Foto Smile

My husband drives me out so I can meet my best friend for an afternoon tea session. That's when I discover a used condom and a stray earring wedged between the door and the front passenger seat. I'm distraught as I head to the restaurant. My best friend hugs me warmly, but the lone earring she wears pierces my heart. I don't expose them for their betrayal. Instead, I fall into bed with my husband's best friend that very night. Later, James Fullman roars and asks why I've done this to him. I smile faintly and lean into the embrace of the man beside me. "You're not the only one who can get hot and heavy in the front passenger seat, you know."

I was the perfect wife to billionaire tycoon, Lanc Arcony, until his cruelty knew no bounds. My husband, the richest man of his generation, thought he could replace me. He thought his money could erase his sins. He was a fool. Now, the woman he knew is gone, replaced by a stranger with a smile sharp enough to cut glass and a plan to match. I am a calculated risk, a seductive threat stitched into the fabric of his existence. He just doesn't realize how my every action is planned, each of word a weapon, and that everything is at stake—his company, his reputation, and his new life. But when the line between my actions and my wounded heart begins to blur, will I be the one to destroy him, or will his dark temptation consume me once more?

They betrayed her, broke her, and left her to die. But fate had other plans. Lyriel gave everything for love. Her time. Her dreams. Her heart. She built his empire, raised the child he claimed was abandoned, and stood by him when no one else would. But behind every kiss was a lie. Behind every smile, betrayal. When the truth finally came to light, it shattered more than just her world—it cost her her life. Poisoned. Stabbed. Burned. But Lyriel's story didn’t end in the flames. She opened her eyes to a time before it all began—before the wedding, before the lies, before she handed her life away to those who would watch her burn. This time, she’s not here to love. She’s here to destroy.

Will grew up in a reality where men were not allowed to cry, express their feelings, or do anything that was considered too feminine. The son of a wealthy Thai family, he was raised to be his father's successor in business, but Will wanted to go beyond that, and became an actor. Everything in his quiet world was fine, until he was invited to act in a Boyslove series, alongside Nate, the guy with the intimidating eyes. Nate wasn't very sociable, always very quiet, didn't like much physical contact, and wasn't romantic at all, all this before he met Will, the boy who made him smile and made his day happier. Wil and Nate's world is no longer the same, everything they believed in has disappeared, and now fiction seems to invade reality, feelings are not only those of their characters, and they can no longer disguise what they feel...

The wedding's in half an hour, and my fiancé's assistant, this woman, just hands me this paper. Rule number one: No physical contact with him outside, not unless he explicitly permits it. Rule number two: Intimacy is to occur only when he initiates it. She is obligated to satisfy his desires at least once a month. Rule number three: He can demand his due at any time, any place, and she cannot refuse. ... After I finished reading this entire two-page contract, I had to fight to keep a smile on my face. Swallowing the fire in my gut, I called my fiancé. "Marcus, what the hell is this?" "What do you mean, 'If he fathers a child, she must raise it, no matter who the mother is'?"

After being married for five years, my husband, Harvey Jepson, brings his first love, Debbie Grayson, home after a six-month business trip. Debbie is over three months pregnant. Harvey says it's hard for her alone, so she's temporarily living with us. I say no, and Harvey warns me to know my place. His scornful tone seems to hint that he's forgotten this villa was a wedding gift to me. He and his family have been leeching off me for the past five years. This time, I'm cutting all of them off. I smile and call my assistant. "Draw up a divorce agreement for me now. To think a live-in husband would have the nerve to bring his mistress home so boldly."

"Lo tau gak, sih, tata krama masuk ruangan?” tanya Regar ketus. Nessa sangat tidak sopan. Masuk ruangan tanpa permisi. Regar menyesal tidak mengunci pintu. Alih – alih menjawab, Nessa malah menyalakan posnelnya dan membuka aplikasi kamera. Ia mengatur kameranya menjadi kamera depan lalu mengajak Regar berfoto bersama. "Apaan, sih!” seru Regar tidak suka dengan tindakan Nessa. "Satu, dua, tigaaa,” Nessa langsung menjepret kamera ponselnya lalu melihat hasilnya. Tampak ekspresi Regar yang sedang marah. Sangat kontras dengan Nessa yang tersenyum manis. "Hahaha lucu, deh. Upload, ah,” Nessa membuka akun Instagramnya kemudian memposting fotonya dan Regar di instastory. Tak lupa ia me-mention akun Instagram Regar. Regar adalah cowok terkenal di sekolah dan luar sekolah sehingga memiliki banyak pengikut. Nessa berharap jika Regar me-repost instastory-nya maka akan banyak pengikut Regar yang mengikuti akunnya juga, “jangan lupa repost, ya,” Regar yang melihat hal itu menjadi semakin kesal, “Nessa hapus!” pinta Regar to the point. "Gapapa lah, Gar, sekali – kali. Kita, kan, belom pernah foto berdua,” jawab Nessa santai sambil memandangi fotonya bersama Regar. Regar membuang napas kasar. Ia menatap kedua temannya yang hanya diam. "Kalo Regar gak mau, sini sama Miko aja, beb,” sahut Miko. "Gak mau. Maunya sama Regar,” Regar memalingkan wajahnya malas, “murahan,” jawab Regar spontan dengan nada meremehkan. Cowok itu sedang menahan amarahnya saat ini. Ia berusaha untuk tidak membentak Nessa walaupun ia tahu kata – katanya barusan sangat tajam.

