Open When Letters

Annie Halden was the exact definition of a wallflower. She lived on the sidelines, didn't like attention and worried too much. She wrote letters to herself as her way to get her thoughts out. She never told anyone or let anyone see. Leo Smith, one of the school star athletes and most popular boys, found one of her letters. He started breaking into her locker to read the letters every time there was a new one. He grew concerned about her and wanted to protect her, he wanted to know why she was so broken and who hurt her, he wanted her to know he was there for her - be her shoulder to lean on. How would this friendship work out with Annie being as shy and quiet as she is, never getting close to anyone? How would this friendship last if Annie came to find out the truth about Leo stealing and reading her personal letters?

If Rhoda was thinking she would have a 'happily-ever-after' story, she had better think again because fate has another plan in store for her. After being abandoned abroad for eight years, her parents call her back into the country just to use her to save their dying business by marrying her off to a billionaire equals a jerk. Jeffrey suggested an open marriage since the two of them were in love with someone else. What will be their fate when the ones they were in love with break up with them after signing the open marriage contract? Will they try to make things work between them or just keep the marriage open? Will she be able to watch her husband with other women without doing anything? Or will she try to win him over to herself since divorce isn't an option? Will things become more complicated after realizing that her father's business might not be liquidating after all and she has an identical twin who has been committing atrocities and making people believe it's her?

Our marriage is falling apart and there's need to spice it up. An open marriage for 2 weeks can help, right? But let's not forget the rules, after all not everything is open in an open marriage.

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

I'm eight months pregnant when I suddenly faint on the train. My husband panics and cries for help as he kneels beside me. An interning doctor hurries to me. She doesn't bother checking my condition before saying, "The patient needs to undergo a C-section! We have to get the baby out now, or it might die of suffocation!" Then, she slices me open with a fruit knife—she doesn't take any precautionary measures before doing so. She takes my child out. I'm in so much pain that I don't even have the strength to scream. My blood flows everywhere. Yet, a photo of her holding my baby while standing in a pool of blood goes viral. People call her the prettiest doctor alive. My husband and his family are eternally grateful to her. They don't go after her for causing my death; they even make her my child's godmother! Meanwhile, I'm given a simple cremation. No one cares about me. After my death, all my assets go to my husband and his family. Only then do I hear my husband and the doctor talking to each other, sounding smug. "This plan killed two birds with one stone. We got rid of that woman and made ourselves out to be heroes!" That's when I learn the interning doctor is my husband's junior from high school. They got together when he accompanied me to my prenatal checkups! She failed her internship, so my husband came up with this idea—he wanted to use my death to boost her reputation and help her! Even my child eventually died under their "care". When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day we get on the train.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

My husband, Damien Falcone, had 99 lovers. And I was the mafia princess men lined up to die for. The day we got together, everyone in our world took bets. They said we wouldn't last three months. But then , everything changed. For me, he wiped his phone clean, built a rose manor, and got down on one knee. Then, on our wedding night, he told me he wanted an open marriage. "Our bodies can play," he said. "But our loyalty? That's just for us." I agreed. Then came his 100th lover, Sophia Ricci. She betrayed our family in an arms deal. Almost got my father killed. But Damien protected her. He even moved her into our home. So, I did what any heartbroken mafia princess would do. I got drunk and woke up in another man's bed. I just didn't know that man was Damien's uncle.

Sixteen-year-old Ava never expected her future to show up in the form of a letter. When she discovers a mysterious envelope slipped under her bedroom door—written in handwriting that looks eerily like her own—she brushes it off as a cruel prank. But the message inside is impossible to ignore: Tomorrow, do not take the shortcut home. If you do, he will never wake up. The next day, Ava changes her routine. And in doing so, she prevents a tragedy that could have cost her best friend his life. More letters arrive, each warning her of choices she hasn’t made yet—choices that will unravel family secrets, test her friendships, and place her in the middle of a dangerous puzzle only she can solve. With every decision, Ava begins to wonder if the future she’s trying to protect is already written… or if she has the power to change it.

Indulge in a thrilling tale of deception, redemption, and unexpected passion in "Letters to a Dangerous Billionaire." Leilani, a young woman shackled by neglect and despair, takes a daring leap towards freedom by pouring her frustrations into a final farewell. Little did she know that her letter would reach the hands of a mysterious stranger—an anonymous figure who would ignite a fire in her soul. With each exchange, their connection deepens, and against all odds, they decide to meet. But the shocking truth that awaits Leilani shatters her heart into shards of betrayal. Unveiling the dangerous billionaire criminal behind the letters, she realizes her life will never be the same again. Prepare for a rollercoaster of emotions as one woman's destiny intertwines with a ruthless delinquent billionaire, setting off a chain of events that will leave you breathless and begging for more.

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.