Lemon Story

Naging ampon ang isang batang babae nang dahil sa mapaminsalang plane crash. Gayundin, ang isang lalaki na babago sa buhay niya.Sa kasamaang palad, kasalanan ng tatay ng batang babae kung bakit naulila ang lalaking ito. Eight years old pa lamang siya nang dalhin siya sa Tremont Estate ng lalaking sampung taon ang tanda sa kanya. Akala niya noong una, dinala siya dito ng lalaki dahil sa kabutihang puso nito, hindi niya alam na nandito siya para pagbayarin ng kasalanan ng kanyang ama.Sampung taong inisip ng babaeng ito na may galit sa kanya ang lalaki, dahil mabait at maingat ito sa ibang tao pero masama ito sa kanya... Ipinagbawal sa kanya ng lalaki na tawagin siyang 'kuya'. Kailangan niyang tawagin ang lalaki sa pangalan nito - Siya si Mark Tremont, paulit-ulit niyang sasambitin ang pangalan na Mark Tremont hanggang sa tumatak ito sa kanyang isipan...

When life gives you lemon, make lemonade, but what do you do when lemonade is served instead of lemons? I think I'm in deep shit and I don't know how to get out. I was sold to a Mafia underboss, not technically, but he claimed me, a ruthless one at that. I know it's crazy but I'll escape no matter what, I will break these shackles and fly freely like a bird, and if that meant spilling blood, then I am so ready.

A plane crash had orphaned her... he too, shared the exact same fate. However, his misfortune was all her father’s doing.She was at the young age of eight when he, who was ten years older, brought her to the Tremont Estate. She thought this kind gesture came from the good will of his heart. Little did she know, it was for retribution.For ten years, she had always thought that he hated her. He was gentle and benevolent to the world, but never towards her…He forbade her from calling him ‘brother’. She could only call him by his name - Mark Tremont, Mark Tremont, over and over again till it was ingrained deeply in her head...

Kecelakaan pesawat telah membuat sang gadis yatim piatu ... dan juga sang anak lelaki , mereka berbagi nasib yang sama. Kemalangan ini adalah perbuatan dari sang ayah dari anak lelaki.Perempuan ini berusia delapan tahun ketika si anak lelaki, yang sepuluh tahun lebih tua, membawanya ke Tremont Estate. Si gadis kecil berpikir bahwa sikap baik ini berasal dari niat baik hati si lelaki kecil. Padahal ia tak sadar, bahwa ini adalah sebuah harga yang ia harus bayar.Selama sepuluh tahun, si Gadis selalu berpikir bahwa sang lelaki membencinya. Lelaki ini lembut dan baik hati kepada semua orang, tapi tidak pernah baik terhadapnya ...Si anak lelaki ini melarangnya memanggilnya 'saudara'. Dia hanya bisa memanggilnya dengan namanya - Mark Tremont, Mark Tremont, berulang kali sampai itu tertanam dalam di kepalanya ...

After I studied and lived in Descensio for five years, I finally graduated and was ready to return to my home country to take over my dad's company. When I arrived at the Sullivan Group building, I took a picture and posted it on my Instagram story with the caption. 'Since you're the man I love most, I'm here to see you immediately after graduation.' Yet, a woman appeared out of nowhere and slapped me as soon as I arrived at the company's lobby. "It's her! She's the hussy! She had seduced my husband back in high school. Now that my husband has become the director, she shamelessly showed up here to flirt with him. So, I want you girls to beat her up. I'll take the blame if anything happens." While the woman was cooking up a story about me seducing Marcus Lane, a director of Sullivan Group, others around simply looked on coldly and judged me. She slashed my limited-edition bag to pieces and smashed the expensive seal I wanted to give my dad. "You're just a gold digger wearing and buying fake luxury goods. It's just a few hundred dollars. I can still afford to pay you." However, little did she know that everything I had was real. Even if she and her director husband worked for the rest of their lives, they would never be able to afford to pay for the damages.

Setelah kekasih masa kecil tunanganku tahu aku memiliki penyakit jantung bawaan, dia dengan sengaja mencampurkan minuman energi konsentrasi tinggi ke dalam sampanyeku. Setelah aku meminumnya, detak jantungku tiba-tiba meningkat, rasa sakit di jantung menerpaku. Aku dengan panik merobek satu-satunya obat darurat yang aku bawa, namun air untuk aku minum obat telah diganti dengan air lemon berkonsentrasi tinggi. Setelah aku meminumnya, seketika wajahku menjadi pucat pasi, akhirnya tidak tahan dan terjatuh ke lantai. “Air lemon mengandung Vitamin C, lebih membantu mengatasi mabuk dan menjaga kesehatan.” Charlotte tertawa terbahak-bahak, dia menyilangkan tangannya sambil menatap ke arah tunanganku, bos Geng Rock Roller. “Ethan, akting tunanganmu yang seorang aktris ini benar-benar hebat.” “Selama bertahun-tahun aku menjadi dokter, tidak pernah lihat orang yang minum sedikit sampanye dan air lemon, malah bisa merasa tidak enak badan seperti ini.” Aku menggigit bibirku hingga hampir berdarah, menahan air mata yang muncul di mataku karena kesakitan dan menggenggam celana Ethan yang ada di depanku. “Sayang, cepat panggil ambulans, aku sudah tidak tahan!” Sedikit keraguan terlihat di mata Ethan, namun dengan cepat terhentikan oleh para tamu di sekitar. “Sudahlah, jangan akting lagi, mana ada orang yang mati karena minum sedikit sampanye dan air lemon.” “Ya benar, kamu hanya iri dengan Charlotte yang naik jabatan, tidak ingin bersulang untuknya, kan?” Seketika Ethan kembali ke ekspresi dinginnya, dia melangkah maju, langsung melepaskan tanganku yang menggenggam celananya. “Charlotte itu dokter, ada dia di sini, kamu tidak akan kenapa-napa di pesta.” Aku pun tidak memohon padanya lagi, langsung mengirim pesan darurat kepada ayahku.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"