I Remember When I Lost My Mind

On my way to the interview, my best friend—who had always warned me not to meddle in other people’s business—suddenly rushed toward the crashed luxury car without hesitation. That was when I knew she had been reborn too. In our previous life, she and I were known as the two top aces of the Finance Department. After graduation, we both made it to the final interview at one of the world’s top five hundred companies. On the day of that interview, we encountered a terrible car accident. The company’s president was inside the wreck. I gave up the interview to save him, while my friend ran straight to the interview without looking back. In the end, she got the offer, and I lost my chance at the prestigious firm. Everyone pitied me. However, the president held a grand wedding to repay me. I became the wife of my friend’s boss. I was admired and envied by all. She, on the other hand, struggled under endless performance targets. She got buried by work. At the company’s annual gala, I stood beside the president, dazzling under the lights, while she faded into the crowd—exhausted and invisible. Jealousy drove her mad. She grabbed a knife and stabbed me right there at the gala. When I opened my eyes again, she and I had both returned to the day of the president’s car accident.

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

Mom and Dad keep claiming that I'm their firstborn, so they need to love me with all their hearts. Already, they're saving up for my college funds and keep taking me on vacations abroad just to explore the world. This time, I've gotten a full score on my exams. My parents decide to take me and my four-year-old sister, Amelia Orson, on a trip. Worried that I might mind Amelia's presence, they even specifically explain to me that no one is capable of taking care of Amelia in their stead, so she has to come along. I accept the explanation immediately. But Amelia falls sick right before the trip. There isn't any cough syrup left at home, so I use my pocket money to buy some imported cough syrup and feed Amelia with it. I thought I'd get praised for my efforts. Instead, Mom rushes over to induce vomiting for Amelia. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "How dare you feed her medicine without checking the source! Do you have any idea how lethal that is? When I was young, I almost died from a dose of misused medication fed by my own sister! How dare you try to harm Amelia, you wretched child!" After that, Mom tells Dad to bring out his suitcase so that she can lock me up in it. "You want to go on a trip because you've scored full marks in your exams, right? Fine! Have all the fun you want in the suitcase!" What they've forgotten is the fact that Dad often uses this suitcase on his business trips, so there's a TSA-approved lock on it. I can't even open the suitcase from inside.

In the underground casino, my ex-fiancé Don Dante Castellano threw the card in my face. His arm was around Sabrina—his first love—and his eyes were ice as they shoved me toward the table. "Your father owed mine a life. The thing in your belly isn't mine." He pressed the card flat against my cheek. "The daughter pays the father's debt. Tonight you're the living chip on that table." The paternity test was fake. The child was his. I knew. He didn't believe me. That night, with a gun pointed at my head, I took off all my clothes in front of everyone. Two years passed. Two years later, in Vegas, he saw me again. I was in a red silk dress with a gold chain around my neck, the other end of the chain held by a yellow-toothed gambler. "This bitch is cheap. Bark for me, and all these chips are yours." I picked up the chips, practiced. "Woof. Woof." Sabrina pressed her face into his chest, covering her nose. "Dante. This is disgusting. Let's go." He didn't go. The veins rose along his temple. He was staring at the bruises on my knees. Then he kicked the gambler across the room. He bent down and took hold of my chin. Hard. "Sienna. Money, and you'll do anything at all?" He was close enough that I could smell him. Soap. Two years, and still the same soap. I closed my eyes, opened them, pulled my mouth into a smile for him. "That's right, boss. Pay up and I'll cooperate with whatever position you want. Care to buy a round?"

Quinn Parker has a system: keep her grades up, keep her feelings private, and absolutely never act like the kind of girl who screams over a boy band, no matter how many NEON ATLAS songs she has memorized. So when the group’s lead singer, Jace Wilder, is chased through the arena hallway before a sold out show, Quinn reacts on pure instinct: she yanks him behind a giant fake pot plant, yells his name, and points the stampede of fans in the wrong direction. Jace disappears with security. Quinn goes back to her life. End of story. Except a week later, Quinn lands an after school cleaning job at a luxury rental and opens the door to find Jace Wilder alone, exhausted, and nothing like his shining, onstage self. He tries to flip the charm back on when he realizes she’s the girl who saved him, but Quinn doesn’t buy it. She makes him a coffee, tells him to sit down, and treats him like a normal person for the first time in a long time. Quinn isn’t falling for a fantasy. She doesn’t even know him. But the more time she spends in his offstage world, between rehearsals, rumours, and the pressure to always smile, the harder it becomes to ignore the quiet, real boy behind the spotlight… and the fact that he’s starting to look at her like she’s the only place he can breathe.

"Asawa niya ako, pero hindi kailanman minahal." Sa loob ng isang taon, tiniis ni Anessa ang malamig na pagtrato ni Bart Divinagracia—ang CEO na asawa niyang itinuring siyang wala. Isang kasal na itinali ng obligasyon, hindi ng pag-ibig. Isang pusong tahimik na nasasaktan, umaasang mamahalin din siya balang araw. Pero hanggang kailan siya maghihintay? Nang siya’y tuluyang iwan, doon lang napagtanto ni Bart ang halaga ng babaing dati’y hindi niya pinansin. Ngayon, handa siyang bawiin ang pusong sinayang niya—pero may babalikan pa ba kaya siya? O huli na ang lahat?

Five years later, Stella was released from prison—only to face the brutal vengeance of Joseph, the new Alpha. Convinced she had caused his father’s death, he tormented her mercilessly. Yet he never imagined the truth: the accident five years ago had been his father’s doing, and Stella had been innocent all along. Now, as Joseph realizes he’s fallen in love with her, where does that leave him?

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.

My life was about to be complicated. Meeting a stupidly hot guy after a missed flight, and a kiss that left me dizzy. We agreed: no names, no numbers. Just a hot make out session and goodbye. But when I start my dream job the next week, guess who’s sitting behind the Managers desk? Yep. The airport stranger. Now he’s Mr. Thatcher… aka my boss. Worse? He’s older and engaged. I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about that kiss especially when I’m supposed to be working, but my brain still hasn’t gotten the memo. Office meetings just got a lot more complicated…..