Paper Rings Lyrics Novels & Stories

Happily married for 2 years, I thought all his grumpiness lately was only temporary. Maybe not the richest man, but he definitely puts his work as his priority, and I want to support him with all I have. I gave all the millions of dollars of my family wealth to him to build up his company, and didn't regret that. I love him. All I wanted was a family with him, a child for me to focus my attention on. But he often says he doesn't want a child before his career is stable. I understand, and I am willing to wait, until last night-- I found out that I had adopted his mistress's child thinking he was mine. On the day of our anniversary, I received a message from an unknown number. It's a picture of him with a woman in bed. And the text reads: he has been mine from the beginning. Three days later when he comes to the house that he shared with me in the past two years for one last time, he sees the divorce paper I left him, together with the necklace he gave the girl who saved him ten years ago! Pain and regret burst out in his chest, but this time he couldn’t find me anywhere. Five years later I came back to Arizona with beautiful quadruplets who have resemblance to the most powerful Alpha King in the world, but there's a problem: he isn't ready to let me go even though he's damaged and causes me nothing but pain.

He whispered her name nine hundred and ninety-nine times in his sleep. Never mine. For five years, I gave everything to Vincent Bonanno—the heir to one of the most powerful mafia dynasties in Europe. I turned his house into a home, remembered every careless detail he let slip, even abandoned my dream of becoming an artist—believing that one day, he would finally choose me. But whenever Alessia appeared, his loyalty bent toward her. The night boiling fondue scarred my arms, he rushed to shield her from a scratch that barely reddened her skin. In public, his gaze never stayed with me—it drifted to her. I was the wife on paper, but never in truth. So I walked away. With nothing but a suitcase, divorce papers he signed without noticing, and a secret I never planned to share—three months pregnant. He discovered too late. The divorce was real. The clinic file was real. And by the time he realized, I had vanished. Now the man who once ruled cities with cold power is tearing the world apart to find us. He has soldiers, money, and a thousand apologies he never gave when I was still his wife. But I’m no longer the woman who begged for affection. I’m a mother. An artist. A survivor. The question isn’t whether Vincent can reach me. It’s whether, when he does, I’ll ever let him back into the life he destroyed.

“You are my stepbrother,” Viola whispered, her back pressing against the locked mahogany door. “Stepbrother.” The word left Sebastian’s lips like a curse. His shadow swallowed the room, caging her against the wood. He caught her chin, forcing her violet eyes to meet the ruthless amber of his. “A piece of paper doesn’t make us family, Dulzura,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her trembling lower lip. “It just makes you mine.” *************************************** Sebastian Cain Hierro doesn’t do romance. There are no gentle promises, no soft apologies, and absolutely no love games. A man bred in the violence of the cartel only understands one language: absolute, brutal control. For Viola, being dragged into his dark orbit is a terrifying awakening. She is a girl who only ever wanted to be cherished, suddenly trapped in a forbidden reality with a stepbrother who demands her complete surrender. Every touch behind closed doors is a sin. Every whisper is a command. Surviving him means playing by his twisted rules. She can have his protection, his heavy gaze, and his suffocating obsession—but he has made it dangerously clear that she can never, ever have his heart. But a girl like Viola doesn't know how to give her body without giving her soul. And when she inevitably pours all her desperate, unspoken love into a monster who is completely incapable of loving her back... where is her shattered heart supposed to go?

In order to protect me, Don Salvatore deliberately announces that my fiance, Simone Pozzi, is his long-lost son. Simone shakes with excitement when he sees the man in a bespoke suit stepping out of the Rolls-Royce that is parked outside my house. Just as I'm about to tell him it's all a lie, he shoves me aside. He even brushes his sleeves in disgust, as if he has touched something filthy. Simone says, "Stay away from me. Don't let your poverty rub off on me! Since I'm the Don's son, we'll call off our engagement. An illegitimate bastard like you isn't even fit to wipe my shoes!" When I try to explain, he cuts me off by writing out a check and flinging it hard into my face. The sharp edge of the paper slices across my cheek. "Take this one million dollars as our breakup fee and don't bother me again. We're no longer from the same world," Simone says. I watch the check flutter down into the mud and quietly turn off my phone screen. On the screen is a message Papa—Don Salvatore—has just sent me, "Just bear with it a little longer, Principessa. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the famiglia." Simone is so determined to cut himself off completely. He might have the luck to claim a fortune that big, but not the life to enjoy it.

My mom died giving birth to me. They couldn't save her. My dad? He dumped me outside a prison and ran. Didn't even look back. It was five degrees. I was basically frozen. Barely breathing. Later, a guard said the whole max block lost it that night. One hundred eight inmates—death row, life sentences—went crazy. Slamming doors. Smashing windows. Yelling they wanted to keep me. In the end, they filed a letter. Not a breakout plan. A custody request. Somehow... it got approved. From that day on, I had 108 dads. But growing up, I found out the truth. They weren't criminals. On paper, they were dead—killed in the line of duty. In reality, they were still out there, serving. Eighteen years later, I got into one of the top high schools—with the highest score in the State of Ashford. On the fifth day, I beat the rich girl, Vivian Cobbley, by one point on a mock exam. Next thing I knew, my name was all over the bulletin board: [Riley Ray, daughter of murderers!] Vivian cornered me in the bathroom and shoved my head into a toilet. "Your dads are killers. That filth's in you too." She beat me so hard I dragged her down when we went over the second-floor railing. When I woke up, the Dean of Students was right in my face, finger in my face. "No surprise you're violent. It's in your blood. Call your criminal dads. Now." I shook. "Mr. Todd... you sure you want me to call them?"

