Failure Frame Volume 11 Mga Nobela at Kwento

I had always been naturally celibate. Yet somehow, I still ended up chemically castrating myself. It was all because, in my previous life, my wife's precious idealized lover, a libidinous playboy, went viral as a pickup artist and dumped every side effect of his indulgent lifestyle onto me. He spent nights partying in hotel rooms with groups of women while I collapsed from kidney failure and was rushed to the ER. He lounged in clubs with women in both arms, downing bottle after bottle, while I went into an allergic shock and nearly died. I confronted my wife about it, but she shoved me away impatiently. "Shane already told me nothing happened with those women! You're just jealous and faking illness to slander him!" However, the playboy's actions only escalated. Chasing bigger thrills, he even started getting involved with men in drag. Thanks to him, I caught an STD, which pushed my wife to demand a divorce. I went to the hospital for treatment, but the doctors could not find the cause. Instead, they tossed me straight into an addiction rehab program. Later, for the sake of boosting his live stream numbers, the playboy went wild in Southwind Asira's nightlife scene. After he spent an entire night drowning in pleasure, I, drained past my limit, collapsed and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day he began his online hunt.

What if you are invited in a falling game? Where your heart is in contingency. You need to act like a real couple in one whole month with activities you need to do together. What's the percentage of you not falling in love? Can you distinguish if he/she shows genuine gesture or is it a trap to make you fall? The prices are immersive, hard to nod off. Will you chose money or love? Or are you dictate your heart for the sake of money? Are you going to fall for uncertain love and vague love? Putting your heart at stake? Or you will play smartly, making your partner fall and ensure your winning place. This is the falling game and everything is fake. Once you fall, you lose. Good day Oxians! You are one of a lucky student to participate in the FALLING GAME. Golden rule: ONCE YOU FALL, YOU LOSE. 1. Exclusive for students of Oxford International School only. Any transferee or exchange students need to sign contracts to avoid problems. 2. Don't kill other participants. You are allowed to harm everyone in the game but killing is a crime. 3. No to inactive. Two absents mean a punishment plus removing to the game. 4. Can do activities and attendances. Failure to comply means a punishment. 5. Act like a real couple. Play your cards well and don't let your heart dictates your mind. We have eyes everywhere. If you are interested, please see us in FG house anytime. For further information and knowledge regarding this game, you may send an email to FGhouse@gmail.com

Victoria Bathram has been fighting kidney failure for five long years. Through endless hospital visits, painful treatments, and nights filled with fear, she survives on one thing alone—the love of her husband, Gabriel. He is attentive, gentle, and seemingly devoted, standing by her side as she waits for the transplant that could save her life. When a matching kidney is finally found, Victoria believes her suffering is about to end. Instead, it is just beginning. By accident, Victoria overhears a conversation she was never meant to hear. Gabriel has made a choice—one that does not include her. The kidney meant to save her will be given to another patient: a young girl named Sandra. A child he calls his daughter. A child from the secret family he has been hiding all along. As Victoria’s health rapidly declines, the truth unravels. Gabriel has not only betrayed her trust but has been living a second life inside her parents’ villas—homes he kept her away from under the excuse of protecting her fragile heart. Through hidden security footage, Victoria watches her husband give his affection, loyalty, and gifts to another woman and her children, using the life she thought was hers. With only months left to live and everything she believed in stripped away, Victoria faces a devastating choice of her own: remain a silent victim of love and betrayal, or reclaim what little time she has left on her own terms.

Zephyr stood with her head bent low and her hands clasped in front of her. His dark aura made cold sweat roll down her spine, and she felt herself trembling. She felt his ethereal dark gray eyes fall upon her, intensifying the urge to scurry away as he closed the distance between them. She tried to move backward, but her back pressed further into the wall, reminding her she had no place to run to. His larger frame towered over her as he placed one hand beside her head. Zephyr had seen many men, and she could confidently say none held a candle to Alpha Damon Alaric. Damon was handsome in every way, and if she didn't know better, she might have mistaken him for the devil. Zephyr shivered when his fingers grasped her chin and tilted it up to meet his dark gaze. "Zephyr…" Alpha Damon trailed off, a sinister smirk playing on his lips. Her heart raced as his thumb gently caressed her lips. "Didn't I tell you you're mine? How dare you let another man touch you?" His voice remained calm, but his eyes spoke volumes. Zephyr's heart skipped a beat when his hands moved to her bottom, gently caressing the soft flesh and stirring sinful desires within her. "Or do you want me to take you to my bed and remind you to whom you belong?" Zephyr Cyrus was the lowest of all kinds; even the Omegas easily trampled her because she was a slave. She had accepted her fate, knowing that denying it would only lead to death. However, everything began to change when the Alpha's shrewd eyes fell on her.

