Maria Clara Monologue Script Tagalog Novels & Stories

I spent five years helping my boyfriend Marco rise to the position of Don. I nearly died countless times, but I didn't care; I loved him. He used to look at me tenderly and promised to propose to me publicly at his Don succession ceremony. But on that very day, he held the hand of another Mafia Principessa Sophia Romano and announced their engagement. To completely get rid of me, Sophia pulled a stack of photos from her bag and slammed them into my face. "See for yourself! She's been sleeping around to get intel!" In the picture, I was leaning into a man's arms. I tried to explain, but Marco interrupted me. "I always knew you were lowborn, but I didn't realize you were this cheap." "Get out!" Marco pointed at the door. "Elena, you are exiled from the family. Never let me see you again." I finally saw this man for who he truly was. He was completely subservient to me when he needed my help to seize territory, but after becoming the Godfather, he needed a more distinguished Donna, and therefore no longer needed me. I sneered; they had no idea that the man in the picture was my brother, the Don of the most powerful Corleone family. Sophia’s family was nothing compared to the Corleone family. I stopped arguing and simply turned and left. But when my true identity was finally exposed, he crawled back to me, weeping and begging for my forgiveness.

My husband is the Don of the entire New York East Coast Mafia. For ten years, I dimmed my own light to be his perfect silent partner, the dutiful wife who gave him the perfect heir. I thought we were the lovers who wou ld die for each other. Then came a mere associat. My husband and son had formed an alliance with the woman who seem want to take my place. But they just said, "Elena, you have the crown and the kingdom. She has nothing but us. Be generous." So, to make her smile, my husband trampled on my dignity again and again. To please her, my son affectionately calls her "Mom." In their eyes, I was the iron wall, the woman who would swallow any insult for the sake of the family honor. Until the fire. My husband locked me inside the burning room, to let me "reflect" on my jealousy. He didn't know that the fire didn't kill me. But it burned away the last ash of my love for him.

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

I was a human, but my husband Damien was one of the noblest vampires. When I was two months pregnant, I was kidnapped by a traitorous vampire whom Damien had banished, and tortured to death. But my husband Damien, was with his first love Vivienne, accompanying her for her Blood Withering treatment. This is an extremely rare vampire disease that requires human blood of a rare blood type for treatment. Three days ago, he demanded I give my blood to Vivienne. When I refused, telling him I was two months pregnant with our child, his eyes had turned cold. "Stop lying," he had snarled. "You're just being selfish, trying to let Vivienne die." He drove me to the edge of the territory and left me there — a human, alone in the wilds after dark. "Find your own way back since you're so heartless." I stood there in the darkness and was taken by Silas — a rogue vampire Damien had once condemned to punishment. He cut off my limbs. With cruel satisfaction, he called my husband. But Damien simply didn't believe it. His response was brief and cold: "Whatever it is, Vivienne's treatment is more important. She needs me right now." Silas let out a dark laugh. "Well, well... Seems like the great Enforcer values his ex over his own wife." When Damien arrived at the crime scene hours later, he was horrified by the brutality inflicted on the corpse. He raged at the killer for being so savage to a pregnant woman. But he didn't recognize that the mutilated body before him was his own wife — me.

"Are you sure you want this?" The witch slid the vial across the table. "Once I cast the unbinding spell, your Fated Mate connection will dissolve over ten days. On the tenth day, it's permanent. No reversals." I didn't hesitate. "Your name?" She picked up her pen. "Mara Voss." Her hand froze. Everyone in New York's vampire community knew that name. Conrad Levin — the Prince of the New York Dominion, an eight-hundred-year-old monster who had never shown a flicker of attachment to anything — had three years ago announced to the entire supernatural world that he'd found his Fated Mate. A human girl carrying the rarest blood type in existence. Golden blood. Her name was Mara Voss. I held out my wrist. The witch began her work. I opened my phone and booked a one-way ticket to Prague. Departing in exactly ten days. This time, Conrad would never find me.

