Joelle Anoa'i นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I'm so tired of disappointing myself. I'm so tired of heartbreaks and tears. I'm just so tired. I never thought that love can be so tiring. “I p-promise... if this is the world of getting married to me, to hurt me, t-this would be the last tears I will cry anymore.” I said while crying under the rain. But could I still keep those words? Because my life didn't end here. Flood Voldizépeña is 27 years old. He's actually one of the most fearsome trillionaire of all time. A tall, smart, sexy and handsome guy with beautiful sky-blue eyes, who's breaking my promises slowly and tried to build another world with me. Should I let him? But I don't want to fool myself anymore if in the end he'll just give me heartache and destroy myself. But would he? Like, the world of getting married with a trillionaire? I wonder how it ends like.

I first met you in a nightclub, and you first met me when I was a kid. I did it because I needed money, but you agreed because you wanted revenge. I want to forget about that memory, that cursed night, the one that made me feel worthless. The memory that is the root of all of my problems and the outcomes of your plans. What would have happened if I hadn't met you in the first place? What if I just let my dreams fade away? Should I fight for you and face the consequences, or will I be cursed for the rest of my life?

"Get up, I'm hungry. Cook for me NOW!" The authoritative tone jolted me awake, not giving me a moment to freshen up or even change. We don't sleep side by side; he stays in the master bedroom while I occupy the guest room. He can't stand being near me. It hurts deeply when those words come from him, but it's a recurring pattern. I hurriedly made my way downstairs, still tying the robe around me. In the kitchen, I began preparing his breakfast. You see, I'm his secret wife. No one knows except our parents and a few friends. Since we got married, not a day goes by without him reminding me that he doesn't love me. Not a day goes by without him hurting me. But that's alright because, as I've mentioned, I love him so much that I'm willing to do anything just to earn his love in return. A single tear escaped and fell onto the clove of garlic I was chopping. I quickly wiped it away. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Manang watching me. I took a deep breath to regain my composure before turning to her with a forced smile. "I'm sorry; I got emotional over garlic." I lied.

I thought the divorce would set me free. I thought walking away from my husband would finally give me peace. But I didn’t expect him—my cold, sinfully dangerous stepbrother—to be the one waiting on the other side of my freedom. Rage Roswell doesn’t ask. He takes. And the moment he found out I was no longer married, that I was vulnerable, alone, easy to steal… he stepped in like a storm I couldn’t escape. He pinned me with those cold eyes and said one thing: “You’re mine now.” I should’ve run. I should’ve fought the tension, the heat, the hunger he ignites with just a stare. But he knows every weakness I try to hide. Every tremble. Every breath. Every part of me I shouldn’t be giving him. After the divorce, I thought I was reclaiming my life. Instead, I walked straight into the hands of the man who’s willing to burn everything—everyone—just to claim me. And this time… He won’t let me go.

"I had you once and I'll definitely HAVE YOU BACK AGAIN, and that's a PROMISE." My whole body shivered as he said those words... But I won't show him that I'm scared. I looked at him straight in the eyes with so much bravery even though I'm scared to his so called PROMISE. "You won't." I don't want to go back in his arms again. I don't want to go back to the person who broke my heart before... I don't know why he wants me back but on thing is for sure...

"If choosing the darkness is the way to be with you, then I will. It's either I'll face the same faith or I'll die in peace and let your shadows buried in the depth-down truth of my mind. I want to taste your deadly bloodline then if this is the last time." "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue Baby, I'm sorry? But I need to let you go."

I never believed in second chances. Not after Cynthia. She was my confidant… until death tore her from me and left this mansion echoing with ghosts. Inilibing ko na rin ang puso ko kasabay ng pakamatay ni Cynthia . She was my wife. My peace. My mistake. Then her daughter moved in. Liza. The forbidden reminder of everything I shouldn’t want—young, alive, reckless in ways her mother never was. She looks at me like she sees through the monster I’ve become. Sa tuwing ngingiti siya,  the ache in my chest returns—violent, dangerous, hungry. Every brush of her skin ignites something I can’t bury anymore. I tell myself it’s guilt. I tell myself I’m just protecting her. Pero ang totoo? I want her. Hindi bilang stepdaughter. Not as Cynthia’s child. I want her as mine—completely, ruinously, irredeemably mine. They’ll call me a sinner. A man who crossed the line. Ngunit sa tuwing tinitingnan ako ni Liza, trembling, wanting... I knew I’d already crossed it. I tell myself I’m protecting her, but each night, the lie weakens. Because when she looks at me, it isn’t fear I see—it’s want. And God help me... I want her too. This isn’t love. It’s a beautiful disaster. And I’d burn the world just to feel her breathe my name again.

She's my childhood friend. My favorite obsession. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about her. She was meant to be off-limits, that I could treasure but never touch. But the more I watch her, the more I crave her. She’s mine, whether she realizes it or not. I’ll pull her into my world, wrap her in my obsession, until she’s as consumed by me as I am by her. And when that moment comes, when she finally sees me for who I am now, there’ll be no turning back. Because some obsessions aren’t meant to be fought, they’re meant to be fulfilled.

"When you're running away from your own shadow but it seems it's haunting you in return.." I am Helena Kelandra Morata, a typical girl at first but having a twist personality. I can be a sugar coated girl or a bad-ass bitch. I know how to play, I know how to put a trap and lure boys. But, when I found Michael, the bachelor with a rough and cold attitude, it seems that I was wrong to place those traps, cause all I can feel now is dying...of its pleasure.

Moans. I hear moans. "Ugh! Faster!" I covered my ears like an innocent child hoping that they would quite down. I ran back down the kitchen and drank a glass of water. I'm not paid enough for this. Thinking back and I was already regretting my life decisions— NOT! Now that I have discovered how much of a big womanizer this fiancée of mine is, I think I now have a reason to dump him. Disguised as his maid is so hard just to get intel unto what his true colors actually are. Honestly wasn't the best idea, but it definitely is the most efficient one. I sat on the counter of the kitchen and rested my head on the table over my folded arms. Perhaps a nap might help innocent me up. Just when slumber finally came, I heard sloppy footsteps coming down the staircase. The "young master" finally finished his business. I went to meet them at the bottom of the stairs to greet his lady friend safety on her way home. "I can't wait for tomorrow night," she said in a seductive tone and batted her lashes on him. I held back my urge to barf. Her arms are all over him as if she was the drunk one when in fact it was my good for nothing fiancé. "You're too loud," Timothee replied as it was his way of rejecting girls. And yes, another girl cried that night. She won't be expecting to sleep with him again. As the lady went out the door, I look at the young master. His hair wet, topless and jeans unbuttoned. "Don't drool over me, scullery maid." And with that he went back up. Jerk!