Numbers You Should Never Call

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

Umalis si Elizabeth sa marangyang buhay sa Maynila upang takasan ang isang sapilitang kasunduan—ang pag-date kay Greg, anak ng pinakamayamang negosyante sa lungsod. Sa pagtakbo palayo, hindi inaasahang masisira ang kanyang kotse sa gitna ng isang liblib na lugar. Isang misteryosong lalaki ang dumaan at tumulong sa kanya. Tall, dark, and handsome—isang "prince charming" sa tunay na buhay. Pero hindi niya nakuha ang pangalan nito. Pagdating sa probinsya, ibinahagi niya ang kwento sa kanyang kaibigang si Monique, na agad nilang tinawag ang lalaki bilang "Prince Charming." Ngunit gumuho ang mundo ni Elizabeth nang mapagtanto niyang ang lalaking ito… ay walang iba kundi si Benedict—ang ama ng kanyang kaibigan. Isang single dad na hindi rin inakalang ang babaeng tinulungan niya sa kalsada ay ang magiging dahilan ng muling pagtibok ng kanyang puso. Handa ba si Elizabeth na mahalin ang lalaking hindi niya dapat ibigin? At kaya ba niyang ipaglaban ang damdaming maaaring sirain ang pagkakaibigan nila ni Monique?

Samir Kane was the man of my dreams, the man I’ve always wanted. So imagine my joy when he walked into my favorite cafe, went down on one knee, and brought a ring up to my face. I was beyond elated of course. I mean it was a dream come true. Little did I know that it was also going to be my nightmare disguised as a dream. Samir not only roped me into a marriage with him for selfish reasons. However, I’ve yearned for his love and acceptance for years, but he treated me with the opposite and disrespect instead. And after he was fed up, he decided to discard me. He decided I’m no longer worth it, that it’s time we part ways, and his thoughtful gift for me on the night of our five years anniversary were divorce documents. How rich? Because that was all it took for me to venture into the brutal side. Watch out Samir, I’m now on the hunt for your wreckage, and there’s no stopping until I’ve brought you exactly where you once had me.

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.

6 days is all she needs ... Zuri takes a vacation to America but three men: Passion, Lust, and Desire reroute everything for her. She is in bliss out living the American dream but sometimes meeting a stranger isn't always in your best interest

The Rossi mafia family followed an ancestral rule. Before marriage, the heir received one chance each year to draw lots. Drawing a fortunate lot meant he could choose his own spouse and avoid an arranged marriage. Dante Rossi drew an unfortunate lot for five consecutive years, and I, who had been dating him for seven years, never managed to marry him. This year marked the sixth year. I overheard his conversation with Marco Valentino, the Underboss. "Mr. Rossi, you drew a fortunate lot again." Dante's voice carried an unprecedented coldness. "Same as always, switch it to an unfortunate lot." Marco hesitated, then tried to persuade him. "Mr. Rossi, you've switched it for five years straight. Aren't you worried Celia will leave? Celia's the most beautiful woman in Nopales. Half the men in the city are chasing her." Dante said with absolute certainty, "She won't. Celia loves me too much. She won't marry anyone else. "Years ago, Livia's father died saving me. His dying wish was for me to stay by her side for five years. After this year ends, I'll give Celia a grand wedding as compensation." My last shred of hope died after I heard those words. Dante probably did not know that the Rossi family had one final ancestral rule. If the heir failed to draw a fortunate lot six times, he would lose the right to choose his own marriage. Moreover, I would soon be marrying someone else.

After being betrayed by her stepsister and cast out by the people she once called family, Olivia is banished from her pack, stripped of her title, her home, and her dignity. Now, she’s being forced into marriage with Ryan Blackwood, a cold, crippled billionaire who makes it clear he doesn’t want her and vows to make her life miserable. As if that isn’t enough, she’s lost her wolf… and gained weight she can’t explain. But fate has other plans. As buried secrets begin to surface and unexpected sparks ignite between them, Olivia finds herself caught between a dangerous past that refuses to die and a love she never saw coming. Now, torn between revenge, desire, and destiny, Olivia must decide where her heart and her future truly belong.

"You were never her, Aria. You were just... there." Jason's words echo in my head as I stand in the back of the church, watching him mourn another woman on her sister's wedding day. Isabelle. The perfect dead girlfriend. The ghost I've been competing with for three years. I thought I could be enough. I thought love could grow where grief once lived. But when I find the evidence, when I see the hotel receipts, the text messages, the photos of Jason with Isabelle's sister Violet, I realize the truth. I was never the love story. I was the intermission. What I don't know yet is that nothing about my marriage was real. Not Jason's cruelty. Not Violet's affair. Not the stranger's rescue. They've all been playing a game, and I'm the prize they're willing to destroy each other for. When the truth comes out, when I discover why Isabelle really died and who's been pulling the strings, I'll have to decide: Do I let them destroy me, or do I burn their whole world down?

For five years, Vixen loved and waited for her mate’s devotion, only to find he had already given his heart to another—her own stepsister. Betrayed and stripped of everything, she watches the child she raised choose another, and her world crumbles. But Vixen is not done. From heartbreak rises fury, from loss power, and from betrayal emerges a woman determined to make them pay. The man who once rejected her will fall to his knees, desperate to reclaim her. But Vixen has already found someone else: a man who sees her for who she is, and will never let her go. 🔥SNEAK PEEK🔥 Vixen felt his gaze before his hand closed around her wrist, dragging her into the shadowed alcove beyond the ballroom lights. “You keep looking at him.” The accusation burned low and dangerous. Her breath faltered as his body boxed her against the marble wall. “He was part of my life,” she whispered. His jaw tightened. “Was.” Across the hall, Kael laughed with Olaine. Vixen forced a smile. This should be interesting. But that smile was his breaking point. His fingers slid beneath her chin, forcing her gaze back to him — possessive, unyielding, furious in a way that made her pulse stutter. “You wear my name now,” he said roughly. “Your eyes don’t follow another man.” Her lips parted to argue. He kissed her before the words could form. Not gentle. Not patient. The kiss stole her breath, crushed her protest, branded heat into her veins as his hand tightened at her waist, holding her against him like a warning the entire world could read. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his voice raw and dark. “Let him watch,” he whispered. “Let him see exactly who you belong to.”

When my parents call to tell me they are taking me to my childhood friend, Oliver Holland's house to meet his blind date, he is still asleep beside me. I think they are joking and whisper, "Oliver, they said they've found you someone to date." He gives a lazy hum and pulls me into his arms. "Gerry, help me pick out something to wear later. And fix my hair, too." When I freeze, Oliver opens his eyes and lets out a short, mocking laugh. "What's wrong with you? We're just sleeping together. You don't actually think I'm going to marry you, do you?"