Prank Call Jacob Sartorius

“Apa!!!” Deva setengah teriak setelah mendengarkan apa yang dikatakan wanita di depannya yang selalu dipanggil Boss oleh orang-orang di kantornya. Wanita yang duduk santai sambil menatap wajah Deva yang pucat pasi setelah mendengarkan apa yang dikatakannya tanpa wajah bersalah yang bernama Adelia Cantara Hermawan, nama itu terpampang jelas di papan nama di meja kerja wanita itu “Apa kau tuli?” tanya wanita itu. Deva terbelalak, sikapnya langsung salah tingkah di depan wanita itu, dia tidak percaya hari ini dia di lamar oleh bosnya sendiri. “Anda bercandakan,” kata Deva mencoba tertawa dan berharap ini hanya prank belaka, tapi wajah dingin bosnya membuat senyum di bibir Deva langsung hilang begitu saja. “Kau sudah berapa lama bekerja denganku, apakah aku tipe orang yang mempunyai waktu untuk bercanda?” jawab Adelia. Deva berdiri lalu berkacak pinggang, “Ini bukanlah hal yang dapat anda putuskan sendiri, bagaimana anda bisa memanggil saya lalu meminta saya untuk menikah dengan anda, bagi saya menikah harus dengan orang yang kita cintai,” kata Deva panjang lebar. Adelia menyenderkan badannya di kursi sambil melipat tangannya, “Kau kira aku benar-benar ingin menikahimu?” kata Adelia lagi sambil membuka laci mejanya dan mengeluarkan sebuah map hijau ke atas mejanya.

On the day of my 30th birthday, my CEO wife, Sabrina Langford, leaves hurriedly at 3:00 am. She claims that there's something urgent going on at the company and that she won't be home the whole day. Later on, Timothy Cross, the low-income university student that Sabrina has been sponsoring, updates his social media feed. In the photo, I see Sabrina standing at the side of the road in a bikini. Two big apples are balanced on her 36D bust. The caption of the photo is, "The beautiful and hot CEO has personally come over to my house to help me sell the homegrown apples. You'll regret it if you don't buy these apples from me!" My brows are drawn into a frown immediately. When I call Sabrina, the call goes through rather quickly. "I told you I'm very busy at the company right now. If you disturb me again, I'm not going to forgive you this easily!" After that, Sabrina ends the call. But right before the call gets cut off, I can hear a car honking in her background. I'm not mad at her at all. She likes helping others to sell fruits, right? I might as well lend her a helping hand. So, I share the social media post to the company's group chat. The message I've drafted is, "Does anyone here want a batch of rotten apples? I'll even throw in a second-hand wife for free."

"Althea." I still. I shiver. He says my name like it's sacred, like it's an oath he's swearing. He tilts his head to the side, eyes roaming over my face. "Tell me," he murmurs, "what do you want me to call you?" My eyes slowly meet his, confused by his question. "What do you want to call me?" "I want to call you mine.” *** Althea Gray is a bullied omega who has fought for survival at every turn of her entire life. When she discovers her boyfriend of three years has been cheating on her, heartbreak is the least of her problems. She's been chosen for the deadly Mate Games, a brutal competition where females from all parts of the kingdom, fight for the chance to win the favor and heart of the ruthless Alpha prince. Prince Asher Valebrook is as cold as his ice-blue stare, and he has no interest in love. Althea knows better than to want him, but a reckless one-night stand might seal her fate. Though she and Asher claim to hate each other, the line between love and hate is dangerously thin. With betrayals lurking in every shadow and survival far from guaranteed, Althea must play the game wisely. But in a palace built on blood and lies, winning Asher's heart might be the deadliest challenge of all.

One day, Fisya Jazira lost all her savings and the small apartment she had bought with great difficulty. What's even sadder is that all of this was the work of her lover—Dean Brasta. She, who was on the verge of despair, decided to commit suicide. However, just as she was about to do that, suddenly a call stopped Fisya's steps. The call 'Mama' came out of the mouth of the boy who was hugging her leg. That boy was Adnan Adzura, the son of a famous billionaire—Regan Adzura. It's not enough to stop there. Fisya is faced with many bodyguards pointing guns at her. Finally, a proud and handsome man approached her and confessed that Adnan was his son. Upon hearing that name, Fisya finds out that he is not a random man, but the CEO of a well-known company—Regan Adzura dan the man asked her to make an agreement to be a surrogate mother for his son for 1 year. Will Fisya agree to it?

Due to a conspiracy, she was forced to marry on behalf of her sister, the groom being the third son from the top-tier Windsor family. Rumors had it that Oliver was weak and sickly with an ugly appearance. However, who is this man in front of her who is so handsome that people are envious, and has a body comparable to a male model?! A subordinate reported, 'Mr.Windsor, your wife has been set up by the investors.' Oliver replied, 'Trace the funds, retaliate!' The subordinate reported again, 'Oliver, netizens are pairing your wife with a male model.' Oliver went into Natalie Watson's live broadcast room and started sending spaceship gifts like crazy, 'Sweetie, call me Darling!' Natalie Watson thought this marriage was a prison, yet he doted on her until she was in heaven. From then on, her cheating ex-boyfriend and trashy sister have to respectfully call her Aunt!"

I had everything planned a month in advance for our holiday. I was going to take my wife and daughter on a trip to see the country's beautiful landscapes, but just before we were supposed to leave, they both disappeared. I ended up standing alone in the pouring rain, trying to call them. My daughter's voice came through over the phone—it was cold and impatient. "Mommy's having dinner with Uncle Skyler. We don't want to go anymore." Right after that, the call was cut off. I had been blocked. They locked me out of the house on purpose and left me to freeze out there all night. The rain had already drenched me, and I was running a high fever that turned into pneumonia. Meanwhile, the two of them were off enjoying a vacation with Skyler Shire. That was the moment I knew—this marriage was well and truly over.

A particular class from a particular high school find themselves in an adventurous life threatening situation. They either call it quits and die or overcome thier difference to survive their unknown predicament. But one thing is certain, thier class rep and captain is determined to make sure everyone survives.

It's my wedding day. However, Julian Lancaster shoves me aside when he receives a call from Vivienne Hayes. "I'm sorry, honey. Vivi has an upset stomach—I need to bring her some medication for that."

They say it takes two to tango. A relationship needs two people to make it work. But what if I tell you that it's not just one who caught her interest, but four hot men? She's into four damn handsome men, each with their unique personality. "They call them the Four Hotties, but I call them temptation, secrets, and the kind of love that's worth every risk," Via remarked with a smirk. Her motto in life echoed through the air, "Date more, find joy, don't stick to one boy." Does that make her a selfish whore? Hell no! There are plenty of men in this world, and the supply isn't running out anytime soon. Via Rosalind Hawthorne, a cheer captain at Woodbridge University finds herself caught in a problem that will bring her closer to four hotties. Which leads her in making the operation make the four hotties obsessed with her.

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.