Mahal Kong Ina Tula

My husband only married me for a family alliance, but his heart was always with his first love. To please her, he even threw her a grand wedding. He forced me to play the wedding march at their ceremony. When I hit a single wrong note, he stood by as she drove steel needles through my fingers. “Weren’t you so proud of being a pianist? Then I’ll take that away from you.” “This is my revenge for forcing me into this marriage!” Later, I got pregnant. However, Yaron Hayes, my husband, left for an extravagant trip abroad with Ellie Jensen. When he finally returned and saw my swollen belly, he immediately assumed I had cheated. He locked me in a closet, forcing me to endure a brutal childbirth alone—one that cost me my life. Yet when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the Hayes family arranged our marriage. This time, I let go of my foolish devotion. I booked a flight to study abroad in half a month. “The sky is vast, and birds are meant to be free. It's time for me to follow my own path.”

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

#ENTRY FOR:#1 Inescapable Bondage: Becoming the Forbidden Possession of the Mafia Boss Late at night, a drunk Eugene finds himself deep in a New York back alley to relieve himself when he witnesses a murder. Momentarily stunned by the killer's appearance, he tries to escape before being discovered, but the killer's gun barrel points toward Eugene... The blonde killer, called Valentine, proposes to the witness Eugene that if he can guess the flavor of the candy in his mouth, he'll let him live. Emboldened by alcohol, Eugene steals a kiss from the killer to taste the candy. However, the blonde killer says he's changed his mind and points the gun at him again...

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

Book 5 of The Alpha's Mate Who Cried Wolf. Everything is going great in the world of Mysteria, but not so much in the Celestial world, where the Deities live. Atlanta, jealous of her sister Selene, the Moon Goddess, wants everyone to be punished and suffer from her wrath. Setting Thypon, the God of monsters, free and sends him to Mysteria during the midsummer solstice to destroy the world. It's now left up to Nina and her friends to vanquish Thypon, but it may take Nina and Magnus more than just magic, but a sudden change of fate in order to save Mysteria.

All it took was a gunshot to have this criminal fucking me senseless. I'd spent months trying to bring down Antonio, the criminal I swore to put behind bars. I even set a trap for him, using someone close as bait. But instead of going down in chains, Antonio offered himself to me, in exchange for freedom. I should have said no, I should have followed the mission. But as a lonely divorcee craving warmth, how could I resist the way he touched me? The way his fingers made me forget the rules I live by? This wasn't the plan. My boss didn't send me here to get addicted to my enemy. Yet every secret night with Antonio leaves me wanting more, and drags me deeper into his dangerous world. He's supposed to die for his crimes, but unfortunately, the real crime is how badly I want him. And if the news gets out, I won't just lose my job– I'll lose my life.

I was with a fishmonger for seven years. Every night, he pinned me beneath him, reckless and wild. Until one day, he took off his bloodstained apron and came clean–he was getting engaged to Sophia, the Bilotti heiress. Only then did I learn that he was the Don of the Colleo family. “Hahaha! You fooled around with Ms. Mancini for seven years, only to take another delicate young lady’s hand in marriage. Surely, she’s going to come at you.” “Don Colleo, you should keep things sweet with her.” His men’s laughter echoed in my ears. “What’s the rush? I’ve broken her well enough these past seven years. If you don’t mind, you can have her for a couple of days. Evelyn… flexible.” On the day of Vincent’s engagement party, I handed the evidence of his crimes to the police. As the sirens ripped open the city night, someone called out my name. I smiled and leaped from the eighteenth floor.

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Then he pulled out his phone and sent me a message: [No matter where you are, come back immediately and sign the donation consent form.] [Don't be so selfish! Kelly is seriously ill. If she doesn't get a transplant soon, she'll die. It's just bone marrow—I'm not asking for your life!] [If you keep refusing, I'll stop paying for your mother's medical bills!] Caden… I died the moment you walked away from the ski resort with Kelly. The avalanche buried me and our unborn child beneath the snow. My mother, in her desperate attempt to save me, was torn apart by wild wolves. How could you not know?