I Think I M Falling In Love

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

Every she-wolf in Crescent Ridge knew the Nightwood name. Lola did not. She grew up in the pack orphanage with no bloodline sponsor, no rich family background, no seat among the pack’s royalties. Some wolves were born into power. Others had to fight for every inch. Lola fought. She worked day and night, building something out of nothing until the Moon Goddess finally blessed her with a fated mate—Alpha Tristain Herdez. He was Powerful, respected, desired by every she-wolf. Five years after their wedding, their house was still empty. The pack physician revealed the truth: Tristain could never father a child. Lola kept his secret and buried herself in work, building a company that all of Texas admired. Then she collapsed during a press conference. Stage four cancer. Less than a year to live. While she prepared to leave a legacy behind, Tristain returned home one day with a newborn, claiming the baby was abandoned at the pack gate. But the child had Tristain’s face and her best friend’s eyes. And Lola was running out of time to uncover the truth.

Kashmir is a very beautiful woman but has no idea how beautiful she is and naïve when it comes to men. She has never been in love until she had an accident while on vacation but was helped by a stranger that also took her breath away. She was smitten instantly when her eyes landed on him. The moment Amir set his eyes on Kashmir on the day of the accident, he already knew that he loved her at the first sight. He decided to get to know her upon knowing that they stay in the same hotel but unfortunately, he had no chance to make the first step because she already left and went back to her homeland. What did destiny have in store for Kashmir and Amir? How will their path cross again?

I was always the second choice — the shadow, the secret daughter. I watched her savor the image I built for her, watched her take everything from me without a second thought — my paintings, my boyfriend, and now… my life. I thought being married to him would finally change my life. But I was wrong… He was cold and unbearable. Yet, for some reason, I couldn’t ignore the strange feeling I had toward him. His cold gaze made me feel safe instead of scared. And every time he was around… I wanted to run into his arms. Little did I know, he would become the most important person in my life. I was falling for him. And now my so-called sister wants him too. But this time… I won’t let her take what’s mine.

I woke up to the morning sun shining dimly into my room, directly into my face. The feeling of a rough hand resting lightly on my stomach, I turn over and my eyes widen with shock. How the hell did my Chief end up in my bed? What did I do last night? I tried my hardest to remember what all went down at the mandatory command picnic… I remember going out to a bar outside of base. I remember dancing, after running into a friend from my previous command, that left a year after I got there, because she got transferred to a new command. I remember her buying me shots, to celebrate our reunion and working together again. But then everything went blank….

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."

On my 18th birthday, my adoptive uncle, Roderick Campbell, discovers my journal. He immediately starts berating me. "How could you have such dirty thoughts about me, Savannah? I never would've expected you to be like this!" I apologize to him and say I should never have developed feelings for him. However, he still banishes me abroad. Then, he has a grand wedding with his first love. Later, I return to the country with a child. Roderick looks at me in astonishment. "Who is this kid?" I hold the child closer. "My son. He's three this year." I turn to Danny Tucker and say, "Say hi, Danny."

Sabrina didn't even see it coming. In her defense, she didn’t mean to fall for him. It just happened. She and Ivan Golovin weren't supposed to exist but he was everything she wanted. But he's forbidden. He was her mother's best friend. And falling in love with him would cost her everything. She falls for the man not knowing he's the monster who wants to kill her.

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.