Luigi Middle Finger

Hindi nag-uulit ng babae si Luigi Donovan. Kapag naikama na niya ang babae, hindi na niya ulit hinahawakan pa. Pero nang makilala niya si Lavender Salvacion sa isang nightclub at nagkaroon sila ng one-night stand, nasira ni Luigi ang sarili niyang panuntunan. Hindi niya mapigilang isipin kung paano siya nito ginawang maghangad pa ng higit. At sa gabing iyon din, nasa desperadong sitwasyon si Lavender kaya nauwi siya sa pagnanakaw ng pera kay Luigi. Si Luigi ang tipo ng taong hindi hinahayaan na makaligtas nang walang parusa ang mga gumawa sa kanya ng mali. Hiningi niya ang kapalit ng ninakaw sa paraang hindi kailanman inakala ni Lavender, ang magbuntis para sa tagapagmana ni Luigi.

“Kahit sabay pa tayong nangako sa altar, wala kang aasahan sa’kin. I’m not going to be the husband you want.” Ang mga salitang ito mula kay Luigi Ibarra ay parang kutsilyong tumagos sa puso ni Nami Santiago—isang mayaman ngunit nerdy na babae na matagal nang may lihim na paghanga kay Luigi. Si Luigi, ang pinakasikat na aktor sa bansa, ay napilitang magpakasal kay Nami upang mapanatili ang legacy ng kanyang pamilya. Ngunit kahit kailan, wala itong patak ng pagmamahal para sa kanya. She was the complete opposite of his type, and she knew it. Pero masyado lang talaga siyang martir. Hanggang isang gabi, nagbago ang lahat. Nahuli niyang may ibang babae si Luigi—ang ka-love team nitong si Sasha Alvarez. Sa puntong iyon, tuluyan na niyang binitawan si Luigi. Pero kasabay ng kanyang paglayo ay natuklasan niyang nagdadalang-tao siya. Four years have passed, at nabaliktad ang sitwasyon. Si Luigi na ngayon ang naghahabol nang malaman niyang may anak sila ni Nami. Will she choose to forgive him, or will she move on and choose Arren Corpuz, another famous actor who stood by her side when everything fell apart?

I was reborn. Right back to the day I adopted Peter. The wind cut sharp, baby cries slicing through the cold. That's when it hit me—this was the day Stuart Pete, my oh-so-loving husband, dumped his illegitimate child right in my path after work. He knew me too well. The second I picked the kid up, he'd spin it into an adoption, making the boy ours. Last time, I fell for it. This time? I walked away without a second thought. Later, I heard the kid got pneumonia from being left out in the freezing cold—fever so bad, it wrecked him for life. I laughed until my stomach hurt. What I didn't see coming? Peter was reborn too—about to experience the life he was meant to have.

When my parents got old, they needed someone to take care of them. Katerina—my younger sister—was off to Amiraka with her smug husband Chris. Meanwhile, I was crammed into a two-bedroom in Bellavaro with my husband Pavel, who drove a taxi. Mom had no retirement savings, so guess who she dumped herself on? Yep—me. Dad took the cash and ran straight to Katerina. Our place was tiny, but we still gave Mom the master bedroom. She hated it. Constant complaints, constant drama. According to her, life with me was pure misery. Every night, she'd hop on video call with Katerina, gushing about Amiraka like it was heaven, while throwing shade at me for not "taking care of her properly." Meanwhile, I was drowning—trying to hold it together for Mom, help my daughter prep for exams, support a husband with spine problems, and check in on aging in-laws. Mom didn't care. She wanted a plane ticket to Amiraka to party for Katerina's birthday. I snapped. We had a blowout fight, and she collapsed—brain hemorrhage. Even in her hospital bed, she stared me down, whining Katerina's name like a broken record. Then she spat out, "I should've never picked a useless daughter like you!" My chest cracked in half. I blacked out. When I woke up—I was ten years younger. Back to the day they decided who'd get stuck taking care of them. This time, Mom didn't wait. "I want Katerina to take care of me. It's my turn to enjoy life!"

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

By year's end, I'd closed a huge deal and snagged a $2.5 million bonus. The company even sent me on early maternity leave—nice perk for being eight months pregnant. Pauline found me lounging on the couch. "Why aren't you at work?" I cracked a joke. "Got fired. Guess I'll be stuck here playing housewife." Her response? A slap across my back. "Then get off and do the laundry! You're having a girl, not a son, and you think you can sit around like some princess?" My husband, Logan, walked in right then. He just pulled her into the nursery. Feeling hurt, I switched on the hidden cameras I'd secretly installed. I thought maybe he'd defend me. Yeah, no. What I uncovered? It was so much worse. Twisted secret after twisted secret.

“Who would have thought goody two shoes Tatiana Olivera is a nasty sl*t who fantasies about f*ck*ng her step brother?” Hasan continues his teasing. He inserts in middle finger in my mouth and I greedily s*ck on it, picturing it to be his c*ck. Hasan’s mouth parts open, his brows cresting as he watches me s*ck his middle finger like a kid sucking on a candy cane. I frowned when he pulled out his middle finger. He grabs my chin with a fierceness that sent me on edge. “Open your mouth.” He orders and I obey. He takes in a deep breath as though calming himself and before I knew it, hot liquid drops into my mouth. Did.. did he just spit in my mouth? It tastes divine. It tastes like him. And I want more. “Swallow.” I meet his gaze as I gulp down his saliva. A proud smile appears on his face. “There’s my good little sl*t.” ***** I hate Hasan Olivera. I can’t stand him. The way he walks into the room like he owns the place, the smug smirk that says he already knows what I am thinking. He’s insufferably cocky, sharp-tongued, insanely hot and fully aware of it. And those eyes? Dark, knowing, endlessly amused by the fact that, no matter how much I pretend otherwise, I’m completely drawn to him. I want him to f*ck me. I want him to claim me. I want him to be mine because I belong to him. But he's my step brother. And I hate my step brother. -------

After they had divorced for 5 years, when Adina accidentally saw her ex-husband, Tyson, and Sophie, who broke her marriage, she gave them a middle finger, which made Tyson chuckle. The next morning, Adina woke up and found the man sleeping beside her was her ex-husband, Tyson. They had last night!!! Mary cursed herself and sneaked out of the room. Then she met Sophie , she threw the cash on her face and said mocked, "Thanks for your fiance's HARD work last night. Here is what he deserves."

You think of my love as a burden and can't see my pain and suffering. Love ensnares them in a world filled with disappointment. What will the female protagonists in the stories do once they've had enough of being let down?