Orange House

I arranged a lavish dinner cruise in Alpha Lucien Grimfang's honor. However, I mistakenly wore the ceremonial gown that had once belonged to his late Luna, Sylvia Wilder. In front of all the guests, his ten-year-old son, Rhett Grimfang, suddenly rammed me into the champagne tower. The shattered crystal glasses left deep cuts across my skin. "Don't think that you can replace my mother just because you're wearing her sacred gown! You're nothing but a dog—obedient and always at my father's beck and call! Don't you dare dream of claiming a Luna's honor!" His cold, scornful expression mirrored Lucien's perfectly. "I can make you leave anytime I want!" I forced myself to look up at the pup I had raised. "Don't trouble yourself. Tomorrow, I'll submit my resignation to the Elder Council and leave for good."

Isang video ng boyfriend ko na nagpo-propose sa kanyang secretary ang nag-trending. Lahat ay kilig na kilig at sinasabing napaka-romantic at nakakaantig ang eksena. Nag-post pa mismo ang secretary niya sa social media: "Matagal kitang hinintay, at buti na lang hindi ako sumuko. Ipagkakatiwala ko ang buhay ko sayo, Mr. Emerson." Isa sa mga komento ang nagsabi: "Diyos ko, sobrang sweet nito! CEO at secretary—bagay na bagay sila!" Hindi ako umiyak o nag-eskandalo. Sa halip, tahimik kong isinara ang webpage at hinarap ang nobyo ko para humingi ng paliwanag. Doon ko siya narinig na nakikipag-usap sa mga kaibigan niya. "Wala akong choice. Mapipilitan siyang pakasalan ang isang taong hindi niya mahal kung hindi ko siya tinulungan." "Eh si Vicky? Siya ang totoong girlfriend mo. Hindi ka ba natatakot na magalit siya?" "Eh ano naman kung magalit siya? Pitong taon na kaming magkasama—hindi niya ako kayang iwan." Sa huli, ikinasal ako sa parehong araw ng kasal nila. Nang magkasalubong ang aming mga sasakyan, nagpalitan kami ng bouquet ng kanyang secretary. Nang makita niya ako, labis siyang nasaktan at humagulgol.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

Yung bata na iniligtas ko noong maliliit pa kami ay lumaking isang possessive at obsessive na CEO. Sampung taon niya akong kinontrol, gamit ang sakit ng lola ko bilang pang-blackmail para pilitin akong magpakasal sa kanya. Sinubukan niyang gawin ang lahat para makuha ang loob ko—kahit anong paraan, ginawa niya,pero hindi ko siya kailanman minahal. Dahil sa sobrang galit, nakahanap siya ng babaeng halos kamukha ko para pumalit sa akin. Ipinagmalaki nila ang relasyon nila sa harap ng lahat, at may mga bulung-bulungan na natagpuan na raw ng CEO ang tunay niyang pag-ibig. Pero isang araw, dumating ang babaeng iyon sa villa kasama ang mga alipores niya, gamit ang atensyon at pagmamahal ng CEO bilang lakas ng loob. Isa-isa niyang binali ang mga daliri ko, sinugatan ang mukha ko gamit ang utility knife, at inalis ang damit ko para ipahiya ako. “Kahit nagparetoke ka pa para magmukhang ako, palalagpasin ko na ‘yun. Pero natuto ka pang magpinta nang kagaya ko? Grabe kang mag-aral! Tignan natin kung paano ka makakaakit ng mga lalaki ngayon!” Habang duguan na ako at halos mawalan ng malay, sa wakas dumating ‘yung obsessive na CEO. Hinila ako ng babae sa harapan niya at mayabang na nagsumbong, “Honey, itong babaeng ‘to ay nagtatago rito sa villa, tinatangkang akitin ka. Siniguro kong hindi siya magtatagumpay!”

