Oh Who Is She A Misty Memory

One of the best fashion designers of the industry and a billionaire's daughter Juliana Sanders is engaged to Adrian Butler who is the son of her father's millionaire friend. Juliana often gets jealous whenever she sees her fiance with his best friend Alice Rivera who is also a model and is secretly in love with Adrian Butler. Things get changed in her life when for the first time she notices a strange guy at her birthday party. Her life gets more complicated when she realizes that the strange guy named Alberto Mathews, most of the time is following her.

The wedding had barely started when the lights went out. Then came the moans—from the giant screen behind the altar. Hailey froze. Her skin went ghost-pale. Her whole body shook. A beat later, the doors slammed open. Leading the charge? Nolan. Cold eyes, sharp suit, and bodyguards in tow. He stormed the stage. The groom tried to stop him. Big mistake. Nolan's guys dropped him in seconds. Nolan grabbed a fistful of the groom's hair and yanked his head back. "Heh. I've slept with Hailey hundreds—maybe thousands—of times. Used condoms alone could fill your house. Wanna see the HD vids?" Hailey's eyes locked on Nolan, pure hate. She'd been his kept woman for eight years. He loathed her family. He loathed her. Swore she'd never know peace. Then she disappeared—and he lost his mind.

Trisha is being haunted by her pasts she wanted to forget. They keep coming back and she knows she needed to face them in order to move on. But what if one of it makes her tremble with fear while the other one was with a mix of desire? Can she really escape them? What she doesn't know is that one is willing to protect her no matter what, even binding and branding her with the devil's possession to do so.

To say that it was a love is an understatement, Tess White was obsessed with the one who hates her guts, and was completely in love with the idea of falling in love with Callum Anderson ever since she was young. However,Callum had a highschool sweetheart and life was at bliss for him until his world collided with Tessa and the next thing he knew, he was married to the girl he hated the most.

Ashton Fabregas is a certified playboy. Despite being a product of love, he never imagined or dreamed he would fall in love with a woman. He was contented with his life as a bachelor, with no one dictating or demanding anything from him since he hated being controlled. As a jerk, he always had a new flavor every day and night. But that night came... As he scanned his eyes around the bar, it landed on a woman who caught his attention. Man, she's sexy and gorgeous as hell! So, he quickly approached her and asked her to dance. And when he finally caught the woman's attention, he realized she was drunk as she expertly danced sexily with him in the middle of the dance floor. But what happened to him? Something's not right because he's going crazy thinking about that woman over and over again. It seems like the woman didn't just capture his attention, but also his heart, and hell, he can't allow that to happen just like that! He will also take the woman's heart and claim it. But how can he find her when he doesn't know who she is and where she is? Damn, Ashton Fabregas is very, very doomed as hell!

It was not until after I married Bennett that I found out he had a clingy little childhood friend who loved to play the victim. On the very first day of our marriage, at dinner, I simply asked Bennett to pass me a bite of food. She immediately exploded. "Holly, you're disgusting! Bennett already used those utensils, and you seriously asked him to serve you food? What, don't you have hands?" I froze, completely blindsided. Before I could even react, Bennett put down his spoon and went straight to her, wrapping her in his arms like she was the one who had been wronged. Then he turned to me and said I should just get my own food from now on. However, honestly, wasn't it normal for a husband to serve his wife a bite? What was so outrageous about that? I barely got a word out before Bennett shut me down in a low, firm voice. "That's final. If Rosie doesn't like it, then we're not doing it. End of discussion."

The day my mother brought her childhood sweetheart back to the villa, my father—who had already quit smoking—stood on the balcony and smoked through the entire night. Back then, his colleagues at the research institute all envied him for having a wife who was a CEO. They said he should have stayed home and enjoyed life—why work so hard outside when all he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the household finances? But my father never agreed. "Those things are all external," he would say. "As long as the feelings are still there, we'll be fine whether we're rich or poor. And if one day she no longer loves me, I'll leave with nothing and walk away alone." He never expected his words to become prophecy. My mother truly did stop loving him. Later, when she appeared before the media, arm in arm with that man, my father didn't look back. He boarded a flight overseas and disappeared from our lives. And as I stared at the photo in my social feed—my fiancée's hand entwined with someone else's—I knew it was time for me to leave too, just like my father had.

I'm the true heir to an affluent family who got switched at birth. But when I'm reunited with my family, they suddenly announce their bankruptcy. The sprawling mansion is repossessed, leaving me, my wife, and my parents to sleep on the streets. My parents are so furious that they end up getting admitted to the hospital—one gets a stroke, and the other passes away. My wife gets her legs broken by one of the creditors, and my son is so frightened that he becomes mentally impaired. To bear the astronomical medical bill, I work countless part-time jobs and put myself through the wringer. Everything changes when, one day, I accept a job as a temporary driver. I go to a lavish hotel's banquet hall. A celebration for a gold wedding is being held there, and I see my late mother and paralyzed father sharing a kiss onstage. My crippled wife is dancing offstage as she enjoys the festivities. Meanwhile, my son speaks fluently in a foreign language as he speaks with a foreign child.

Peace Ellis a girl always wants a peaceful life just like her name, she hates too much noise, trouble and chaos. She always likes to be alone, for her being in peace is more important than having social life and friends,and her parents gave that to her…they tried their best.  Until one day, her parents decided to make her study again in a normal school and not to be home schooled anymore, she is always hate this idea of them but she knows her parents is just trying to make her experience the life she is missing for always choosing to be alone and away from the people around her. She thought that entering school again would be at least peaceful not to be chaotic even just a bit, but faith is really silly, playful and unpredictable that made her meet a man named Chaos. Will she still be able to have the peaceful life that she wanted? Will she be able to find peace with Chaos? How can Chaos be her peace in their life that is full of chaos? Will she choose Chaos over the peaceful life that she wanted before she enters the school?   Can Peace tame the man named Chaos?    

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.