Foto Killua Cool Berdiri

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

Di tahun kesepuluh pernikahanku, mantan sahabatku memposting sebuah foto. Putrinya dan putraku masing-masing digendong olehnya dan suamiku. Keempat orang itu berdiri berdekatan dan di bawah foto itu tertulis: "Sudah sepasang 'kan anak-anak kami?" Aku berkomentar untuk foto itu, Pasangan yang sempurna. Detik berikutnya, postingan itu dihapus. Keesokan harinya, suamiku bergegas pulang dan bertanya padaku, "Susah payah aku membuat kondisi Sophie membaik, kenapa kamu malah cari ribut?" Putraku bahkan mendorong dan menuduhku, "Ini semua salahmu! Adikku jadi menangis." Aku mengeluarkan surat cerai dan melemparkannya ke wajah mereka. "Ya, ini salahku! Jadi biar aku yang pergi, semoga kalian berempat jadi keluarga bahagia!"

Baru saja masa nifasnya usai, Winda Baskoro menggendong bayinya ke Dinas Kependudukan untuk mengurus kartu keluarga. "Pak, nama anakku Alex Harto." Petugas itu mengetik beberapa kali pada keyboard, tetapi dahinya makin berkerut. "Di kartu keluarga Tama Harto, sudah tercatat seorang anak bernama Alex Harto." Winda tertegun, mengira dirinya salah dengar. "Nggak mungkin, anak kami baru genap sebulan!" Belum selesai bicara, ponsel di sakunya bergetar. Saat dia membuka layar, terlihat foto dari asisten Tama, Sania Marsudi. Dalam foto itu, Tama merangkul pinggang Sania dengan tangan kiri, sementara tangan kanannya menggendong bocah laki-laki sekitar lima atau enam tahun. Ketiganya berdiri di depan gerbang TK, tersenyum begitu cerah hingga menyilaukan mata. Di papan nama yang tergantung di dada bocah itu, tertera jelas namanya, Alex Harto.

I went abroad for a year to further my studies and kept in touch with my girlfriend through video calls every day. One day, I saw her first love posted a photo with a caption: [We are finally back together after ten years!] In the photo, my girlfriend was visibly pregnant, holding the arm of the man next to her with a sweet smile.

On my wedding day, Levi Robbins' "close friend" Gina Fields suddenly fainted. Without hesitation, he dropped everything and rushed to the hospital, leaving me at the altar. My mother, witnessing this humiliating scene from her seat, suffered a heart attack. Yet, none of the guests bothered to help as they were too busy gossiping and laughing at my misfortune. By the time I managed to get her to the hospital, we had missed the critical window for treatment. Just then, Levi finally called, his voice urgent and demanding. "Caitlyn, where are you? Gina's condition is critical, and she needs your bone marrow!" "Levi, we're done," I said firmly, hanging up and walking away. This time, I would not look back.

During the pandemic, to earn more money to pay my bills, I went back to my old part-time job as a blind masseur. However, I did not expect that on the top floor of the office building, there was a hidden special service being offered. My first customer when I went to the top floor to work was the beautiful CEO at my full-time job, Rosaline Dunne. She requested a special massage from me…

I'm a love therapist. My job is to help clients experience what it's like to be in love. One day, a client comes to me, wanting me to serve him in a different manner.

In a world where traditional roles are shattered, meet the enigmatic pair—Alpha and Omega. The Omega defies the stereotype of weakness, while the Alpha discovers he's not as omnipotent as he once believed. Forget about white fur, black fur, or any fantastical notions. In this reality, she doesn't cook, he does, and they both possess an unexpected allure that transcends the ordinary. There are no damsels in distress here, and crowns like "Alpha King," "Red Alpha," or other such titles are merely empty words. She's a rogue, and he's an alpha, but fate has a way of twisting expectations. Bonds form and bonds break, but who said they were meant for each other? Mates may come and go, but that doesn't define their worth. He doesn't require a Luna, and she has no use for an alpha. When the Alpha stumbles, it's the Omega who tends to his wounds. And remember, the Alpha and Omega here aren't bound by conventional gender norms. Buckle up for a story where "forever" takes on a whole new meaning. Discover their captivating journey in "Alpha and Omega," where the lines between strength and vulnerability blur, and destiny takes its unpredictable course. Don't miss out on the secrets that await. Enjoy the suspense!

My husband,Yves Gordon, got a diamond necklace at an auction. It was my birthday. The next day, I saw another woman wearing that necklace. She was Joyce Cherny, my husband's new sales director. That woman posted a dozen shorts on TikTok to show off her necklace. I commented, 'Nice necklace, but the outfit doesn't match.' Half an hour later, Yves called me. He berated, "I bought Joyce that necklace! She deserves it! She doesn't need you mocking her for it!"

A week after my engagement, I was delivered an unusual engagement gift. My phone chimed. I glanced down and saw a push notification from a social app. [Fell in love with a female livestreamer right before my engagement. I feel guilty toward my older girlfriend who's about to become my fiancée—how should I deal with this?] The user ID was "SimonLovesClaire." The profile picture showed a melancholy side view of a man wrapped in a gray scarf. I recognized him instantly. It was my fiancé, Simon Aldrich. That limited-edition scarf was the birthday gift I had given him last year.