Novel & Cerita I Saw Him First Icarly

On the first day of my position as the branch manager of the branch company, I tell my assistant, Derek Mahoney, to not follow me around, seeing as I want to scope out the actual situation at the company in advance. After entering an elevator, I notice that a male colleague has his hands full because of a box he's carrying, so I help him jab the button of the floor he wants to visit. Before I can even retract my arm, the female colleague next to me is quick to slap my hand off the panel. "Where do you think you're touching? Are you trying to get cozy with him just because he's a guy?" The male colleague is stunned, to say the least. He quickly spoke to her in a lowered tone, "Are you nuts, honey? That lady was just lending me a helping hand!" The woman merely pinches the colleague furiously before hoisting me by the collar. "Lending you a helping hand, huh? She's already rubbing up on you and trying to help you out in every way possible even though I'm around. Does that mean she'll start seducing you outright if I'm not here?" I frown at the woman's logic and try to be reasonable with her. "Ma'am, please show me some respect. I'm the new—" "You're new?" The woman cuts me off with a scoff. "How dare you seduce my husband on your first day here! You really think I don't exist at all, huh?" Seeing as the elevator has reached my floor, I don't want to waste my time on the crazy woman any longer, so I try to leave. Mistaking my reaction for one of guilt, the woman quickly grabs my collar and yell, "Now you're trying to leave after stirring shit up, hmm? A minx like you isn't permitted to stay in the company! You must get fired immediately!"

After my older sister, Beatrice Hartwell, has passed away, my brother-in-law, Theodore Wesley, transfers me into his department. At first, I think he's merely watching out for me. But whenever Theodore bumps into someone else, he often leaves his sentences hanging. "After my wife has passed away, it's all thanks to Megan keeping me company all the time that I…" His words are often half-minced and filled with euphemisms. Because of him, the company is filled with rumors of me killing Beatrice just to take over her position at one point. I plead to Theodore to make things clear for everyone in the future. But during a Monday meeting, Theodore continues to mourn Beatrice longingly while bringing me up in a roundabout way. "The reason why Megan is late is that she spent the night in my house last night… Ah, I shouldn't have brought this up. Please don't overthink this, everyone." The thing is, Theodore is the one who wants me to edit the business proposal at his place. My boyfriend is with us the whole time! My colleagues all shoot me knowing glances immediately. They start muttering about "seeing the sister-in-law plot being manifested in real life". I try to explain myself, and yet Theodore keeps mucking things up for me. "Right! She was just editing the proposal in my bedroom—wait, no! It took place in the study! It's my fault for not knowing how to talk properly! The more I explain, the more chaotic things become!" I'm enraged, to say the least. Theodore doesn't know how to speak, right? Then he's better off silent for the rest of his life!

On the day there was an assassination attempt on the Don, my husband, the head of security for the Russo family, was busy coaxing his mistress, who had lost her temper and left. I did not call him for help but used my body as a shield to protect the Don while I was eight months pregnant. In my past life, my husband left his mistress behind and came back with his team of bodyguards to save the Don after I called him for help on the phone. My husband ended up saving the Don and was rewarded by the family with a promotion, but his mistress was killed in the process. Although my husband said nothing about it, he threw me into the shark tank on the day I was in labor. I was covered in blood when I looked at him for an answer. However, all he did was stare coldly at me. "Why did you have to get me to save the Don when he had so many other bodyguards to protect him? You forced me to come back because you're a materialistic woman who only wants fame and fortune! If it weren't for your phone call, Aurora wouldn't have died! You must pay for everything she suffered!" I ended up being torn apart by sharks, and even the baby inside my belly was not spared. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the assassination attempt on the Don.

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."

