Poc Face Claims Mga Nobela at Kwento

Drenched in mud, I've just climbed down the scaffolding and started munching on a cold piece of stale bread when a luxury car speeds past me, effectively drenching me in muddy water. The car window on the driver's side is quickly lowered. A sleazy guy hurls a pack of cigarettes in my face the next moment. "Hey, peasant! This is a reward for you! I got really lucky today, after all!" While I pick up the cigarette pack silently, the man happens to be boasting loudly to the woman sitting in the front passenger seat. "My brother-in-law really is an idiot! He seriously thinks that my sister has a terminal disease! He went to the black market last night night just to sell his blood in exchange for 200 thousand dollars' worth of surgical fees! I end up winning double in the casino with that money of his! "My sister told me that once that idiot gets his hands on the work injury compensation, she'll divorce him right away and buy me a new home!" I grip the bread so hard that it crumples in my hand. After all, my wife, Estella Wilson, was just diagnosed with "late-stage stomach cancer" yesterday. Suddenly, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. It's a voice message from Estella. "Hubby, it hurts so much going through the chemotherapy! The doctor told me that I'd be eligible for better medication if we could cough up another 200 thousand dollars. Can you please plead to the foreman and borrow some money from him?"

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

The newly hired genius programmer was a proud woman who always thought she could turn the entire industry on its head. When an investor tried to pressure her into drinking, she flipped the table and slapped him across the face. "My worth is in my programming skills, not my ability to network. Asking me to drink with you is an insult." Enraged, Clint Warner immediately withdrew the eighty-million investment agreement. He even swore he would never work with us again. As the Head of Product, I scrambled to apologize. The situation was only salvaged after I drank so much that I ended up hospitalized. … Later, I complained to the boss and demanded that he discipline the new hire. To my shock, he dismissed the matter. "If the employee causes any problem, it's because the supervisor failed in their duty. The promised million-dollar dividend bonus is cancelled. Take this as your warning." Fed up, I wrote down Mary Hansen's name on the Counseling-Out List. She couldn't care less. "I have abilities you’ll never match, unlike a scheming bootlicker like you. If anyone tries to go after me, the project will be halted. Don't come crying to me when everything collapses." I did not argue with her then. However, when the Counseling-Out List was announced, I found my own name on it. The boss claimed it was a mistake to force me to leave. Then he promoted Mary to my position and even granted her the authority of a vice president. "You were only great because of the company's support. Mary's not the same. She's young and truly talented. She’ll lead us to greater heights." With a cold smirk on my face, I made my way to our competitor, taking the crucial piece of our company's technology with me.

In his bid for perpetual life, the first Don of the Bryant family annihilates the witch clan and violently takes possession of their most sacred relic. In the moments before her death, the head of the witch clan places a curse on every descendant of the Bryant family. Every descendant will suffer a sudden mutation at the age of 23, where their bodies would be covered in thick, black hair, and fangs would sprout from their mouths, turning them into monsters. They can only lift the curse if they marry a descendant of the witches. Ella Crawford—my sister—and I are the last remaining descendants of the witch clan in the human realm. In my past life, Oliver's lottery selection fell on the attractive Ella. I was aware that Ella lacked the power to lift the curse, so I secretly swapped the lots, and Oliver ended up married to me. In the end, during our wedding night, Ella set herself alight, proclaiming that she had lost her eternal love and didn't want to face life without him. As a result, Mom and Dad drove me out. Oliver, however, took me in and showered me with affection. It wasn't long before I conceived his child, and he successfully survived his 23rd birthday. Yet, barely a day later, Oliver pushed me into the fire pit. I pleaded with tears streaming down my face, "I freed you from the curse and am currently carrying your baby, Oliver, so please don't treat me like this!" Oliver merely responded with a malicious grin as he tossed the torch aside. "If it weren't for your interference, Ella would have lifted the curse for me! I would have been able to spend the rest of my life with her, Cynthia!" In the end, I was completely consumed by the flames. I suddenly open my eyes and find myself returning to the day Oliver chooses his bride by lot. I immediately snap the tampered lot, as I'm eager to find out how Ella will save Oliver without any witch powers in this life.

I had always been fragile, the kind of kid who could not handle a gust of wind without losing balance and who teared up over the smallest thing. The day my biological parents found me and took me back into their wealthy world, everything had already felt unreal. Then, things got worse. Out of nowhere, an old woman came sprinting down the street and dropped right in front of the Bentley, like she had timed it perfectly. I panicked and completely froze, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped down beside her and started crying. However, I overdid it. I cried so hard that blood started streaming from my eyes. The old woman jolted upright like she had seen something horrifying. She shoved 500 dollars into my hands, muttered a string of curses, and ran off without looking back. Just like that, I was back with the Snyder family. The house rose in front of me, all polished stone and perfectly kept lawns, like something out of a magazine. However, the closer I got, the more my nerves kicked in, and that familiar metallic taste crept up my throat again. The so-called heir walked over, smiling like we were supposed to be close. Then, he gave me a light shove. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Stay in your place. Don't start wanting things that were never yours." Right there, in front of everyone, I leaned back and collapsed. I did not move at all. He froze. His face turned red as he grabbed my collar and shook me. "Quit pretending. Get up!" A few seconds passed, then a few more, before he slowly turned his head, his movements stiff. Tiny drops of blood speckled his clothes. His voice trembled. "Mom… Dad… I think…" He swallowed hard. "I think he stopped breathing."