Following the success of her two novels, Cela receives an offer for the TV adaptation of her stories but a third story has to be written soon to complete a three-story special. She is not in to the project until she rediscovers the paper bearing the address of the meeting place of her supposed first date with Nate. Now that her mother is no longer around to interfere, she becomes inspired to reunite with him after many years and hopefully write the third novel based on their new story. Unfortunately, he is now about to get married in two months. Disappointed with the turn of events, she decides not to meet him again. She visits their old meeting place and finds it a good place to write but unexpectedly meets him there. They agree not to talk to each other if they meet there again but fate leads them to meet again under different circumstances leaving them no choice but to speak to each other. Suddenly, Nate’s fiancée starts acting weird and suggests that he spend the weekend with Cela while she is away. Although it confuses him, he figures that it is her way of helping him get closure. The two spend one Sunday reminiscing the past expecting a closure in the end but the wonderful moment they share this time only makes it harder to achieve that closure so Cela has to put a stop to it saying, “Please don't think even for a second that there is still something left or something new to explore after everything that happened or did not happen. This is not a novel. This is reality. We don't get sequels or spin-offs in real life. We just continue. We move forward and that's how we get to the ending."

When Tessa Shoreman read Henry Jennings' cancer report, she immediately paid her hard-earned money of sixty thousand to the hospital. She had saved the money from working part-time while she was in university. However, she was worried the money was not enough, so she held back her fear as she sold a kidney to the black market to get more. As she walked to the ward door with a heavy bag filled with cash, she heard shrill laughter coming from inside. "That cheap woman, Tessa Shoreman, got tricked by us again. Haha!" Tessa's hand gave pause right when she was about to push the door open. What did he mean by saying she was tricked? Tessa looked through the glass on the door to see inside the ward. When she left, the man looked extremely weak, but he was now sitting up lazily in bed. Henry had a cigarette in his mouth, and he was blowing smoke rings nonchalantly. He did not look like a cancer patient at all. "It's been two years, and that woman still has no idea." "If she hadn't beaten Serene to first place, Henry would never have left behind his life as a rich heir and planned such an elaborate scheme to become a working-class man living in a cheap rental home. The way that cheap, penniless woman looks at Henry is so amusing." "We agreed that the punishment ends when Henry and Serene get engaged. It looks like time is almost up. We've probably punished her 108 times in the past two years." "The first time was lying to her that Henry didn't have a suit for a job interview. She worked tirelessly for 72 hours straight before she earned enough money for one, but that suit was given to the domestic help to use as a cleaning cloth. The second time was tricking her into believing Henry had a high fever. She forfeited during the finals of a scientific research competition to race home and take care of Henry in the hospital…" "Sigh. Too bad it's coming to an end. I'm going to miss entertaining myself with her."

"If you need anything financially speaking, use this," he held out a black card towards me, "I hope I don't have any problems with you." I stared at the handsome man with the cold expression in front of me, took the card in my fingers and watched him go. Although we were married on paper, our lives would remain separate, each navigating our own turbulent waters. -- When Morgana's father discovers that he has cancer, she tries to find the money to pay for the treatment, agreeing to marry the grandson of a very wealthy family, Ryan Burke, in exchange for the treatment. Their marriage tends to be only nominal, as the boy already has a girlfriend, Elena Kyle. For Morgana, none of this was important, she just wanted to save her father's life. Three years after this contract, her father dies and she returns to the fictional city of Rookgaard to end this nominal marriage, even though she fell in love with Ryan during the wedding. Morgana reluctantly signs the contract, even though she likes Ryan, who doesn't understand his wife's attitude. The other day, thinking she was free of the marriage, she decides to go out with some friends from work to celebrate the divorce, giving herself the opportunity to get to know doctor Elliot Sharon better. What she didn't expect was to run into Ryan, giving him a reason not to sign the papers. Morgana remains married to Ryan, even though he still brings Elena into their lives, until a mysterious car accident happens. Putting her life on the line and changing things.

How can a love be so patient but suddenly lose its will when the right time finally comes? “G-gusto kita, Jeo!” “Higit pa nga yata don. H-hindi ba pwedeng kahit s-subukan mo? Kahit ngayon lang iparanas mo naman sakin na akin ka,” nagmamakaawa kong bulong. Walang kaalam alam ang lahat na kasal na ang poging CEO na si Jeo sa nag-iisang sekretarya nitong si Ysobelle. Isang taon— isang taon ang hinintay ni Ysobelle pero si Kaela pa rin ang minamahal nito. Dito na tuluyang napagod si Ysobelle, umalis siya ng walang paalam at ang tanging iniwan sa asawa ay kapirasong papel ng divorce paper na may pirm niya. Simula ng umalis sa poder ni Jeo ay sinimulan niya ang pagdiskubre sa magagandang tanawin sa Pilipinas. Ngunit napadpad siya sa Palawan, sa lugar na ito nagtagal si Ysobelle dahil sa ganda ng mga tanawin. Ngunit masyadong mapaglaro ang tadhana, ang pamilyang napamahal na sa kanya puso ay ang pamilya rin ng dati niyang asawa. Ito na ba marka ng tuluyan nilang paghihiwalay? O ito na ang magiging simula ng pag-usbong ng pagmamahalan nilang dalawa. Can love really bloom from a man’s broken heart and a woman’s pierced heart? Or will waves keep on pushing them apart?

The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov, Bratva, like I was a contract clause. I said no at the altar. Loud enough for everyone to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri didn’t even blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent, in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity, after I saw another girl get caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.