Exo Lotto Lyrics

Hambog, babaero at manggagamit; ganiyan ilarawan ng mga kakilala ang dalawampu't walong taong gulang na si Raymund Capri. Tila part-time job na nga nito kung ituring ang panghuhuthot ng pera sa mga babaeng kaniyang napapa-ibig. Palibhasa'y likas ang angking kagwapuhan, matangkad at matikas ang katawan kaya't ganoon na lamang kadali sa kaniya ang gawin ito. Katunayan, maging si Vivien Guinto ay napa-ibig niya nang kamo'y una siya nitong makita. Higit pa nga sa nanalo sa lotto ang kagalakang kaniyang naramdaman nang kaagad siya nitong alukan ng kasal. Ito lang naman kasi ang CEO ng Guinto Company na isang kilalang brand ng gintong alahas. Ito na nga kaya ang simula ng kaniyang pag-ahon sa kahirapan?

"It's already 7am, where is Ms. Martin?" I opened the door to my office, exhausted and tired. Another sleepless night. I was taken aback from the scene in front of me. Paris, was randomly dancing with her headphones on. Singing loudly to the lyrics to what seems like a Korean song. "Hello Mr. Hernandez, Go on, tell me I'm late now. Bloody bastard, I went out to get your coffee so you didn't have to drink it cold but i won't do that today because you'd rather your stupid coffee cold than your assistant being a considerate person. RIGHT?" "Glad to hear your thoughts towards me. Ms. Martin." I tapped her shoulder and saw her horrified face when she realized, I heard and saw it all. --- Paris Martin, a girl full of life is given a job as the most ruthless CEO's assistant. Felix Hernandez is a man of his word. He doesn't lie and he hates liars. Paris being the clumsiest person and Felix the most stiff. Felix being Paris' forever bully doesn't help her. When Felix finally ends up ruining Paris, he realizes how horribly he treated her. How will he bring back the sun-like Paris? Will he be able to bring back his best friend's clumsy sister?

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."