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."

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."

My mate, Loki Olson, was the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack, the strongest warrior in the pack. Yet he was colder to me than winter stone, stingy with even the smallest trace of warmth. It was only after my hair had turned completely white that I accidentally saw him gazing at a photograph of my sister, Alice Brewer, his eyes full of longing and tenderness. That was when I finally understood why Loki had never held a mating ceremony with me. His heart had always belonged to Alice. Marrying me was nothing more than fulfilling an agreement made with my father. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at our bonding ceremony. Without mercy, Loki tore up our wedding contract in front of everyone, then reached for Alice's hand and announced their engagement amid the cheers and blessings of countless werewolves. As for me, I picked up the phone and called my father, the former Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'm willing to take Alice's place and marry into the Goldlush Pack."

Habang brutal akong pinapaslang ng kriminal, ang dad ko, ang head ng Criminal Investigation Division, at ang mom ko, ang Chief Forensic Pathologist, ay nanonood sa laban ng kapatid kong si Lily Lambert. Bilang paghihiganti, ang kriminal, na dating nahuli ng dad ko, ay pinutol ang dila ko at ginamit ang phone ko upang tawagan siya. Isang bagay lang ang sinabi ng dad ko bago niya binaba ang tawag. “Anuman ang nangyayari, ang laban ni Lily ang pangunahing prayoridad ngayong araw!” Ngumisi ang kriminal, “Mukhang maling tao ang dinukot ko. Akala ko mas mahal nila ang tunay nilang anak!” Sa pinangyarihan ng krimen, nagulat ang mga magulang ko sa brutal na kalagayan ng bangkay at kinasuklaman nila ang kawalan ng awa ng killer. Subalit, hindi nila napagtanto na ang gula-gulanit na bangkay na iyon ay ang sarili nilang anak.

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

The enemies of my adopted sister's parents mistook me for her and kidnapped me. Before the rogues killed me, they gave me three phone calls for help. If anyone was willing to give me three hundred dollars, I could live. For the first call, I dialed my father. Father didn't listen to a word I said. He immediately unleashed a torrent of curses. "Where the hell are you? Get your ass back home right now for your sister's birthday!" For the second call, I dialed my brother. My brother listened silently to my plea for help, then hung up with a cold snort. "You're never around when the pack needs you. Who's going to fall for this act now?" For the third call, I dialed my fiancé. He didn't even answer. When I called again, I'd been blocked. The rogue wolf laughed at me. "Looks like being the eldest daughter of the Ashwood family doesn't mean much, does it?" After he tortured me to death, he stuffed my body into a suitcase and threw it in the river.