Off The Day

“One night, one ring, and one mistake I can’t take back… Because the man I married in Vegas is now my mother’s fiancé.” Lena Carter thought a wild night in Las Vegas would help her forget her cheating ex. She didn’t expect to wake up in a penthouse suite with a six-carat ring on her finger—and a marriage certificate linking her to a mysterious, sinfully gorgeous stranger named Roman Wolfe. She left before sunrise, hoping to erase the night from her memory. Until two months later… when her mother introduces him as her new fiancé. Roman doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t forget. And when Lena finds out she’s pregnant, hiding the truth gets harder every day—especially when Roman refuses to keep his distance. “You’re already mine, Lena,” he whispers against her skin. “That ring may be gone, but I still own every part of you. Including the baby you’re carrying.” Now, trapped in a web of secrets, lies, and forbidden desire, Lena must choose: Protect the people she loves... or surrender to the man who already owns her body and heart.

Aliza Marie Mendez is a freshman student in a State University in her Province. Her parents died in an accident when she was just 8 years old. Up until then she was raised by her Auntie. She is a street smart girl who strives really hard in order to survive in life. She was being abused physically by her Auntie's husband when she couldn't give them money the reason why she needed to get a part time job to survive the cruelty of her Uncle. However, she knew that working enough couldn't get her out of her chaotic life. What she needs is someone who could give her assurance that she will never need to fight for her life alone. Until she met her Professor in college that once helped her unexpectedly and the one who made her feel appreciated for the first time.

She gave him eight years. He gave her a divorce mid-sex, all for the dying wish of his sister, Naomi. Liv signed the papers, burying her marriage and the truth about her secret baby. Now, she's free and ready to walk away. But when she sees CEO Hudson publicly embracing Naomi, a single, cold glance from Liv shatters him. She's not angry—she's just done. "Go live your life with Naomi. But don't expect me to wait." He gave her up easily. But how can he move on when his ex-wife is carrying the one thing he can never get back?

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.

The operation had just gone dark when the chatter started in the comms. “Easy, Zane. Don’t burn through another mattress.” A low laugh came through the headset. Relaxed. Careless. “I’ve been deployed for six months. I needed the release. And don’t let my wife hear that.” More laughter. “Right. Take care of the little mistress first, then call home and play devoted husband?” My phone rang. His voice when I answered was warm. Intimate. Soft in a way it never was on the field. He said he missed me. Said he counted the days until he could come home. I watched the live drone feed while he said it. What he didn’t know was that three months ago, I had quietly transferred into the family’s Strategic Intelligence division. Every operation his crew ran, I was the one behind the monitors—tracking shipments, rerouting safehouses, intercepting rival signals, listening to every word spoken over secured lines. The first night he slept with her, I logged the timestamp. 00:43 hours. When the call ended, I dialed another number—encrypted, family internal. “I’ll accept your offer,” I said calmly. “After this job, I’m stepping away.” The voice on the other end was steady. Controlled. Powerful. “You’ll leave after the Palermo Capture,” he replied. “I’ll personally see to your relocation.” A pause. “Three days.”

Lucas Martin had never been so tolerant since his transfer to White Day High after being expelled from Aspho. He would recklessly use his newly-discovered Fire Starter skills to protect himself, but always been stopped by his cousin Moon Martin. But his misconception about him not needing anyone made him drove Moon away as he always did. When he learned about the news of an upcoming Tournament game, he started to partake and hoped that he will be selected to be a part of the school's group. He will soon realize how bad his transfer into White Day High had gotten after the Aspho Principal, Mister Vacio, insisted on his approval to either transfer back to Aspho High or stop participating in the White Day's group. Lurking with this dilemma wan an identity that said to be Lucas' past self that he didn't know if it's true or not. But as he continued fighting over his stay at his school with the rage of everyone and the aim to defeat Aspho High, he started to pick up pieces of information regarding the past self he was told while the tournament slowly come. Those intricate circumstances left Lucas with no other option but to defeat Aspho High with the hatred he has for Mister Vacio who kept getting onto his ways. The Division Skills Tournament was about to confront what its nature has only hinted from hearsays and its danger no one dared to whisper. The life-or-death fight over the victory of his school has a lot to hide than anyone anticipated.

My boy friend Caleb Ford's childhood sweetheart, Julia Leclair, is losing her hair from chemotherapy. So, he orders me to cut mine off and make her a wig. "Julia's allergic to synthetic wigs. You've been growing your hair for ten years—it's perfect." I refuse, but his friends tie me down. Someone shaves my head to the scalp, buzzing through my thick, glossy hair until nothing's left but a butchered mess. Julia sits in her wheelchair and laughs, saying I look like a toad. Caleb smiles and nods in agreement. He adds with a chuckle, "It's just some hair. Was that really necessary?" But back when I was bullied for having uneven, choppy short hair for six straight years, it was he who stood in front of me. He had his arms spread wide as he shielded me from harm. Now he's the one wielding the blade. One by one, their little circle chimes in. They tell me not to hold a grudge against someone who's sick. Caleb snaps impatiently, "Stop trying to talk sense into her. She can get lost! Did you see that fit she threw over a few strands of hair? It's not like they won't grow back." I turn around and walk away. I never look back. Later, I hear that Caleb begs for my forgiveness by kneeling his way up 9000 steps until his knees are ruined.

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

On the day that I returned to the country, Lola Lawson, the one who was once the love of my life for ten years, sent me a picture of a baby. She told me to think of a name and meet her at the city hall to register the baby, as she had prepared a welcome-home gift for me. So, I rushed over with bags full of baby supplies. But when I arrived, she and her girlfriends were bent over with ridicule and laughter. "I told you! Even though he was gone for a year, he's still a loyal lapdog! Just a wave of my hand and he'd even be willing to raise someone else's kid for me!" She sized me up with mocking amusement. "Kevin Sheraton. How could you still be this naive? Just one joke and you come running?" They laughed without any restraint, calling me names and hurling insults, saying I'd do anything for Lola. But when I walked past them and took a number to register my own child's birth, and later wrapped my arm around my wife as the three of us took a family portrait, Lola's eyes were completely reddened with tears.