Netero Middle Finger

Belle was mistaken for the runaway bride. Yes, Tristan De Clarion thought she was Vernice. The bride he’s supposed to marry but decided not to show up on their wedding day. To exact revenge on his prodigal fiancé, she was hired as his Executive Secretary. Although they look the same, Belle and Vernice are two different people. In her entanglement with the childish CEO, Belle learned about her true self. She unveiled the secret of who she was and who she should be. The continuous arguments draw them closer to one another, until love blooms. However, there’s a third and fourth party involved. Both are determined to make Belle’s life a living hell just to shoo her away from the young heir. One’s reason is love and the other is money. In the middle of all the schemes, Tristan got into an accident and developed amnesia. Unfortunately, she only forgot about Belle. According to people, what the mind forgets, the heart remembers, will it be the same for the lovers? Or will it be the cartoon-themed underwear that will bring them back together?

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

I found out I was pregnant in the middle of a fight with my husband. How should I tell him without embarrassing myself too much? I decided to ask the Internet, and the netizens gave me a ton of advice based on their years of experience reading novels. One, run away with your unborn baby. Two, pretend to gag over lunch. Three, put his number into the abortion registration form… When he came to me in a frenzy, I belatedly realized, ‘Crap, I think I went too far!’

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

After my husband cheats, my relatives advise me to be tolerant and forgiving. Why? Because my husband's mistress is pregnant, and I'm infertile. Even his parents hurry to our house in the middle of the night to say, "Don't worry—we won't let that woman step foot in this house. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours." Is that so? I sneer as I look at a medical report. Perhaps the child will have something to do with me, but it definitely won't have anything to do with my husband.

This book is authored by Priscilla Ogwezhi. I faced the direction where the scent was stronger and looked on. Whoever is there is my mate. A girl was placed in the middle, and from the looks of it, she was receiving the forest no-escape punishment. Before she was a... My eyes widened seeing her. She's got to be my mate. There were seven men beside her, and one of them came to her and whispered in her ear. Whatever he had told her made her shocked as she gasped with widened eyes. She walked closer to me and bowed her head. “Alpha Darius, it's an honor to see you here....” She said that to me. Riley, an omega, is tortured and treated like a slave by everyone in her pack. During an accident with the alpha’s daughter, Riley soon discovers that the moon goddess had mated her to a ruthless and unkind Alpha. A man that hated her for being an Alpha. He vows to make her life a living hell. Yet destiny has never played in the favor of one’s heart. For Alpha Darrius Cade will fall for the weak, vulnerable omega against his desires. Will Riley lose hope in her mate and his unkindness towards her. Perhaps the passion they share heartedly will create the magnet that chains their hearts together.

In the middle of the night, young Euroah Minari’s life changes forever. A dark twist of fate occurs and she finds herself captured and sold off to the highest bidder. Now a slave living in a whole new world of advanced technology, she must learn to cope with her new reality, make new friends, and learn how to please her master. Zion Velucia is a 29 year old business man. At a young age, he inherited the massive family fortune and became the CEO of the largest technology company in the kingdom of Symphonia. An empty hearted man who trusts no one. He’s lived his entire life knowing that everyone around him is after something and wants to use him for their own benefit. But when he sees an innocent girl on the auction block, she brings back pieces of his past that he’s hidden away for so many years. Can Euroah bring out a side to him he thought he’d driven out? Or will his being accustomed to getting exactly what he wants stand in the way of obtaining what his soul truly craves? You can't escape destiny!

Kybelle Syria Vargas always isolates herself as she's afraid of being judge by people so she become loner and over thinker. In the middle of her monochromatic journey, she found someone who showed her the other side of the world. She finds out that all the thoughts she's afraid to unleash is still possible to tell in writing and it become her rescue. Her passion and commitment in writing is the reason why she hailed as the first Editor in Chief of The Phantom, their school publication and when she helps the second batch she struggles to be a loner again as she happen to meet the person who broke her heart years ago. Dave Jedrick Martinez.

By year's end, I'd closed a huge deal and snagged a $2.5 million bonus. The company even sent me on early maternity leave—nice perk for being eight months pregnant. Pauline found me lounging on the couch. "Why aren't you at work?" I cracked a joke. "Got fired. Guess I'll be stuck here playing housewife." Her response? A slap across my back. "Then get off and do the laundry! You're having a girl, not a son, and you think you can sit around like some princess?" My husband, Logan, walked in right then. He just pulled her into the nursery. Feeling hurt, I switched on the hidden cameras I'd secretly installed. I thought maybe he'd defend me. Yeah, no. What I uncovered? It was so much worse. Twisted secret after twisted secret.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.