Ginger Brave

For five consecutive years, I secured eighty million in core contracts for the company. Yet my salary remained six thousand. At the annual company gala, I simply told my boss, “I want a raise.” In response, he slapped me across the face three times right in front of the entire company. “Do you think clients come to you? They recognize the company! “Paying you six thousand is already charity, so don’t push your luck!” Everyone in the office watched, laughing at me. I said nothing, only quietly wiping the blood from my lip. The very next day, I took all the client resources and moved to a rival company. Three days later, my former boss broke down over the phone, screaming, “Why?! Why did they all pull out?!”

Dahil sa isang masamang plano, nawala kay Maisie Vanderbilt ang kaniyang pagka-birhen at napilitan siyang lumayas sa kaniyang bahay. Paglipas ng anim na taon, bumalik siya sa bansa kasama ang tatlong maliliit na bata, handa na siyang maghiganti.Hindi niya inakalang mas madiskarte pa sa kaniya ang tatlo niyang mala-anghel na mga anak. Hinanap nila ang kanilang tatay, isang taong makapangyarihan at kayang protektahan ang kanilang ina. Kinidnap nila ang kanilang ama.“Mommy, kinidnap namin si Daddy at inuwi na siya!”Pinagmasdan ng lalaki ang tatlo niyang mini-me. Saka isinandal si Maisie sa pader. Habang nakataas ang kilay, bigla siyang ngumisi. “Dahil mayroon na tayong tatlo, bakit hindi pa tayo magdagdag ng isa?”Umangal si Maisie, “P*nyeta ka!”

On the day that Yasmin Starr gets divorced, a divorce agreement becomes the number one trending topic."The divorce is due to the man's inability to fulfill his basic duties as a husband!"That night, Yasmin is dragged into a car. Blake Ford chomps down on her lip, looking fierce. "You can test me out tonight to see whether I'm able to fulfill my duties, Ms. Starr."After the divorce, Yasmin becomes an internationally renowned designer. Countless handsome men surround her.As the line of men waiting for her hand grows longer, Blake can't sit still anymore. He finds opportunities to show up before her, begging for her love domineeringly yet tenderly. "Yasmin, come home with me, okay?""Belated love isn't worth anything, Mr. Ford.""Yes, I'm the worthless one and a lapdog to boot. I was wrong, Yaz. Come home, please …"

A group of unwelcome visitors suddenly show up at a relative's funeral. The man in the lead claims to be my wife's boyfriend and wants to punish me. Apparently, I'm her fresh-faced lover. I don't want this to turn into a big deal because we're at a funeral, so I tell him we'll settle this after everything's over. Unexpectedly, my wife's boyfriend causes a huge fuss and instructs his men to pin me to the ground, wanting me to get on my knees and grovel at his feet. The rest of my relatives are unmoved by this. They watch as my legs get broken. I sneer and say, "Your girlfriend bought this urn for my mom. She spent a fortune on this, you know!" Sure enough, the man is furious. He clamors and wreaks havoc, ultimately smashing the urn to pieces. "How dare you parasites latch onto my girlfriend and try to exploit her! Don't think you're getting a cent out of her!" What he doesn't know is that the "mom" whose funeral is being held is my wife's mother and my mother-in-law. The funeral that is crashing is hers, and her urn is the one he's just smashed.

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

My fiancé, Owen Lockhart, came from old money. He kept a canary in a gilded cage, spoiling her rotten. Just as I was about to break off the engagement with him, a barrage of comments suddenly popped up in my mind. [What did Owen do wrong? He just wanted to get your attention.] [Don't break up with him. All you need to do is shed a few tears, and he'll give you everything.] I turned my head, and through the window, I saw the canary in her high-end jewelry, smiling brightly as she hooked her arm around Owen's. He lazily lowered his eyes, yet his expression held a hint of indifference mixed with a subtle affection. I smiled bitterly, replying to the lawyer's message: [Go on with drafting the engagement annulment agreement.]

A group of unexpected guests suddenly barged into my relative’s funeral. The woman, Xena Carter, leading them claimed to be my husband’s girlfriend and declared that she was here to punish me, the supposed mistress. Out of respect for the funeral, I did not want to make a scene, so I calmly suggested she wait until it was over. But out of nowhere, she lashed out and ordered her group to shred all of my clothes. My relatives around us did nothing and watched coldly as it happened. I calmly dusted myself off, stood up, and led her over to the urn. "This urn for my mother was bought by your boyfriend. It cost nearly a million!" As expected, the mistress flew into a rage, smashing the urn to pieces. "You shameless family of lowlifes! Don’t think you’ll get a single cent from my boyfriend, even in death!" What she did not know was that when I said "mother," I was referring to my husband’s mother, my mother-in-law. She was causing a scene at my mother-in-law’s funeral, and she had just smashed her urn to pieces.

Une intrigue a abusé de l’innocence d’Isabelle Leroy, du jour au lendemain, elle a tout perdu, et a été forcée de quitter la maison…Six ans plus tard, elle est retournée avec ses trois petits enfants pour se venger. Pourtant, ce à quoi elle ne s’est attendue pas, c’était que les trois petits semblaient plus éveillés qu’elle. Ils ont trouvé leur père pour les aider. Un jour, ils l’ont même amené à la maison et ont dit fièrement : « Maman, nous avons amené notre papa ! » L’homme a observé les trois enfants qui lui ressemblaient et, soudain, il a tout compris.Il a bloqué Isabelle contre sa poitrine dans le coin, et a souri sournoisement : « On a déjà trois enfants, il est temps de commencer le processus de conception d’un autre enfant ! »Isabelle : « Pas question ! Va-t’en ! »

Jerome Morrison is busy dealing with his ex-girlfriend's lawsuit regarding the inheritance when I die in a car crash. The police officer calls him to identify my corpse, but he merely snaps impatiently, "Has she moved on to using suicide to threaten me? Too bad it won't work." Later, he finds out his ex-girlfriend caused a car crash, he chooses to destroy the evidence. He doesn't notice that I'm the one who died in that car crash.

My sister, Fiona Miller, has recently opened a luxury spa for business. As such, I bring Dad along to check it out. Of course, we pick the most expensive treatment package available. But barely a few presses from the male therapist, and Dad feels a sharp pain in his chest and can't seem to breathe properly. All the color drains from his face, and cold sweat starts beading on his forehead. I call the manager over, but he seems annoyed. "Oh, he just has poor blood circulation. He'll be fine after the massage. That's just a normal reaction." I can't believe what I'm hearing. "My father has a heart condition. What are you lot even doing to him?" The manager, Seth Zeller, explodes as if I've insulted him and raises his voice. "That's his own pre-existing condition. How is that our problem? We run a legitimate business here. No refunds once treatment begins. Got it?" I gesture at the credentials displayed on the wall. "I don't see your name anywhere up there. You're not even certified. Is this the kind of operation Fiona's running?" Seth folds his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at us. "I'm the boss here. You and your dad look broke as hell. I can tell you're just trying to get a free massage and walk out without paying." "Let me spell it out for you. This package is 38,000 dollars. Adding in the cost of my emotional distress and lost time, the total is 100,000 dollars. Pay up now, or I'm having you both arrested." A massage that almost kills Dad costs 100,000 dollars? So that's why Fiona was suddenly so eager to open this spa. As it turns out, she and her boyfriend are running a fraud scheme. I reach for my phone to call her, but Seth is already making a video call. "Babe, you need to get here right now. A couple of deadbeats are trying to get a free massage and walk away without paying."