Every Day Every Moment

"Mommy, you have to be the first person to come pick me up, okay?" These are my daughter Dorothy Grant's final words to me when she walked me out of the house this morning. But when I stand at the kindergarten's entrance with a box of Dorothy's favorite strawberry shortcake in my hands, the security guard just stares at me as though I lost my mind. "Ma'am, this place might be where Sunflower Kindergarten is located, but it has already closed its doors for three years. This place is now a retirement home." I rush into the "kindergarten" instantly. The spot where the slide used to be is now replaced by a row of flowerbeds. The room that used to be the classroom now hosts a bunch of elderly people, who bask in the sunlight. With trembling hands, I call my husband, Chester Grant, on the phone. He sounds very exasperated and exhausted over the phone. "Honey, we've been married for five years, and we choose to be childless. You've never given birth before."

The day I land a hundred-million-dollar deal for the company, my girlfriend—Paisley Needham, the CEO—finally agrees to marry me. The next day, I wait at the city hall until it closes. She never shows up. Instead, what I get is her official announcement with her assistant, Jude Grayford. In the photo, she nestles in his arms. A crisp marriage license sits in her hand, impossible to miss. The caption reads, "My CEO, Ms. Paisley Needham, couldn't bear to see me going on blind dates, so she just went ahead and got the marriage license with me today. I'm so happy!" My colleagues gossip, assuming I'll be jealous and furious. I don't. I just like the post and comment, "So, when's the ceremony? Don't forget to invite me!" Paisley calls immediately, cursing me out. "I just didn't want to see him being pressured into blind dates by his parents, so I agreed to get married on paper to keep them off his back. It's not like we're actually married. Do you really have to be so petty? "Delete your comment right now and get on your knees to apologize to Jude. If you don't, I'll never marry you." I laughed bitterly. "Even better," I say. "I hope you two have a long, happy life together… and have lots of kids."

My dad collapsed from a sudden heart attack and died. The shock hit my mom like a freight train, and she blacked out cold. By the time I raced home from college, his body had already been reduced to ashes in the crematorium. Grief barely had a chance to sink in before the debt collectors pounded on our door. That was when the ugly truth emerged. My dad had secretly racked up billions in loans, saddling my mom and me. A year later, the relentless harassment from those goons drove my mom to despair. She ended her life, and I was forced to drop out of school, scavenging dumpsters just to scrape by. But fate had a cruel twist in store. I spotted my "dead" dad, alive and thriving, hosting an extravagant birthday bash for his secret son. I stormed in, desperate for answers, only to be hurled out by security. My head cracked against the pavement, and everything went black. When my eyes fluttered open again, I was inexplicably back on that fateful day of my dad's heart attack.

KAAWAY. Isang salita na sa bokabularyo ni Rajinah ay siyang naglalarawan sa isang taong wala nang ginawa kung hindi ang painitin ang ulo niya—si Kenzo Martinez. Para bang hindi magiging buo ang araw kapag hindi siya nito naasar. Isang araw, nagulat na lang ang dalaga sa kakaibang damdamin na sumibol sa kanyang dibdib para sa binata na ni sa panaginip ay hindi niya naisip na magiging espesyal para sa kanya. That drastic changed happened when Kenzo suddenly showed the other side of him which was sweet, caring and genuinely tender. But she should not be confused, right? Her heart already belonged to another man. A man that she cherished in her heart for years now. A man who she thought was the total opposite of Kenzo. Pero bakit isang halik lang ni Kenzo ay nanlambot na kaagad ang tuhod niya at natunaw kaagad ang resolba niya na panghabang-buhay itong ituturing na kaaway?

On our wedding anniversary night, my husband, Lucian Moore, comes home with a seven-year-old orphan named Chloe Martin. He even hands her the necklace he bought me for our anniversary and lets her play with it like a toy. Because of her, my son, Ryan Moore, shouts at me for the first time. "You're a bad woman! I don't want you to be my mommy!" I watch the three of them sitting together, warm and cozy, and I say nothing. Instead, I buy a ticket to leave the country. At first, they think I'm just acting out and will come home in a few days. But when they return from Feanland after celebrating Chloe's birthday, they find out I've joined a ten-year classified research project and will not come back again. At that moment, they fall apart.

