Mystic Messenger Phone Calls

Deep in the night, I saw my son, Carl Turner, drinking a bottle of milky white liquid. I was shocked by the discovery. Our next door neighbor was a pregnant lady, and to top it off, she was the mother of Carl's collegemate. Right after that, he whipped out his phone and played a questionable video, all the while working his other hand under the sheets. In the video was none other than the intimate moments he shared with that pregnant lady! I felt an itch in my heart as I thought of the pregnant lady's daughter, who had just reached legal age. The supple body of a young woman and those alluring curves in all the right places… Since she took advantage of my son, then she had no one to blame for me taking her daughter.

At one in the morning, the general manager posted the project assignments in the group chat and tagged everyone. I reviewed my responsibilities carefully, going through each detail to make sure I understood exactly what was expected of me. When I was done, I typed a simple "OK" and hit send. Two seconds later, my phone rang. It was him. As soon as I answered, his voice came through, icy and sharp, filled with unmistakable disgust. "Eric, I'm very disappointed in you. I must have been blind to trust you with anything important." My mind went completely blank. "What… what do you mean?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. What he said next was something I never could have imagined.

Forbidden romance between a nun and a biker. "Forgive me father, for I will sin." A nun, too innocent for the world of ways catches the eye of the notorious bike gang's heir, a demon known for his cunning nature. What could go wrong, right? Just that the notorious demon hunts her down, breaks down all her her beliefs and hell bent of making her sin for him. "My canary," he calls her, his intention clear. He wants to set his canary free from the clutches of the religion. But will the canary go with him willingly, or will he have to kidnap his bride? To know more, follow me along to know their story.

My new dormmate thinks my boyfriend is a player and advises me to break up with him. After I politely reject her, she gets mad and complains about me online, saying I'm love-addled brain. Her video goes viral, and the online community calls me an ingrate who doesn't know what's good for me. When I see the smug smile on my dormmate's face, I slap her without even batting an eye. "Stop acting like you're a champion for feminism when all you can think of is making yourself seem better than other women!"

My fiancé is the heir to a mafia empire. For seven years, I believed our love was the one true thing in a world built on lies. Then, on the night of our engagement party, I found him holding another woman — my own half-sister, the daughter of our family’s oldest enemy — whispering words that shattered everything: "I regret everything. Come back to me, and I’ll call off the wedding." I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I made a phone call instead. Three weeks later, on what should have been our wedding day, I erased my identity and vanished from his world. But not before making sure our wedding would be one he — and every family in the underworld — would never forget.

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

Lailah Gazth had her whole life planned, but her world falls apart when her best friend Alison dies in a car accident, caused by nothing more and nothing less than the young criminal Azael Grimm or so he calls himself ... Lailah decides to take a risk and report him, getting a trial in which they will debate whether he is guilty or not, but that will be in three months, the same time Azael has to make her fall in love and prevent her from testifying against him and thus not go to jail. Will she get it? What consequences could she bring to her after her? Even a demon can fall for an angel ... and then he kisses me.

Yvonne Chapman risks her life to save Marcus Cunningham. She loses her hearing in the process and ends up being mocked and insulted by his friends. Later, she runs the risk of becoming brain-dead when she insists on undergoing surgery—she wants to regain her hearing. The surgery is successful. She plans to share her joy with Marcus. However, he calls his first love's name when they're in bed together. It turns out he's never forgotten her. Yvonne's love for him dies. She realizes there are more things in life for her. She goes abroad, leaving everything behind, including Marcus.

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

After the evening study session, I was just about to return to the dorm when my first boyfriend, the school's valedictorian and undisputed top student, suddenly tore across the courtyard toward me. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and, in full view of a crowd of stunned students, dragged me into a frantic run toward the front gates. I exclaimed, "Julian, have you lost your mind? Graduation's six months away. Are you really trying to run off with me now?" I struggled the whole way, twisting and pulling against him, but his grip never loosened. "Autumn, don't ask any questions. Just come with me. Hurry!" he said, his voice trembling with panic. We fled the school, jumped into a taxi in the middle of the night, and rushed to another city, where we checked into a rundown budget motel. Arms folded and brow furrowed, I glared at him. "So you hauled me out of school like a lunatic just to hole up in a cheap motel?" His cheeks turned bright red. He flailed his hands in frantic denial, then thrust a phone into my hands. I barely had time to unlock the phone and start dialing my parents before a breaking news alert flashed across the screen. My eyes locked on the screen, and I went rigid with shock. The headline reported, 'Mass Death at Blackwood High: All 5,000 students and faculty found dead last night after experiencing catastrophic bleeding. Only two students who skipped the study session survived.' I looked up at Julian in horror. He was staring at the screen too, his face white as paper, cold sweat running down his forehead. "You knew, didn't you?" I asked. "What the hell is going on?"