Dos dez aos dezoito anos, meus pais me obrigaram a escrever duzentas e noventa e nove dívidas. Cada centavo que eu pedia a eles era considerado um empréstimo — algo que eu teria que pagar quando me tornasse adulta. Até que sofri um acidente de carro... Na hora de pagar a cirurgia, ainda me faltavam três mil no cartão. Sem saída, fui implorar ajuda aos meus pais. Mas eles apenas sorriram friamente: — Júlia Monforte, você já tem dezoito anos. Não temos mais obrigação nenhuma com você. Escreva uma nova dívida! Com lágrimas nos olhos, escrevi minha tricentésima dívida. Após a cirurgia, abri o Instagram e me deparei com uma publicação da minha irmã adotiva. Na foto, ela estava em um cruzeiro internacional, celebrando seu aniversário de dezoito anos como uma princesa, cercada de gente a bajulando. O presente dos meus pais para ela? Um apartamento de alto padrão no centro de São Paulo... e a chave de um Maserati. Até meu amigo de infância... olhava para ela com olhos cheios de amor. Ela agradecia: "Obrigada às pessoas que eu mais amo, por me darem o melhor que eu poderia ter." E eu, segurando aquela dívida toda amassada nas mãos, simplesmente sorri. Depois que eu quitar essa dívida... uma coisa é certa — não preciso mais de uma família assim.

Im fünften Jahr meiner Ehe mit dem Don einer mächtigen Mafiafamilie entdeckte ich, dass der Schutzamulett, den er mir geschenkt hatte, mir Kopfschmerzen verursachte, wann immer ich es bei mir trug. Als Chirurgin alarmierte mich das sofort. Ich holte die kleinen Säckchen hervor, die ich im Amulett gefunden hatte, und brachte sie ins Toxikologielabor des Kosley-Krankenhauses. Der Arzt untersuchte das Säckchen und teilte mir mit, dass es eine Art langsam wirkendes Gift enthält, das nicht nur dem Körper des Opfers schadet, sondern es auch nach einer Weile unfruchtbar macht. Ich weinte und rief aus: „Aber das ist unmöglich! Mein Mann hat mir das gegeben! Sein Name ist Vincenzo Cursley. Er ist auch der Besitzer dieses Krankenhauses!“ Der Arzt sah mich verwirrt an. „Miss, bitte hören Sie mit diesem Unsinn auf. Ich kenne Herrn Cursley und seine Frau. Sie sind sehr eng miteinander. Übrigens hat Frau Cursley vor nicht allzu langer Zeit einen Jungen zur Welt gebracht. Beide sind jetzt auf der VIP-Station und sehen sich ihr Baby an.“ Dann zeigte mir der Arzt ein Foto auf seinem Handy. Vincenzo trug seinen üblichen schwarzen Anzug, auf dem das Wappen der Familie Cursley gestickt war. Er hielt ein Baby in seinen Armen, und die Frau, die neben ihm stand... Ich kenne sie. Claudia Henderson. Und Vincenzo hat sie immer als seine Adoptivschwester bezeichnet.

He marked her like property. Then completely turned on her. Cecelia was never meant to survive the bond, she was just meant to bleed for it. Chosen for her pack, used for an alignment, discarded when she became inconvenient. Zeke took everything from her: her freedom, her future, and something she never meant to give; her heart. But she didn’t die. She learned. Now she’s back, unrecognizable, with poison in her smile and vengeance stitched into her skin. His mark still burns on her body. But the girl he broke is gone. And the woman she’s become wants nothing to do with him. She doesn’t want his love. She wants him to break, And this time, she’ll make sure he stays broken.