I Am Not A Goddess

Revenge? Yan ang gusto ni Kingsley Weston Bamford na gawin sa babaeng kinaiinisan niya kung saan sumira sa kanyang pamilya. Amg babaeng dahilan ng pagkamatay ng kanyang ina at gagawin niya ang lahat para maging miserable amg buhay niya. Pero paano kung ang babaeng gusto niyang masira ang siyang magpapabago din ng kanyang prinsipyo sa buhay? Magagawa pa rin ba niya ang itim na balak para dito o manatiling magbulag-bulagan alang-ala sa kanyang yumaong ina?

KIDLAT DERMOTT RIUS is a son of a kingpin. He was train to be ruthless mafia. He was train to kill those weaklings. Wala siyang kinatatakutan at kailanman ay hindi siya nagkaroon ng kahinaan. But when he became a father ay nagkaroon ng kakaibang katangian at bagong pakiramdam ang namuo sa kaniyang pagkatao. Just because of that one hot steamy night with someone he didn’t know, his life change. Four years later, Kidlat met this girl who was really obsess with him, named Vera. VERA VELASQUEZ was a assassin and a dangerous woman. Alam ni Kidlat kung gaano ka-obsess sa kaniya si Vera kahit pa na kakikilala pa lang nito sa kaniya. Kung kaya ginagawa ni Kidlat ang lahat ng makakaya maiwasan at malayuan lang si Vera. Dahil sa oras na maging intimate ang relasyon na meron siya kay Vera ay maaari nitong malaman kung ano ang itinatago niyang sekreto na itinago niya ng apat na taon.

Description " My life is a maze, And because you entered you can't escape alive. You'll be held by me forever. You're all mine. Only mine. " —Thunder Stone Martell Ferrero : Is a name spoken in whispers. A shadow lurking behind the Underground World. Heir of the Ferrero Empire. The most powerful crime syndicate of the country's. The Great Richest Mafia Boss with an age of 23. With a godd*am greek god facial creature. A cold dangerous merciless killer of the underground world. He got almost everything except sa babaeng ilang beses siyang tinakasan. Because he thought she was his wife. ━━━━━━━━━ " Love can wait and if you're the one, I want you'll be the last " —Golden Avery Zapanta Montgomery : A soul of fire, A heart of gold a famous model around the world across countless life time always choose to stay by your side. A loving devoted grand daughter of the Montgomery Family —with an angelic attractive facial, a 21 of age. Avery spent her life walking straight path—where crowds is in. Until one day she'll just find out she's already married into someone she doesn't even know.

Carla worked in Chicago's top law firms. After being cheated on, she wasn't looking for a relationship, that was until one of her big-shot clients asked her to marry her son. Carla denied it at first but was later, manipulated and forced into it by her client, Nina. What Carla didn't know was that marrying Aeden Beckett would turn out to be her worst nightmare. From a simple contract marriage to keep Nina's heart to falling into a twisted web of lies and dark secrets. What will Carla do when she discovers that her gentleman of a British husband, isn't much of a gentleman. He isn't the man he poses to be at all.

After eating a poisonous, hallucination-inducing mushroom, I genuinely thought I’d woken up inside a spicy erotica novel. I was the heroine—a live-in housekeeper working for a rich heir, the kind of impossibly handsome, impossibly wealthy man who only exists in fiction. When I opened my eyes and saw him standing there, I felt… oddly disappointed. I muttered under my breath, “Only six guys? What, do I need to take Sundays off?” The heir let out a short, disbelieving laugh. A slow, dangerous one. “If I’d known you were this bold,” he said, “I wouldn’t have bothered being gentle.” The moment the hallucination faded, I grabbed his sleeve and practically burst into tears. “Honey, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean any of that.” He loosened his tie with maddening calm and murmured, “Relax. No one here takes Sundays off. And if you’re that eager to follow the plot of your little erotica novel… we can start right now.”

My fiancé’s first love Chloe had returned. Rumor had it she’d been overseas, treating some rare disease. I hadn’t believed it—until the day she showed up at my engagement party. And I watched as the man I’d been hopelessly in love with since I was sixteen left our party with her. “Wait for me,” Nathan said, “She is fragile. I need to make sure she is well.” He ignored me, but accompanying her to everywhere. I threw away the rings, trashed the wedding gown. When I was pale and trembling from a heart failure later. Nathan finally showed up. “Don’t you dare die on me, Emily,” His hands were shaking. His voice cracked. “We still have a wedding.”

A group of high school girls was in the middle of doing their sacrificial rite to their make belief goddess when Audrey barged right into the scene and freed their 'sacrificado'. The ritual-gone-bad incident eventually led the girl to fall to her early demise. But to her utter surprise, when she opened her eyes again, she found herself transcending into a different world. Eventually, her complicated fate forced her to cross-dress and live with five young men under the same roof. But would she be able to hide her identity until the end?

In our five years of marriage, my husband, Derrick Wickham, bails on me 99 times for his childhood sweetheart, Jessica Harson. This time, after he stands me up, I find two plane tickets to Frantines in his office. "I was planning to surprise you for our anniversary. Since you've already seen them, we'll just meet at the airport," he says icily. I eagerly pack and get myself ready, arriving early at the airport. I wait from the wee hours of dawn till the late hours of night, but Derrick fails to show up. Then, I see a post on Jessica's social media. "It's my birthday today. Though he doesn't have the time to go on a trip with me to Frantines, I forgive him because he brought me to the amusement park instead!" In the past, I'd have called him, crying and demanding answers. But this time, I'm truly done.

I promise I didn’t do anything that day”. He cups my face and stares deeply into my eyes.      “I want to believe you but I can’t”. I place my hands on his. I close my eyes and let the tears fall.    I feel a soft kiss on my cheeks trailing down to my neck. His hands move up my back as he claims my lips in his. My tears flow freely. He pushes me to the wall gently and claim my lips again. I let my hands do what they have been itching to do and run my fingers through his soft hair.   ******************************************   When Isabel Díaz finds out about her boyfriend and soon-to-be baby daddy’s betrayal on Christmas Eve, she packs up and leaves.     Two years later, she is unexpectedly transferred back to America. She later discovers that this is Jaxon Slade’s doing. Moving back there right before Christmas feels like déjà vu.     Will the health of their child bring them together and allow him to redeem himself or will it drift them further apart?

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.