Good Boundaries And Goodbyes Mga Nobela at Kwento

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll unblock you next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

Giselle Shaw, the intern, has sent a five-dollar bonus to the company's group chat that has 500 members in it. I get crowned as the luckiest person for being able to claim 20 cents from the bonus. So, Giselle tags me in the group chat immediately. "Hey Rebecca! Since you're the luckiest person in the group chat, why don't you send a bonus here? There are 500 people in this group chat altogether, so you can just send 5,000 dollars here. "5,000 dollars isn't much for you, right? It so happens to be the bonus you've received from Mr. Gallagher because of the project you've secured. You can send us the bonus so that we can get some good luck from you!" The moment I refuse, Giselle begins playing the pity card in the group chat by claiming that she can't reap good luck for everyone in the company. My boyfriend, Vincent Gallagher, rushes into my office and starts berating me angrily. "Rebecca Campbell, just how stingy are you to not want to send a five-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat despite being a higher-up in this company? You even made a young woman cry! Is this how you do things? "You'd better send a 50-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat right now and write a five-thousand-word apology letter by hand! I want you to sincerely apologize to Giselle as well! Otherwise, I'll break up with you! You can forget about retaining your position in this company, too!"

The conference room had started leaking, so my fiancé, Zack Tim, and I moved to a hotel to continue discussing work. We had barely taken out our documents when the door was suddenly kicked open. “Welcome to tonight’s first live bust from the Cheaters on Catch team, a special Valentine’s edition! Just look at her and her plastic surgery. She has the face of a homewrecker…” Amidst my confusion, a storm of punches and insults came crashing down on me. Zack, on the other hand, was gagged, tied up, and dragged to the side. They tore up my contracts, ripped apart my custom-made outfit, and kicked my unborn child to death. The streamer clapped her hands cheerfully. “That’s it for today’s livestream! Client, don’t forget to leave us a good review.” If they thought they could walk out that door, well, I’d be damned.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

My father's company lost a senior executive out of nowhere, so he called me back from overseas to steady things. He even set me up with the best office in the building and an antique ornament as a welcome gift. I had barely started working when a man barged in. He slammed his bag onto my desk, knocking the ornament clean over. Before I could react, he grabbed me by the collar, yanked me out of the chair, and dropped himself into the leather seat like he owned the place. "I'm taking this office," he said, lounging back. "Show yourself out and shut the door." My temper spiked. "This is my office. You need to leave." He let out a cold, dismissive laugh. "Your office? Please! Forget this office. The whole damn Neel Corporation is gonna belong to my girlfriend, Violet Neel. If you know what's good for you, get lost!" I frowned. Wasn't I the one set to take over? Who the hell was Violet supposed to be? I pulled out my phone and called my father. "Have you lost your mind, old man? You've got some secret daughter taking over the company now?"

My mom ran a clinic her whole life, charging just five dollars for cold medicine. After I took over the clinic, I followed her teachings closely, doing my best to care for the folks in our community. However, after I charged an influencer 30 dollars for medication, I got blasted online as a scam clinic that was out to rob people blind. The entire town showed up at my door, young and old alike, demanding I return the 'overcharged' fees. I gave them exactly what they wanted and refunded every penny before shutting down the clinic for good. "There you go, just like you wanted. The clinic's closed. From now on, if you've got health concerns, feel free to drive 30 miles to the county hospital for consultation. I wish you all good health." The very next day, they were back at my door again. Only this time, they were begging me to reopen.

My father-in-law, George Lane, suffered from a brain aneurysm and fell onto the ground. The floor was covered in his blood. I calmly picked up a mop and wiped the floor clean. As his daughter-in-law, I gave up on saving him within the most critical time. In my last life, I was the first person who found out that George was injured. I immediately got an ambulance and sent him to the hospital. Before the surgery, the hospital required his immediate family member to sign off the consent form. However, when I asked my husband, Brian Lane to come to the hospital to sign that document, he thought that I was acting out of jealousy because he was spending time with his first-love. He thought I was making an excuse to get him home, so he refused to go to the hospital. In the end, George passed away as he did not receive the treatment on time. Brian did not manage to see George for the last time, and he blamed it all on me. He then hacked me to death. “It’s your fault! My dad was so old, and you didn’t take good care of him as a daughter-in-law! Since you’re not doing your part when he’s alive, then you should continue your duties as a daughter-in-law in hell!” When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the day when George died again.

On Valentine's Day, I suggest going to a restaurant to celebrate, but my boyfriend, Michael Nelson, refuses. He says impatiently, "Why should we celebrate some lousy holiday? I don't want to waste good money on it." He turns around and happily chats away on his phone, completely absorbed in the conversation. Then, I hear the system's notification going off in my head. "Congratulations. You have received 2,860 dollars." This means that Michael just transferred 1,430 dollars to his side chick. He doesn't know it yet, but I have a system. It's called the Infidelity Cashback System. Every time he spends money on his other woman, I get double the cashback in my bank account.

Caution: This book contains erotica, dark romance, taboo themes, BDSM, GAY, LESBIAN and all the wicked, beautiful things your imagination craves. Enter at your own risk — and pleasure. Sex, Sin & Silk is a collection of steamy tales where passion knows no boundaries and desire walks the edge of sin. Between the softness of silk and the sting of surrender, lovers find themselves tangled in secrets, temptation, and power. Every story is a dance between control and chaos, lust and love — a reminder that sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn’t the sin itself… it’s how good it feels.

For Mother’s Day, I took my mom on a vacation to one of the hotels I managed. We were just relaxing on the leather couch in the lobby for a moment, when the trainee manager on duty rushed over in a rage and yanked us to our feet. “This couch is reserved for VIP guests with membership cards!” “If you’re on a tight budget, stay at a hundred-dollar budget hotel. Don’t come here just for free air conditioning!” Frowning, I was about to reveal my identity. However, she slapped a bill onto the counter and demanded that I pay for a ten-thousand-dollar meal right then and there. I was shaking with anger. “We just got here, and we haven’t even had a sip of water yet. Why on earth should we pay ten thousand for a meal?” She rolled her eyes and tapped the counter defiantly. “Anyone who stays at our hotel has to pay this fee! “It’s a gourmet meal. Whether you eat it or not is your business, but you have to pay!” I had enough and demanded that she call the manager. But she simply sneered and pointed at her employee badge. “This hotel belongs to my brother in all but blood. I call the shots in the entire front office. “It won’t do you any good even if you were to complain to God himself today!” A chill ran down my spine. I was an only child, and my relatives had never been involved in my hotel business. Who on earth was this “brother” she was claiming to have, and how did he manage to take my place?