Phone Beeping Virus

Cesare Xandri, the rising gangster of the Nalitan mafia, unexpectedly lost a bet at an elite private casino in Ithel, the kind that smells like cigar smoke and blood money. The penalty was simple, he had to call his hard-to-tame pet. The phone was on speaker. The men circled him, whistling and hooting, waiting to be entertained. He asked what I was up to in a relaxed and amused tone. I replied softly, insinuating he was sinful, hiding my defiance behind innocence and fake devotion. When I finished my insult, the room fell silent, then burst into loud and uncontrollable laughter. The call ended. Less than thirty minutes later, the mansion gates were smashed open. He stormed in smelling of gunpowder, a Beretta still in his hand. He pushed me against the wall furiously beneath the Virgin Mary statue. I leaned into him without hesitation, fingers brushing the heated gun, and I met his gaze without fear. I chose virtue and rejected him in my past life, in return I was thrown into the open sea to die. I intended to be his temptation when I got a second chance at life, I wanted to be a beautiful sin that ends his story under the Cecilian sun.

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

Today is the day when my boyfriend Caleb agreed to mark me. I even took off my skirt, but he received a phone call before he could complete it. He instantly left me alone on the bed, making me feel extremely embarrassed. I tried everything to contact him, but I couldn't reach him. Then, when I finally called his childhood sweetheart, Susan, to my surprise, Caleb answered the phone. "Susan was scared by a nightmare. I have to stay with her to take care of her. Let's mark another day. And please can we talk later. Susan finally fell asleep again. I don't wanna disturb her rest.” "But this is the seventh time you have postponed marking," I said softly. "Marking can be done at any time, but Susan needs me! Don't you have any humanity, Maria?" He hung up, and I burst into tears. My inner wolf asked me, Caleb is gone, do you still need to mark today? I wiped away my tears and said, "Of course, I will do it.” And I immediately contacted the alpha of the neighboring tribe.

"You foolish bitch, do you really think you can marry Henry?". Her mouth curved into a wicked smile as she lowered her head to look at Ashley. "I am the real daughter of the head of the Browns. You will never become the bright and shinning flower of the Brown family" she let out a low snort "It would have been better if you end up like your stupid mother" she said with an evil grin on her face Ashley tighten her grip on her cloth as she heard Lucia's statement "You will never know what the drug you took was and what I have in stock for you. But one thing I'm sure of is that you enjoy your wedding night in advance" She then took out her phone, and dialed a number. "Are the two street ruffians I have arranged especially for my sister ready? Tell them to come here now." Ashley opened her eyes wide in shock upon hearing what Lucia had said. She knew that Lucia had never liked her. But she didn't expect that her to be this vicious. It seemed that Lucia wanted to drug her and found someone to rape her. Such a wicked woman!

On our engagement day, my fiancee, Lucille Perry, had her childhood best friend, Derek Miller, show up with a box of handmade cookies as a gift. Out of basic courtesy, I picked one up and took a bite. Derek and a few of his buddies burst out laughing. "This mama's boy can't even recognize his own mother's ashes!" My stomach churned violently. Shocked and furious, I lunged at him to throw a punch, but Lucille desperately held me back. Derek looked at me smugly and grinned. "Since you already ate it, why don't you tell everyone how your mom tastes?" I was so angry that I kicked him right in the face. However, Lucille turned around and slapped me hard across the cheek. "Spencer Bourdain, is this really necessary? Can't you take a joke? Eating a little bit of ashes won't kill you. Look at how petty you're being!" My heart went completely numb. I quietly pulled out my phone and sent a message to a certain number. [The wedding reception is ready. All we need now is you, the bride-to-be.]

After working overtime at the company for an entire week, I finally finish the last project on my plate and rush home. Not wanting to wake my sleeping wife, Mia Lawson, I carefully push the door open as quietly as I can. But the house is nothing like the silence I expected. A man's unrestrained laughter cuts sharply through the air. "You're already pregnant and still this bold. Aren't you afraid your husband will catch you?" "Why would I be? He hasn't been home for almost a week. Besides, once I tell him I'm pregnant, he'll be over the moon. There's no way he'll notice anything." In an instant, my hands and feet turn ice-cold, and blood rushes to my head. I'm about to charge in and catch them in the act when my phone suddenly vibrates with a follow-up message from the hospital. "Mr. Brooks, thank you for choosing our hospital for your vasectomy. We wish you and your wife a lifetime of happiness." A lifetime of happiness? I stare at those words, let out a cold laugh, and regain my composure. Then I turn around and call my divorce lawyer.

Financial reporter Zoey, known for her pride and icy beauty, and with a formidable business acumen, finds herself at the center of a scandal on the very day she and financial tycoon Barlen are to get their marriage license. An insider exposes her, claiming that she loves only Barlen's wealth and that their marriage is merely a product of her exquisite acting skills. Unaware of the brewing storm, Zoey and Barlen are in the midst of obtaining their license when the news breaks. Barlen, upon reading the revelations, 'borrows' Zoey's phone and promptly turns it off, facing the onslaught of public opinion with firm evidence in hand. Surrounded by media reporters, Barlen is bombarded with questions about his perspective on the scandal. He deliberately twists the narrative: "My wife, she doesn't just love my money. Could she possibly love someone else's?" The reporters press on, clarifying their query: "Do you mean she only loves money, not you as a person?" Barlen remains composed: "She loves my money, and I love her as a person. Is there a problem with that?" In a single sentence: He redeems her with all his love and warmth. How could I not be enamored with someone like you?

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

I died beneath the Ferris wheel where Henry Cadden and Sophie Lloyd had their secret affair. Two lives were lost that day, mine and my unborn child's, but they all said it was my fate, and I deserved it. Sophie had orchestrated everything. She convinced Henry to cut our child from my body and give it to her, then stole my phone to frame me for infidelity. She also asked him not to look for me. Later, he found out the truth. The lifeless body he discovered was mine, and the child he had removed from my womb for Sophie was our own. My remains weren't even complete. He told himself it was for the best, that the child had done a good deed and would be blessed for it. But deep down, guilt consumed him. Still, in the end, he decided to marry Sophie. As my soul faded and seemed to be slipping away for good, he exposed Sophie's evil deeds at their wedding. In a final act of desperation, he dragged her and jumped down the building. She died instantly on the spot, but he didn't and went into a coma for life.

At the wedding I've spent months planning, my usually stoic fiancé, Anthony Scott, is about to run off with his assistant, Erica Jones. To top it all off, she is wearing a wedding gown. Out of nowhere, his younger brother, Christopher Scott, grabs my hand and plans to pull me straight to City Hall. He disregards my panicking eyes. "Let's get married," he says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Then, the stage decorations suddenly collapse, revealing a room full of guests mocking and laughing at me. The two men who once swore to love me forever do all just to make Erica smile. The three of them clink glasses and drink a love toast on stage, completely lost in their own moment. "The wedding you planned was way too outdated. You should thank Erica for turning it into a bachelorette party!" "The real wedding will be this Sunday. Isn't Erica's idea amazing?" Anthony and Christopher were confident that I wouldn't dare leave them. But I quietly pick up my phone and type a message. "Let's set the wedding date for this Sunday, Levi."