It was a stormy night when Jem spotted a stranger standing on a bridge in the rain, arms wide open like he was ready to jump off the bridge and end his life. Jem didn't think. He just ran and grabbed him. That one touch changed everything Jem thought he knew about himself. The stranger was Dante Williams. Powerful. Dangerous. And cursed to die before his fortieth birthday, just like every man in his family before him. His father. His grandfather. His great grandfather. All gone too soon. And Dante was next. But then Jem walked into his life. And suddenly the curse had a weakness. Jem is the only person who can save Dante from dying. The problem is nobody told Jem that living under Dante's roof would slowly destroy every wall he built around himself. Nobody warned him that Dante's touch would make him question everything he thought he was. Now Jem is living under Dante's roof, sleeping in his bed, wearing his clothes, sucking his cock, and trying desperately to convince himself that none of this means anything. That he is not curious. That he is not wanting. And that most importantly he is not GAY. But Dante has rules. And rule number one is simple; He doesn't fall in love. He claims. And he was ready to claim Jem in ways that would ruin him for anyone else who ever dared to come close. Now, someone wants them both dead before they figure out what they mean to each other. And the clock is already ticking. Will Dante survive his fortieth birthday or will the curse finally win?

I stretched lazily on the bed, much like a contented kitten, before opening my eyes. Hovering above me was a face that could have been sculpted by the gods—a handsome, well-defined face with sun-kissed golden eyes. My first groggy thought was that Cara had finally brought home a decent, well-groomed man for a change. But…. Why is he in my room? I abruptly shoved him away, ending the spell. "Get off your asshole!" With a scowl on my face, I got up quickly. “Was personal space not mentioned by Clara, huh?” I spoke in an irritated tone. “Clara?” He turned and casually picked up some papers from a nearby table, settling down with an annoying smile. “And who might that be, if I may ask?” He doesn’t even remember her? Asshole “Well, if you must know, Clara—” I started, but my words faltered as something shiny caught my eye. What is..? Then my memories began to flood back. —it’s a damn golden sofa. Shit. Brain Freeze. ~~~ Growing up as the oldest kid on a Chicago farm was no picnic for Mary Johnson. Her folks, good ol' Mr. and Mrs. Becky Johnson, were salt-of-the-earth types, who worked hard on their small farm not far from the gritty backstreets of Chicago. They taught Mary and her siblings the value of hard work, self-value. But as much as Mary loved her family, she dreamed big, but those dreams took a backseat when she needed to step up and help support her family. Then, out of the blue, fate threw her a curveball. A chance in the US came knocking, and Mary didn't hesitate. And then she crossed paths with the Blacks – New York’s high society, dripping with wealth and power, who offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse.

Elizabeth loved romance novels. It was her escape and comfort. One of the things she loved about it were the second male leads. She loved the tragic and kind heroes with their unrequited love for the female protagonists. After dying from an unexpected accident she was transmigrated into the book she was currently reading. Now she is the daughter of her beloved second male lead. She vowed that she will help the SML to find love again. Meanwhile Alphonse Monroe the second male lead woke up and he went back to the past.He realized that he was blinded by the fake white lotus female protagonist. After dying he has another chance to prevent many tragedies in his life. No longer blinded by the female protagonist he vowed to protect his family. Both with new missions in life. The father wants to protect and treasure his second life. While his daughter vowed to find a new love for her father. "Daddy what about her?" She pointed " I think she is perfect to be my new mother" "Auntie can you be my mom?" This is the story of Elizabeth now Lilian Monroe, her twin brother Alec Monroe, and their father the beloved second male lead Alphonse Monroe who just wants to bond with his new found children. original story by Maria Gatchalian cover art by dsby_audrey

Shotgun marriage usually happens when there is an unintended pregnancy resulting in marriage in a hurry or enforced but... not in my case. "Desmond Cro'esnt, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" I looked straight into Desmond's eyes. They are raven black and it does match his long, wavy black hair. "I do," he answered as he smiled innocently at me. Making himself look promising. Then, the priest turned to me. "Neiva Ariella Hillstone, do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" I still can't believe that I'm going to marry this man. He looks happy, waiting for my answer. His white suit is making him look even kinder. The only witness we have here is the priest and his men in black suits, currently pointing a gun right into my head. "Time is running, Neiva. It's either you marry me or you die." His innocent smile turned into a devilish one. This suits him more because this is the real him. And that answered your question. My shotgun marriage happened to be the literal meaning of it. I closed my eyes and deeply breathed before answering, "I do." "You're mine now." He pulled me by my waist and pressed his lips against mine. I am now officially the wife of this Psychopath Billionaire Mafia Boss.

Grace is a horny house wife. All her husband looks for is money to take care of his family. He ignores his physical appearance and marital obligation. The wife is taken up by their shamba boy. She can't be sexually satisfied by the husband any more. It's always the shamba boy...does this escapade with the shamba boy last?