Two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I was going to surprise my husband, Vince, the Moretti family heir. Instead, the surprise was on me. A pair of black lace panties—not mine—left in his car. The air reeked of cheap perfume and betrayal. I stormed his casino, demanding answers. But I found her in his private suite. Sophia. She smirked, looking me up and down. “You must be the wife. I’ve seen your picture on the nightstand. Vince says you’re a boring little nun. Says he can’t even get hard looking at you.” I snapped. My hand shaking, I hurled a glass of red wine in her face. She shrieked, stumbled back, and crashed into a glass cabinet. Blood bloomed across the carpet. Vince burst in and slapped me so hard I hit the floor. "Are you insane?! She's carrying my heir!" My heart shattered. As I fell, a darker pool of blood spread beneath me. Our baby. I was miscarrying. And when forced to choose between his wife and his whore, Vince chose her. He forgot who put him on his throne. I’m not some trophy wife he can discard. I am a DeLuca. A princess of the underworld. So for revenge, I married his worst enemy, Dante Costello. And when we burned his empire to the ground, Vince finally broke. He got on his knees and begged me to come back.

In a story that depicts power, misunderstandings, and devious plots, Brielle Arwen's life takes an unexpectedly dark turn when her father's debtor attacks the family, literally taking away everything she ever cherished and became collateral to pay back her father's debt. After enduring abuse for 2 agonizing years, her heartless young master lets her go without the knowledge that she carried his seed. But Brielle leaves anyway, crossing paths with an Samaritan in the form of one Miss Camila Jeffrey who takes her in and caters to her until she gives birth to her unborn child. They eventually become the best of friends. Getting back on her feet, Brielle works relentlessly to earn a living for her daughter and herself. Years pass, and Brielle works as a detective in a high-end security corporation. But fate comes again to test her resilience and Brielle finds herself as the lead investigator to a company owned by a certain Marcello Hayes, the same man who had put her life to an abrupt stop when she was helpless. Could she execute the job effectively without the distraction of her past trauma? Would she in a fit of redemption implicate him faster so she could have him done and over with? Would she tell him about the pregnancy she hid from him? Or was she going to find more than she actually bargained for?

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

In my previous life, I practically dragged my useless childhood sweetheart to Harvard with me. My academic record was top-notch, and I spent three years tutoring him. I asked my father to donate a library to Harvard University, ensuring that they would extend an additional offer of admission to Felix. Finally—when he rejected the offer in favor of taking a gap year to go work in Australia with the girl he was infatuated with—I raised such a massive scene that I ultimately forced him to go to Harvard with me. After graduation, we got married. The natural ending. He built a tech empire and made me the wife of the richest man in the country. One regret. He died too young. Didn't leave me a single word at the end. Just went. And I — I inherited his billions, and lived comfortably all the way to eighty-eight. But when I died, I saw his soul. His eyes were blood-red. "You forced me onto this path. You took me from the only woman I ever loved. I died with regret. Pray we never meet again in the next life." ...What the fuck? He'd been in that much pain? And I was the only one — happily riding it out? Captions drifted across my vision. [Lmao — how thick is this side character's skin?] [Male lead dies young in agony, she breezes through to 88 as the richest widow in the country.] [The girl he actually loved was the one who flunked her SATs and ran off backpacking, hello???] [They both died young, missed each other, and the side character had the time of her life.] Even I felt bad. When I opened my eyes, I was back — standing in that basement he'd sworn would be his life of freedom, on the day he was supposed to reject his Harvard offer. This time, I am not stopping him from going to Australia.

He is my protector, my guardian, my best friend, but what Nathan does not know is that he is also my crush, the love of my life. I have lived in the shadow of my older best friend for so long, the handsome, and ruthless playboy, king of the streets. I have watched him break several women's hearts, using them and dumping them like they don't matter. He calls me his sweet Angel, the only pure thing in his dark world. He does not believe he is capable of loving me the way I deserve to be loved, but I would show Nathan that deep down, he still has a beating heart. Would I find the courage to show him my heart already beats for him? I am VERA.

In high school, I had finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings to my longtime crush. The next day, he disappeared from my life without a word. Heartbroken and furious, I moved on and started dating someone else, leaving him behind in my memories. Years passed, and I thought I had buried that part of my life. But ten years later, fate threw us back together—this time, he was my new boss. Not just any boss, but my boss’ boss. I had no idea how to face him, but one thing was clear: resigning suddenly felt like my best option.