Trois mois avant notre mariage, mon petit ami a publié sur Instagram un certificat de mariage, à lui et à ma sœur adoptive, ainsi qu'une photo de grossesse de cette dernière. La légende disait : « Nous avons légalement accueilli notre enfant. » Ma sœur adoptive a commenté avec un émoji timide. Ma mère a aimé la publication et elle a écrit : « Quand le bébé naîtra, je vous aiderai à le garder. Vivez votre vie de couple sans souci. » Je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher de commenter un point d'interrogation. La seconde d'après, les reproches de mon petit ami se sont abattus sur moi comme une tempête. Il a dit : « Elle t'a juste emprunté mon temps pour un an, le temps qu'elle accouche. Ensuite, elle me rendra à toi. »

I had been with Lars Carter for six years. The head of Midas Capital in Eastwind City, he was a rising star in Riverton's Silver Street—the heart of this nation's financial world. Few knew his true roots. Within him flowed the Vitalus bloodline. Lars descended from an old mafia clan from the city of Virgil in Vitalus, the Viktors. Midas Capital was ours. We built it from the ground up together; Lars would haunt private clubs, ironing out business deals amid drinks. I would stay by his side, doing the accounts, steering the direction of the negotiations, and memorizing every detail of the high-stakes contracts. We did everything together—a tight team. Or so I thought. In my naivete, I was convinced I would rule the city alongside him. The woman behind the man, so to speak. …Until Pearl Ross arrived two months ago. His childhood sweetheart moved from Virgil to Eastwind City. It was then that I knew—she was the one he was waiting for all along. It had always been her. "Lars, I want to get married." Lars' face tightened; hesitation veiled in businesslike concern. "Bianca, you know the company's at a critical stage… We're mid-fundraising. I can't right now." I smiled, calm and composed. "That's fine." He misunderstood. I was getting married—just not to him.

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

"Ms. Rowe, are you certain you want to delete all identity records? Once they're erased, you'll be completely removed from the system. No one will be able to find you again." Eva Rowe pauses for a moment before nodding with quiet resolve. "Yes. I want to disappear from this world. I want to make sure no one can ever find me." Two seconds of silence follow on the other end, as if they're giving her one last chance to reconsider. "Understood, Ms. Rowe. The wipeout protocol will be completed within 14 days. By then, you'll be officially 'dead' in all databases. Please make the necessary arrangements." With that, the call ends. Eva books a one-way ticket to Felnor, scheduled for 14 days later. Then, she turns off her phone, watching as the screen goes dark. She stands by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the endless city lights, and lets out a soft, cold laugh. She is no longer anyone's Eva.

Bella thought she could freeload off her wealthy husband for life, never imagining he'd suddenly want a divorce. A divorce? She demanded a reason! Calmly, in front of the elders, he stated, "Sexual incompatibility." The room fell silent, the parents shocked, their minds racing. Sexual... incompatibility? Damn it! Bella was furious. Where was the incompatibility? What was incompatible? You bastard! Explain yourself!

Mon fiancé Didier Gardet, héritier d'une famille mafieuse parisienne, m'aimait éperdument. Pourtant, un mois avant notre mariage, sous prétexte d'obligations familiales, il m'a annoncé qu'il devait avoir un enfant avec son premier amour. J'ai refusé, mais il n'a cessé de me harceler, jour après jour, insistant lourdement. Quinze jours avant notre mariage, j'ai reçu un rapport médical : cette femme était déjà enceinte de près d'un mois... À quoi bon, alors, feindre de demander mon accord ? À cet instant, j'ai compris : nos années de prétendue passion n'étaient que fragilité et illusion. J'ai annulé le mariage et ai brûlé chaque cadeau qu'il m'avait offert. Le jour même de notre mariage, je suis partie pour l'Italie. Je m'y suis plongée dans des études de médecine clinique, tout en prenant officiellement en charge une mission pour Médecins Sans Frontières. J'ai coupé tout contact avec lui. Dès lors, entre lui et moi : plus rien.