of-the-year bonuses with a wide smile on his face. "The finance director helped our company save three million dollars worth of taxes. He will receive a villa by the river as a gift." "The head of IT led the team and solved various difficult problems. He shall receive 200 thousand dollars in cash." "Lily Lane, the receptionist, has always shown a great attitude whenever she greets the clients. She shall receive a Hermes bag." When it's my turn, I wipe the sweat off my palms before accepting my bonus. But upon opening the giftbox, I see three entrance tickets to the local zoo instead. "You must be sick of receiving commissions all the time as the sales director. Why don't you take advantage of this holiday to spend some quality time with your family?" On the way home, I dial a number. "Mr. Skylar, there's a problem with the 50-million-dollar contract. Let's discuss it later."

Through tear-blurred vision, she saw a figure emerge—a man walking toward her, the fire parting in his wake. His eyes and claws gleamed gold in the firelight, and black and gilded scales covered his face and body, reminiscent of a serpent. But something more specific hovered at the tip of her tongue. His beastly form slowly faded, leaving a beautiful man with warm skin and firm flesh behind. “Help me,” she croaked. “I don't remember…” “Anything?” the stranger asked, his voice deep and ominous. “Only my name. Araheen,” she whispered, her lips trembling.“What happened to me? What is this place?” “You fell behind the Mad End's Wall.” A shadow of a smile crossed the stranger's lips, though it was far from reassuring. Before she could dwell on it, he slid his powerful arms beneath her, lifting her effortlessly as though she weighed nothing at all. “Who are you?” she asked, feeling small in his grasp. He studied her with an enigmatic gaze before replying, I'm Gildeon.” A pause.“Your husband.”

In my past life, I was the ladder they used to climb to paradise. In this life… I am the abyss they will fall into.” Elena Vane died in the freezing ruins of Oakhaven Central Infirmary—betrayed by her husband, Julian, and her stepsister, Lydia. They stole her fortune, destroyed her family… and took the Lunar Ring—the only key to surviving the coming apocalypse. As monsters clawed their way to her door, Elena realized too late— her greatest mistake was trusting them. [DING! Regression successful.] She wakes up eighteen months before Day Zero. This time, the naive heiress is gone. Armed with the Sovereign Space, Elena begins her quiet war: To destroy the man who once owned her future. To ruin the woman who stole her life. To take back everything before the world falls apart. But her most dangerous move may be Caleb Thorne—the infamous Ice King… a man who looks at her like he already knows how this story ends. The frost is coming. And this time— Elena Vane won’t just survive. She will make sure they don’t.

I'm the heiress of an affluent family. The housekeeper's daughter secretly wears my gown prepared for my birthday party, and I'm about to teach her a lesson. Suddenly, I see real-time comments. "This female antagonist is just jealous that the female protagonist looks better in the gown than she does!" "It's fine. The male protagonists are going to show up soon!" "Let's hang on for a bit more. I'd like to see this antagonist continue being so snobby once her family goes bankrupt!" In the next second, my brother and fiancé show up. They shield the housekeeper's daughter in their arms. Sneering, I commanded the staff, "Strip all three of them."

To drown away her pain from a harsh breakup, Jayda went to a bar to get wasted. She met Sebastian Miller, The multimillionaire with the worst personality but incredibly sexy. She had a one night stand with him, creating a bond that binds them forever!

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

Three days before my wedding, I find out that my fiance, Carlo Romano, has changed the wedding venue from my mother's estate to a villa located in St. Morizia, which happens to be his childhood sweetheart, Adriana Montanari's favorite place in the whole wide world. When I'm about to confront Carlo, I overhear him complaining to his friend. "Thank goodness Adriana has a good eye for beauty! Otherwise, I'll definitely get humiliated and mocked by everyone for hosting my wedding at such a rundown place!" His friend asks, "Didn't you agree to host the wedding ceremony at her late mother's home? Aren't you worried that she might not marry you out of fury once she finds out that you changed the venue without her permission?" Carlo merely sneered in return. "Giada's family is insanely weak. Marrying me is her only path out of poverty. She can't risk losing me at all. "Besides, I've already told the wedding planner to call her and inform her about my decision. She must be booking another flight and rushing toward the new destination as we speak." Rage and humiliation swirl around in my chest. I gnash my teeth together, but I opt to turn around and walk away in the end. Three days later, Carlo's wedding goes on as usual at the snow mountain. But I never bought myself another ticket, nor did I appear at the new wedding venue. Instead, I've exchanged wedding rings with another man in Mom's manor located in Tuscanica. Carlo fails to realize that I chose to marry him not because I view him as a ticket to wealth. It's purely because I've loved him for 12 long years. I, Giada Castellani, am bold enough to show my feelings. Since I can enter a relationship, I can always exit it freely. That's why Carlo is never my one and only choice in marriage.

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."