I stood on the pavement outside the townhouse that had been my sanctuary for ten years, watching the removal men haul out my life. Beside me, Lyle didn't even have the decency to look guilty. "It’s just business, Lolly," he’d said an hour ago, dropping the divorce papers onto the marble kitchen island. "You were a beautiful asset. But assets fucking depreciate." Now, I was a 'no one'. No money, no keys, and my reputation dragged through the mud. I stared up at the window of my bedroom. Krista – my ex best friend – was up there right now.. I turned. A man leaned against the frame of a waiting black saloon car. He didn't look like a bloody saviour. He looked like the devil, and right now, the devil was exactly what I needed. "I'm Franco," he murmured. "And I think Lyle just made the biggest mistake of his pathetic life. He thinks he broke you. I think he just let you off the leash." The heat radiating off his body was a phenomenal. I had just lost my husband, but standing this close to Franco, the only thing I felt was a sudden, violent ache. He held out an invitation. The Apex Bloom. A survival game for the elite. The prize is a billion pounds. But it doesn't reward beauty. It rewards the hunger of a woman who has nothing left to lose." A sharp shock shot through me, and I let out a soft gasp. He stepped half an inch closer, his thigh brushing against mine. He knew what that touch did to me. He wanted it just as much as I did. "Rule one," Franco whispered. "In my arena, the only way to bloom is to bleed. Are you ready?"

I won eight million overnight. The first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my son's surgery and treatment. That was when my phone rang. Ian, a coworker from the company, called, "Something urgent came up! You need to get back here right this instant!" My wife, Mara, took the bank card from my hand, and said with an gentle and understanding voice, "You can give me the PIN. I'll take care of our son's hospital bills. Go. Work is important. Don't worry about us." In my previous life, I didn't hesitate one bit. I trusted her completely and hurried back to the office. My son never made it into surgery. Instead, the police came for me. It turned out that Mara and Ian had conspired together to frame me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds on me. The very money Ian had stolen. With no money for treatment, my son died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered fatal heart attacks one after the other. And I, rotting in prison, ended my life in despair. After my death, my soul drifted to the holiday villas of Moldeves, where Mara was on vacation. I heard her laughing as she spoke to Ian, "That idiot won a fortune and wasted it on that useless sick kid. He dragged me into a miserable life." Laughing even harder, she added, "Now, their whole family is dead, and we get to enjoy wealth for the rest of our lives. Consider it compensation from that idiot! Haha!" Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital corridor, at the exact moment my wife reached out and took the bank card from me. This time, I still told her the PIN.

Eric Clapton never expected his ex-wife would move on overnight, and be living her best life. His friends have always mocked him for marrying such an ugly woman. When his mistress showed up, he couldn't exercise the smallest patience to stay married to Liana. "My mind is made up, Liana. Let's get a divorce. $90 million and the penthouse in Rochester will be compensation for your mental damage. Is that enough?" Eric put down the envelope and pen on the pillow beside her. Liana sat up, eyes glued to the man she has dedicated three years of her life to. "Is that all you have to say and offer?" She asked, her eyes holding a trace of detachment. Eric was stuck in thoughts. This was unlike the fragile and indecisive woman he married. Liana smiled as she gazed at his unreadable expression. "I can see you're really prepared for this, you know. This is obviously the first time in three years since you returned home before 11:00 pm, Eric." She added, her lips curling up into an enigmatic smile as she decisively scribbled her signature on the papers. The next morning at the courthouse, she held the divorce papers, her fragile heart tearing apart as she watched her ex husband smiling when he walked away, his hands carefully wrapped around another woman's waist while they strode to his car. Seeing him replace her so quickly was really heart wrenching, but right there, she saw another man who just got dumbed by his fiancee at the crucial hour, and without hesitation, she walked up to him and proposed to replace his fiancee. Now, what will Eric do when at the moment of his regret, he realised that she didn't only move on, but she's now his boss's wife?

