National Catholic Reporter

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 35,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm trying to sleep."

My boyfriend cheated. So I made his father mine. I didn’t get into gaming for the fame. I did it to survive. Growing up in a cramped apartment with a worn-out mom and a string of violent men, League of Legends was the only escape I had. After she died, it became all I had left. Now I’m the star ADC at Blackwood University, playing for a national title and the future I clawed my way toward. I should’ve seen it coming—my captain boyfriend screwing my best friend. I didn’t cry. I plotted. And Marcus Cross, our ruthless coach and my ex’s father, is the perfect weapon. What starts as revenge turns into something else. Something darker breaking rules . Is it still revenge if it feels this good?

After joining the nation's top research lab as a sophomore, everyone assumes I've taken shortcuts to get there. Mom throws away the handmade gift I had spent days crafting and says with disdain, "I don't have a daughter who's this shameless." Andreas Fitzgerald, my fiance, doesn't hold back, either. He warns coldly, "Remember your place as Mrs. Fitzgerald." Later, when my younger sister, Elaine Wilde, destroys my left hand, they all pressure me to drop the matter. I wake up in the hospital, pain crawling up my arm, and I know exactly what I have to do. Without hesitation, I dial my mentor, George Landon's, number. "I'm ready to join the classified national rocket program."

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

In their two years of marriage, Helma King’s husband had been home no more than ten times. The last time he was home, he asked for a divorce. In her devastation, she got into an accident and lost her memory! No longer blinded by love, she refused to humble herself for the sake of peace. Instead, she resumed her position as the little princess of the wealthiest King family. With her headstrong and sassy personality, she kicked ass and taught all the scumbags a lesson. During a show, a reporter asked, “Miss King, is it true that you filed for a divorce because someone stole your husband?” Helma King smiled. “He’s just a man. If she wants him, she can have him. There are plenty of men to go around.” Hearing that, everyone turned to look at Young Master Guller, Helma King’s ex-husband, who was scowling with bloodshot eyes.

Fresh out of the National Research Institute, I loaded up on my wife's favorite snacks and ordered a vibrant bouquet of roses, eager to surprise her. I stashed the treats in her office, then stepped out to grab the flowers. But in those fleeting minutes, a stranger had ripped open every package and devoured everything. I glared at him. "Who gave you permission to touch those?" He shot me a look of pure disdain. "Buzz off, flower boy. Drop your crap and scram!" The secretary at the door snickered. "You heard the man. He's Ms. Bowman's husband. Better run before he leaves a bad review." I pulled out my phone and called my wife. "Who is this guy in your office?"

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

On the day I won the national esports championship, my girlfriend of eight years told me she wanted to go on stage and personally present me with flowers. Standing on the podium, my heart was racing. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I'd hidden there, ready to propose to her in front of the entire nation. But what happened next shocked me. She giggled and, instead of handing me the bouquet, she gave it to her male best friend. Under the bright lights, they became the center of attention. The crowd cheered, and their congratulatory messages flooded the trending topics. Even his fans tagged me in posts, mocking, [I told you not to get in the way of our couple, now look at you.] I simply posted on Twitter, [Respect and blessings. Please be locked together forever.]

I made a name for myself in my previous life, thanks to the National Robotics Competition. But after that event, someone accused me of stealing my sister's true love's work. My own sister defended her true love and showed the world the complete code for the program. The Internet went into a frenzy. They came after me, out for my blood. My own parents told me to kill myself. I came down with depression eventually, and my family sent me to a mental asylum. I died there, after suffering severe abuse. When my eyes snapped open again, I was taken back to the day before I joined the competition. I made a different decision this time. I told everyone I wasn't taking part in this competition, and it made everyone panic.

Tiffany Viaje del Cargador is a daughter of Don Arnulfo, the powerful Don of the Alpha Brotherhood. Being a sole child, she is bound to inherit her father's wealth and position in the brotherhood. And yet, everything comes with a price. At eighteen, she is sent to a public school in the province with only one mission: kill the notorious leader of the Dragon Brotherhood-Lucio Hernandez. He is hiding as one of the teachers in Libangon National High. Disguised as a Grade 11 student, she sets foot in that school, hoping to get the job done right away. She is willing to do anything to please her father and to be the first Female Alpha Don, but then there is Teacher Greg, a local public school teacher. And she finds herself falling in love with him, compromising her mission. Given the circumstances, will she still succeed according to plan?