Gidle #i Never Die

I stumbled across an encrypted folder on my husband's phone, filled with photos of a little girl I'd never seen before. From newborn to first steps, sorted by month—two full years' worth. But the child in those photos wasn't our daughter. When I confronted him, he said she was a girl named Rosie from the children's home I sponsored. The director sent growth updates, and he'd been saving them for me. I never imagined that my warm, thoughtful husband would use my charity to spin a lie. Because every single photo was geotagged to the apartment complex next to his office. And the children's home was on the other side of the city. I didn't call him out right then. Because I wanted to know whose child she really was.

My biggest mistake was marrying the Alpha who hated me. To him, I was never a wife or a Luna, just a living blood bank kept alive to save the woman he loved. My stepsister. He believed every lie she told him and never once chose to believe me. When I finally couldn’t endure it anymore and walked away, he was certain I would come crawling back. He was so sure I wouldn’t survive without him. But I didn’t return. I died instead. At least, that’s what the world believes. Only after my death did he begin to question everything. Only then did the truth surface. Only then did he realize that the woman he destroyed was the only one who had ever loved him without conditions. They say death ends everything. For me, it was only the beginning. Now… I am the Alpha’s greatest regret.

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

Apat na taon ng kasal sila Xyriel at Ralph nang bumalik ang isang babaeng minahal ni Ralph. Noon lamang napagtanto ni Xyriel na kaya pala malamig na pagtrato at tila walang pagnanasa sa kanya ni Ralph ay hindi pala siya ang totoong mahal nito. Siya ang kasama sa bahay at katabi sa kama ngunit ang puso at isip ni Ralph ay nasa babaeng nililihim niyang mahalin, ang kabit nito. Binibigyan siya ni Ralph lagi ng panggastos buwan-buwan, tatlong libo ang saktong pera ngunit kulang ito sa mga gastusin sa pang-araw-araw ni Xyriel. Habang si Ralph ay tinitipid ang pera sa kanyang asawa na si Xyriel, nagwawaldas naman ng halos tatlong milyon para sa paghahanap sa kanyang kabit, ang babaeng matagal ng nakaukit sa puso nito. Sobrang sakit para kay Xyriel na hindi niya mapapantayan ang pagmamahal na pinaparamdam ni Ralph sa kabit nito.

Olivia Smith is the secret billionaire heiress that no one knows about. Disguising as a pauper with her mother's last name "Smith" instead of the popular family name, "Richards," she secretly helps the love of her life, Lucas Preston build his company from the scratch. And how does he repay her? With a heartbreaking betrayal and divorce. When Lucas eventually finds out his mistake in divorcing a billionaire heiress, he wants her love back by all means. But Olivia is now the hottest single lady in the city. And she doesn't want her ex husband back!

"Ingatlah ini Sukma ... aku tidak akan pernah mencintaimu, seumur hidupku." Jagat menatap Sukma tajam. "Saya tidak akan menuntut apa pun darimu, Mas. Tapi satu hal yang pasti, Saya akan selalu berada di sisimu sampai Saya mati." Hutang keluarga membuat Sukma harus membayar semuanya. Tidak dengan uang, tetapi dengan jiwa dan raganya. Sukma membuang jauh-jauh mimpinya, jika dia akan menikah dengan pria yang dicintai-yang mencintai dirinya sepenuh hati. Di mana Sukma harus menikah dengan seorang juragan bernama Jagatnata dan dituntut untuk melahirkan pewaris keluarga Pramoda.

Once a Luna, now a grieving widow and omega, Luna returns to Stone Prime with a silent vow to protect the Prime Cub and uncover the truth behind her mate’s death. But when Kieran—the guy she once loved and the Alpha falsely banished—returns with a contract marriage and a warning, everything she thought she knew begins to unravel.

They called her barren. Her husband believed it. His mother engineered it. And for four years, Bella Cole lived inside that lie — shrinking herself, surrendering her career, swallowing her grief in a marriage that was slowly erasing her. Then came the dinner party. The added chair. The pregnant maid with her hand on her stomach and victory in her eyes. And something in Bella went very, very quiet — and very, very awake. Because the math didn't add up. The diagnosis didn't make sense. And the man who couldn't keep his hands off the help? He couldn't have fathered that child if he tried. Literally. Now Bella isn't grieving. She's building. Piece by piece, witness by witness, document by document — she is assembling the truth that was stolen from her. And when it finally comes apart, it won't just cost Ethan Cole his heir. It will cost them everything. She was never the problem. She was always the answer. And she is only just beginning.

Der Arzt sagte, ohne die neueste experimentelle Therapie hätte ich nur noch 72 Stunden zu leben. Aber der einzige Behandlungsplatz war von Lukas Berger an Verena Lindner vergeben worden. „Ihre Niereninsuffizienz ist schlimmer“, sagte er. Ich nickte und schluckte die weißen Tabletten, die meinen Tod beschleunigen würden. In der verbleibenden Zeit tat ich viele Dinge. Als ich unterschrieb, zitterte die Hand des Anwalts: „Anteile im Wert von 270 Millionen Euro, wollen Sie sie wirklich alle übertragen?“ Ich sagte: „Ja, an Verena Lindner.“ Meine Tochter Lilli lachte fröhlich in Verenas Armen: „Mama Verena hat mir ein neues Kleid gekauft!“ Ich sagte: „Es sieht wunderschön aus. Hör in Zukunft auf Mama Verena.“ Die Galerie, die ich mit eigenen Händen gegründet hatte, trug nun Verenas Namen. „Jana, du bist zu gut.“ Sie weinte, als sie es sagte. Ich antwortete: „Du wirst sie besser führen können als ich.“ Sogar auf das Treuhandvermögen meiner Eltern verzichtete ich mit meiner Unterschrift. Endlich zeigte Lukas zum ersten Mal seit vielen Jahren ein aufrichtiges Lächeln: „Jana, du hast dich verändert. Du bist nicht mehr so aggressiv – so bist du schön.“ Ja, im Sterben war ich endlich die „perfekte Jana Hoffmann“ in ihren Augen – fügsam, großzügig, ohne Widerspruch. Der Countdown von 72 Stunden hatte begonnen. Und ich fragte mich neugierig: Wenn mein Herzschlag auf null fällt, woran werden sie sich erinnern? An die „gute Ehefrau“, die endlich loslassen gelernt hatte? Oder an eine Frau, die mit ihrem Tod Rache vollendete?

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.