Minority Report Mga Nobela at Kwento

I secured a big deal for the company and was promoted to manager. However, I overheard my boss' secretary gossiping in the pantry, saying that I was brainless and only got where I was by using my body. I was so angry that I wanted to report it to the police. Surprisingly, her husband stopped me and forced his wife to bow and apologize to me, begging for forgiveness. Things got worse on the next day. Someone shared my inappropriate photos in the company group chat along with records of me supposedly checking into a hotel with a man. My colleagues looked at me with contempt, as if they all knew what was happening but refused to speak up. Even my boss fired me, saying I had moral issues. My husband immediately divorced me when he found out, took our daughter away, and left me with nothing. Neighbors pointed fingers and whispered about me. I was so overwhelmed that I lost my senses and was killed by a car crash. When I opened my eyes, I returned to the day I was promoted.

When I'm on my break, I decide to help my neighbor, Yvonne Cook, fix the gas valve, which has been leaking gas. But she instantly lodges a report, saying that I've gone against the rules. She demands compensation for the shock that she's suffered as well. I don't bother defending myself. Instead, I just write a reflection report. After that, my squad leader sentences me to disciplinary confinement. Yvonne wastes no time gloating in the tenants' group chat. "It's time to teach these power-abusers a good lesson, anyway!" Three days later, a fire breaks out in Yvonne's apartment. Thick plumes of dark smoke keep rising from the burning apartment. Yvonne wails as she bangs on my door and pleads with me. "Please crack open the door and put out the fire!" I can only sigh from behind my front door. "I'm under disciplinary suspension right now, so I can't break protocol. You should wait for the fire truck instead."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina. He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her. I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House. The suite meant for the future Luna. My suite. To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna." But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand. Six weeks pregnant. They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me. My heart shattered into ash. My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony. Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild. "I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

When I was nine, I was caught in the blast while trying to save Joel Yorks, and the loud wave took away my hearing. Since then, I have had to wear hearing aids. Joel felt guilty. He insisted on having my hand in marriage. With his eyes welling up in tears, he swore, “Helen, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” However, when I turned eighteen… Everything changed because he wanted to please the prettiest girl in the school. He ripped off my hearing aid in front of her and our classmates and said in disdain, “I’ve had enough of you being a burden. I really wish you hadn’t survived that day when you were nine. It would have been better if you were dead.” I clutched my audiology report and stayed silent. When I got home, I quietly revised my college applications and formally broke the engagement along with my parents. Joel and I would go our separate ways after that. We would not need to meet again.

My fiancée, Diana, is the princess of a powerful New York Mafia family. She claims to love me deeply, yet a month before our wedding, she told me she wanted to have a baby with her childhood sweetheart, claiming it was a "family arrangement." I refused. But she brought it up every single day, pushing me into a corner as if my consent didn’t matter. Two weeks before the wedding, I received a pregnancy report from a private clinic. That’s when I found out she was already nearly a month pregnant. She never intended to wait for my permission. In that moment, I finally woke up. Our years of history were nothing but a fragile illusion. So, I canceled the wedding. I burned every single gift she had ever given me. On the day we were supposed to say "I do," I boarded a flight to Italy to pursue my advanced degree in clinical medicine. I officially accepted a mission with Doctors Without Borders and cut all ties with the Mafia family. From that day on, Diana and I were finished. For good.

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."

"What is it?" "It's called Dissociative Amnesia Disorder." "Well, what's that?" "It's a memory disorder. It explains your memory loss of that night. But not about how you could forgot your father's name." *** I hate it. I hate that I couldn't remember the name of the person who took care of me. The person who raised me, the person who loved me. I spent years trying to find out. I've read every book, every mission report, every newspaper in the country. But, nada. Nothing of that incident ever reported. It's like it never happened. But I know it did. I remembered it, every single moment. Until everything turns dark. But little did I know, the answer was staring at me the whole time. *** Katrina Clyde, a brilliant girl, the best agent from the Spy Division of La Reu Inc. She's surrounded by friends that support her, whether in the organization or outside the organization. When got called into an important mission, she then found out that this mission could lead her to her missing memory. One that she thought she wanted to retrieve.

The year I was at my lowest, a wealthy family came for me, claiming I was their real son. The school beauty I had secretly admired was officially my fiancée. While I was still stunned by the surprise, suddenly, comments started scrolling across my view. [This is the turning point. The male lead’s parents take the supporting male home, forcing him to drop out. His fiancée gets him sick, and in the end, they see him as bad luck and brutally kill him.] My hand froze around the paternity test report. My father’s eyes glistened with tears as he took the report from me. “My child, you’ve suffered so much all these years. Don’t worry, come home with us and rest. You’re our son, and the family company is enough to support you for life. You don’t even need to take the SATs.” The school beauty lowered her head, her voice soft and teasing in my ear. “Levi, be good. Studying is too hard. From now on, I’ll take care of you.”

My five years of marriage to Elliot Kline turned out to be a cruel joke. "For tomorrow's monthly report meeting, I'd like Yvette to present your branding plan," Elliot said, not looking up from his desk. I put down the files I was organizing, certain I had misheard. "What?" "Yvette just joined the company. She needs a chance to prove herself. Your plan is perfect for that." He lifted his head, his tone brooking no argument. "But that's my entry for the Veriania Creative Competition," I protested. "You win awards every year. What's the harm in letting her have it this time?" He shrugged, adding, "We need to nurture new talent." I stared at the man with whom I had shared a bed for five years. His face suddenly felt so unfamiliar to me. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I poured into that plan? And you're giving it to a new intern?" "Don't be so petty. It's just a plan. My decision is made." My fists clenched, anger surging through me.

Isabella Cohen had better things to do than listen to her father go on and on about her getting married to the latest man who had impressed him, as if her father wasn't fucking his assistant every Thursday and Saturday. So, when she was given the choice to either marry Ethan Hawthorn (the biggest asshole on the planet with an even bigger ego), or be disowned, you better believe she packed her bags, transferred money to her secret account and took the first plane from New York to Italy. Stephan Ferrari was bored. Now you might think being head of the Italian Mafia was exciting and full of adventure, but you would be wrong. Stephan had killed all his enemies, partied for a week straight at the best clubs in Italy (which all belonged to him) and fucked women of all types, yet he will still left with an empty feeling inside. So, when he got report that the leader of the American Mafia's daughter was seen at Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport, well he may have found his new Queen. And if he could ransom said queen to toy with the Cohen family, then that was an added bonus