Firestar Doesn T Like Waffles

Selina, a young single mother struggling to rebuild her life, carries the weight of abandonment, financial hardship, and society’s harsh judgment. One stormy night, broken from betrayal and despair, she crosses paths with Darius King, a wealthy and powerful businessman mourning the death of his beloved wife during childbirth. In a moment of vulnerability, their worlds collide, leading to a one-night encounter neither of them expects to matter until Selina discovers she is pregnant again. Determined to stand on her own, Selina applies for a job at King International, desperate for stability. Instead of sympathy, she is met with prejudice from Juliana, the company’s sharp-tongued HR officer. But fate intervenes when Darius himself walks in and recognizes Selina as the woman from that night. Shocked to learn about the child she carries, he is torn between anger, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. As workplace tension blends with undeniable attraction, secrets unravel. Darius confronts his pain and the possibility of loving again, while Selina faces jealousy from those who wish to see her fail. When Juliana and others try to push her out of King International, Selina’s resilience is tested, but Darius finds himself standing by her side. Together, they must confront their scars: a man afraid to love after loss, and a woman terrified of being used and abandoned again. Their journey weaves through heartbreak, second chances, and the search for healing proving that love, in its purest form, costs nothing but the courage to accept it. In the end, Selina and Darius embrace not only each other but also a new future one where love is not bound by wealth, grief, or the mistakes of the past, but strengthened by forgiveness and hope.

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.