“My husband got his mistress pregnant… so I handed him the divorce papers.” Three years of silence. Three years of contempt. Three years living in the shadow of a man who loved someone else. Rachelle Veronesi, heiress to a fashion empire, fulfilled her end of the bargain: she was the perfect wife to Nikolai Santoro. She endured his humiliations, his cold absences, and the constant presence of Micah—the childhood friend he always chose over her. But the illusion shatters during a family dinner when Micah announces her pregnancy. Rachelle doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She walks away. With nothing but her name and her power, she reclaims her place at the top of the fashion world—stronger, colder, untouchable. Nikolai believes she’ll come crawling back. He thinks she’s nothing without him. He couldn’t be more wrong. Because as Rachelle rises, he begins to uncover the truth: the woman he trusted has been lying to him… and the child she carries isn’t even his. Now, with only three months left before the divorce is final, Nikolai is forced to face the one truth he never wanted to admit— He didn’t lose a convenient wife. He lost the only woman who ever truly loved him. And this time… she’s not coming back.

Lewis Gordon says he likes older women. Seeing that he's young, energetic, and good in bed, I agree to be his girlfriend. But when he runs into me with his friends while I'm dressed in business attire, he is stunned and doesn't know how to react. Then, he quickly introduces me. "She's just a neighbor like an auntie." What? Middle-aged? I immediately break up with him. He sends a clumsy explanation, "When you dress like a middle-aged woman, it's really embarrassing for me." I block him and don't bother replying. Five years later, I bring my son along to celebrate my husband's godfather's birthday. Lewis shows up, holding hands with his girlfriend. When he hears my son call Johann Tucker "Grandpa Johann," he pulls a long face. He blurts, "This is my son, right? He should be calling him great-grandfather." I shoot him a look of pure disgust. "He's not your son." Lewis points at my son's face and sneers, "Look at his eyes and his face. He looks exactly like me. How can you still insist he's not my son?" All I can think of is my extremely jealous husband. If he hears Lewis claiming that he's my son's father, will he go crazy and kill him?

I've traveled to Southgate to attend a water-splashing festival. A cheeky kid, who's about eight years old, keeps spraying the back of my head and my ears with water ejected from her high-pressure water gun. Half of my body is soon drenched in water. That's when I berate the kid and tell her not to aim her gun at my face. She doesn't bother stopping. On the contrary, she even has the gall to spray more water right in my face. I feel the cold water spritzing into my left eye. The pain is so intense that I can't even open my eyes. To make things worse, that kid is even howling with laughter while raising her gun proudly. "Look, Dad! He's all soggy and wet, like a limp noodle! This is fun!" The kid's father merely watches from the side. Not only does he not offer an apology to me, but he also records the whole thing on his phone. "Hey, my daughter is washing your eyes for you for free! This is an honor that no one else can ever receive, you know! Why are you acting like a complete wuss?" I swipe the liquid off my face before drawing to my feet and yelling at the crowd around me. "There's strong acid contained inside that kid's water gun! Just now, she burned my eye with it!"

The class heartthrob, Kevin Mosley, who scores only 1000 in the SATs, claims that he has successfully enrolled at Starvard University and is just waiting for the semester to begin. He even guarantees that he can get the entire class admitted as well. The whole class starts cheering and praising him for being their hero. All of them intend to let him submit their college applications for them. But something about his story doesn't sound right to me, so I ask a few more questions. That's when I discover that his so-called exclusive admission internal channel is CloudAI, which is just an AI chatbot! It confidently tells him that it has already reserved a special admission slot for him and guarantees that he can report to Starvard University when the semester starts. Trying to help, I point out that the AI is just generating conversational responses and telling him what he wants to hear. My childhood friend, Janice Hudson, is the first to jump to his defense. "Daryl Greer, how can you doubt Kevin? He's trying to help the whole class. What's it to you?" My friend, Aaron Yates, chimes in as well. "Daryl, AI is cutting-edge technology. It's the future. You can't dismiss it just because you don't understand it." Their words rile everyone up. As the argument escalates, I am shoved down a flight of stairs. I hit my head and die on the spot. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the moment when Kevin proudly announces that he's been admitted to Starvard. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. This time, I'll simply respect their choices and wish them the best.

Abhorred and burned to death, a nameless female takes on the identity of another to infiltrate the most prosperous pack in the Northwest. Her plan? Inherit the pack with the protection of her soulmate. Because she has zero faith in the resilience of a chosen mate bond, she never dated a man up to this date. On her 22nd birthday, the pressure on her increases as new foes emerge and old enemies resurface. So when Einas Raed, the Lycan Commander of the Pacific Sea, regrets his choice and asks for a second chance, she grasps the golden branch she believes would be the end to her demons. Not exactly who she claims to be, what will happen when her secret is exposed to the world? ... I am not who I say I am. I copied her face and took her name, then impersonated her to enter the Evergreen Pack. I replaced her in her family and stole her place in her pack. Neither the right to be the Alpha King's Heir nor the privileges of Alpha Malivik's daughter belong to me. Yes, I know. I am a terrible person. I am a thief. An Imposter. This is why the shame of my guilt burdens my heart, and it's eating me from the inside out. The fear of my dirty secret getting exposed has me ardently praying to the Moon Goddess. Because I copied her face, it's only a matter of time before everyone finds out I stole her identity. ... ----------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 2023 All Rights Reserved.