Mr. Right Came Late

Nita’s marriage crashed when her husband longtime lover returned to town. Shattered and heartbroken, she files for divorce. After divorce, she gets to know that her family’s company was about to be taken over by a man because of the debt they owed him. The man was the renowned billionaire, Willow Bryan. Using the debt as a yardstick, he made sure Nita became his wife on a laid down condition. How will their relationship thrive when secrets about their past begins to be revealed? Will Nita be able to bear it all?

I confirmed Vincent Lowe was cheating on me on the day of our third wedding anniversary. The dining table was filled with dishes, yet he barely touched his fork before heading out the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. His answer was unnervingly straightforward. "A friend's treating me to dinner. Cassidy Mason—you know her, right? It's a free meal. It'd be a waste not to accept." An hour later, however, I received a voice message from Cassidy. In the message, Vincent's voice was lighter and livelier—so different from how he ever sounded with me. "They say you should marry someone you can truly enjoy a meal with. I really regret meeting you so late. If only I had known you earlier, I would've married you instead." I listened in silence. Then, alone at the table, I finished every last bite of the meal I had prepared. Afterward, I left a divorce agreement behind.

My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on. She needed a transplant. Fast. But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead. That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope. That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time. All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her." Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way. And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.

Dulcenea Mara Grange, born without some one in her side since the day that she was born. She was an orphan, someone sees her outside the orphanage, in a rainy night. The woman took her, and carried her inside. Since then, Dulcenea grew up on the side of the Mothers who's taking over the orphanage. Life is almost fine, but it's full of surprises. The orphanage, got burnt. All of the people inside died. Luckily, Dulcenea survived. But all of them left her, she's alone again. For her, there's no since of living in this globe anymore. That's why she decide to ruin her life. Many mens are chasing her, some of them are the boss that she deceived. Dulcenea had this very enchanting beauty that maybe no one can surpass. That's why it's easy for her to make them fall for her, and use their money to buy all what she wants. She's done beings chased by them. That's why she decide to end her life. Dulcenea, is alone. No one left for her, there's no sense of living anymore. When she's about to commit the suicide, a beggar suddenly approach her. Saying such mysterious and unbelievable things that make her cringe. Is this the really end for her? What if there's something more bigger than she expect? Can she handle it? In this world, nothing is sure. We can't tell if we won't try.

3 years after getting married, I am still a virgin. "Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!

News of my groom's death arrived, but I shed no tears. Instead, I quickly reclaimed his shares and had his death officially recorded. Why? I was reborn. In my previous life, my family had adopted three boys to accompany me since childhood, all of whom were potential candidates to be my husband. As the heiress of the wealthiest family in the country, my father feared I wouldn't be happy marrying someone else we weren't familiar with. I chose Jayden, the most capable of the three brothers—but just three days after the wedding, he passed away. In my grief, I gave up on remarriage. With Jesse and Joel's persuasion, I lived the rest of my life as a widow. Upon reaching eighty, I went to Massalia, where we once pledged our love. There, I encountered Jayden…who had supposedly died sixty years ago! He was living with my maid, who had gone missing decades ago, surrounded by children and grandchildren, living a happy and contented life. When I realized I had been deceived my whole life, I was so enraged that my vision suddenly darkened. I died of a brain hemorrhage on the spot. When I awoke, I had returned to the day the news of his death had arrived. Let's see how a man who should have died intended to continue living!

It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it. Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married. I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship. I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them. I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive. Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application. After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously: "So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?" I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart— This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application. After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced. But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?

Nang tumuntong si Kylie sa edad na bente uno, noon niya lang napagtanto ang kakaibang kakisigan ng kaniyang Ninong Ben. Nung huling kita niya pa rito ay nung bata pa siya at wala lang sa kanya ang mga karga nito. Hindi niya lubos akalain na sa muling pagkikita nila ay kakaibang pagtingin na ang meron siya sa kaniyang Ninong. Paano kung gumising na lamang siya na ang tanging kasagutan lamang sa init na nararamdaman ay ang haplos at palo ng kaniyang Ninong Ben?

My husband's true love developed acute kidney failure, and I was the only matching donor. To save her life, he forced me to terminate my pregnancy at six months. Despite his gentle tone, he said the most heart-wrenching words, "Can't you be a little kinder? You're just losing a child, but she's losing her life." I resisted with every fiber of my being, but he threatened his own life to force my hand. On the operating table, both my child and I died. Meanwhile, his true love's transplant was a success, and she lived. Although the outcome was exactly what he wanted, he spiraled into madness upon hearing news of my death.

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.