Luna never wanted to be special. She only wanted to live quietly with her family, to prove herself at the Moonlight Festival, and to escape the shadow of failure that had haunted her bloodline for generations. But the Goddess chose differently. When she was marked as the Saint of the Moon Goddess, her life ceased to be her own. Saints carry blessings, but they also carry chains—chief among them, the law that a Saint can never claim a mate. That law shatters the moment she meets John. John is the Alpha of the most feared pack in the clan, a man whose crimson eyes strike terror even into his allies. To Luna, he is supposed to be the enemy. Instead, he becomes her savior—rescuing her from hunters, shielding her from danger, and igniting a bond that no divine law can erase. But the Moon Goddess’s blessing is also a curse. Every step closer to John is a step toward rebellion, and the packs are already watching her every move. The Lightning Pack wants her captured. The clan elders want her controlled. And in the shadows, enemies whisper about the Astex Token, an ancient relic tied to Luna’s bloodline that could change the fate of the supernatural world. As battles erupt and loyalties are tested, Luna is forced to choose between duty and desire. Can she obey the Moon Goddess and abandon her mate, or will she risk everything—her title, her family, and her life—for forbidden love? In a world where betrayal waits at every corner and even her destiny is a cage, Luna must decide what it truly means to be the Saint of the Moon Goddess… and whether a heart bound by fate can ever be silenced.

Run, Run, RUN. Don’t stop. The night was falling and like the creatures of the day, I needed to hide. My heart is thundering in my chest, echoing the sounds of the war that rage from the fields of my once loved home. That was before the coven came. Surprising us and taking my home and pack. The attack happened so quickly that no one was ready. We had no warning and after hours of waiting I was found. I had to run. Don't stop running. “CRACK” the current of magic shoots by and hits the tree to my left, my bare feet crunching the earth hard and fast. My small heart fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings, my once sparkling beautiful dress is no more. It’s tattered, dirty, and torn. The edges burnt to a crisp and coated in blood from bodies of the battlefield that I raced away from. “Come here little wolfie,” a harsh raspy voice calls out cutting through the trees I hide quickly behind a tree to take cover to breathe, “I just want a little chat!” He calls singsong like, taunting me. He wants to find me to kill me. Ducking further behind my tree I hold my breath, my young body shaking with so much force my bones ache. Holding my breath and closing my eyes hoping for safety that surely won’t come. At only 11 years of age, I can’t fight this grown warlock... he will surely kill me like he did my parents... “Wolfie princess, where are you?” He mimics the rhythm of a child’s tune, as if I’d listen. Closing my eyes tighter I don’t want to die. I’m too young. My mind is racing, and my hearts bound t....

Rumor had spread through the Vittori family that the daughter they had lost years ago had finally been found. The moment I heard, I left the family branch and rushed back to the main estate. My car had barely stopped when a young woman hurried over and grabbed my hand. “So you’re the Vittori family’s adopted daughter,” she said with a smile that looked painfully sincere. “Your dress is so beautiful. It must cost tens of thousands of dollars. You can tell you’ve never really had to worry about anything before. Unlike me. I grew up in places where even finding my next meal was a problem.” For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. Then her eyes lowered to the only necklace around her neck. “This is the only thing I have from Mother,” she whispered. “Please don’t hate me for wearing it.” The next second, she suddenly grabbed my hand, dragged it up toward her throat, and yanked hard. The necklace snapped. Pearls scattered across the marble floor. “Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at me in shock. “If you hate seeing Mother’s gift on me, I’ll take it off right now. I won’t stay and make things difficult for you. Just please don’t tell Father and Mother. I don’t want them caught in the middle, and I don’t want this family fighting because of me.” She curled into herself on the marble floor, shaking as she cried, while the guests around us immediately turned to stare. I stood there completely stunned. I had imagined a thousand ways I might meet my daughter again. I never imagined she would look me in the eye, mistake me for someone else, and frame me before I had even spoken. Because I was not Valentina. I was her mother.