Right after finishing a meeting, I opened a forum and saw a warning post. The location tag was our company. The title read: “Red flag! What a cheap company. Anyone who joins is a total sucker. They can’t even afford a decent coffee break.” The photo attached showed the expensive coffee and five-star desserts I had just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frowned and tagged the entire group chat, asking if anyone had suggestions about the afternoon tea. A Gen-Z intern who had just joined, Julian Hayes, instantly replied with a voice message: “Boss, no offense, but these assembly-line desserts are full of trans fats. Nobody would eat them.” “A truly humane company hires a Michelin chef to cook and slice everything fresh on site. That’s what real respect for employees looks like.” I laughed in disbelief. Our company’s daily coffee break budget was thirty dollars per person—already considered top-tier in the industry. So I replied, “Since it’s impossible to satisfy everyone’s taste, we’ll cancel afternoon tea from now on and convert the budget into cash for everyone instead.” Less than five minutes later, that post was updated: “Guys, can you believe this? I made a perfectly reasonable suggestion and the lame boss immediately canceled the whole coffee break perk! This is the true face of corporate greed—can’t handle even a little bit of honesty!”

cold finger brushed my chin. It was barely there, but it sent a quick, immediate thrill through me, as though my body was unsure whether to retreat or lean in. He raised my head slowly and purposefully. At first I fought; my muscles clenched with terror, but his hold was unbelievably strong, and his touch was commanding but delicate. I had no choice but to follow. Then our eyes connected. My breath caught in the back of my throat. Elara’s lineage was cursed. A werewolf by blood, a witch by fate, and something far more dangerous by destiny. She had spent her life looking forward to the mate ceremony but she gets the shock of her life as he rejects her and she is attacked. Everything that she has ever know about herself is not what it seems. Rejected by her mate, she is hunted by the supernatural council. But the night has other plans. When she falls into the hands of Abbadon, the Vampire King, she expects death. Instead, he saves her, binding their fates in ways neither of them understand. With war looming and the council determined to erase her existence, Elara has no choice but to embrace the darkness within. The witches who should have stood by her have turned against her. The werewolves see her as an abomination. And the council’s most feared enforcers are closing in. When her home is burned to the ground and her family slaughtered, she swears vengeance. No longer just a fugitive, she becomes the storm that will bring the supernatural world to its knees. Will she survive or will she forever be an abomination to be hunted until her death?

I grew up with the Vipera brothers. They have always considered me their younger sister and spoiled me silly. But after that car accident, my relationship with them changes completely. The accident leaves me with severe burns on my body, and I'm in constant agony. On top of that, my face is disfigured too. The moment I'm wheeled out of the ICU, I call the Vipera brothers to let them know that I'm safe. However, the only response I get from them is an impatient dismissal. "Sofia, Bianca hurt her fingers during the accident. We're taking care of her now. Don't bother us by throwing a tantrum." Soon, Bianca Rossi uploads a selfie of herself with the Vipera brothers in a luxurious hospital room. She's wearing three wolf fang bracelets on her wrist. I'd given those to the Vipera brothers as a Christmas gift last year. To get the fangs from the particular species of wolves they liked, I trekked through the jungle alone with a gun and battled feral wolves the entire night. I completely let go of any remaining feelings toward the famiglia that raised me and decide to leave them for good. When the Vipera brothers see me again at a grand banquet held by the Ferro famiglia, they are overwhelmed with regret.

My boyfriend Julian is a chess grandmaster, a genius. At sixteen, he became the youngest grandmaster in North American history. I gave him ten years of my life, but a ring was never on the table. But when he reached the pinnacle of his career and won the Grand Slam, he still refused to break the pact he'd made with his family about his career. "According to my plan, I'm not considering marriage or any other form of long-term commitment until all my goals are achieved." I didn't argue with him. I quietly packed his luggage for the World Championship and wished him the best. He had no idea that at the very moment he was lifting the championship trophy with the world watching, I was dragging my failing body to sign my own name on a euthanasia consent form.

My husband, Julian Sutton, is busy with work on the day of my prenatal checkup. His childhood sweetheart, Vera Levine, with whom he's been amorous for years, offers to drive me. On the way there, she suddenly swerves and rams into the back of a truck. The car is flattened. Julian is a doctor in the emergency room, but I don't call him. Instead, I dial 911 and wait for assistance. Why? I called him in my past life, and he took me to the hospital. Our child was saved, but Vera died due to significant blood loss. Julian claimed not to blame me and even arranged for me to stay in a private hospital ward. But on the day I was discharged, he dragged me to Vera's grave and stabbed me. I lost the child and was on the verge of death as I stared into his bloodshot eyes. They were filled with unbridled hatred as he snarled, "Vera wouldn't have died if you hadn't grabbed the wheel! Don't think I'll believe you just because you're acting innocent! An eye for an eye—I want you to die for her, but only after experiencing the pain she felt in a hundredfold!" He twisted the blade and stabbed me repeatedly. My blood splattered on Vera's gravestone, dying it red. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been taken back to the scene of the accident.