Read Me When Letters

Eliana is an independent architect living alone in the city. A bread winner and a woman near her thirty's being pressured by her family to settle down but Eliana has other plan. Hindi ang pag-aasawa ang priority niya kung hindi ang big project na matagal na niyang hinihintay bilang isang architect. And this is the part where Eliana meets Sylvan, a famous engineer with a bad temper with female architect, as they joined to complete a big project. Eliana and Sylvan in one big project that resulted in one night's mistake. How did the bad temper Sylvan ended up waking up in one bed with the independent and mature Eliana? How will they deal with the aftermath of that one hot steamy night they've shared?

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

I’m the Vettori family princess. The only one. It was our fifth anniversary. A big dinner party at the estate. A waiter spilled red wine on my husband Marco, heir to the Rossi family. My best friend, Sofia, slapped the waiter. Hard. Then she was all over Marco, helping him out of his jacket. Her hand lingered on his waist. A second too long. I just stood there, watching. Sofia saw me. "I was just closer, that's all. Helping him clean up. Don't overthink it." I just smiled. Grabbed my glass. I went to make the rounds with the old dons from the other families. I would finish this night with my head held high. Later that night, Marco crawled into my bed, stinking of booze. His hands were on my waist. He wanted sex. I pushed him off. "The alliance is over," I said, my voice dead. "We're finished." Marco sobered up fast. His face went cold. "I'm trying to apologize here. You're divorcing me because Sofia helped me with my jacket?" I laughed. He didn’t get it. Not until I threw the proof of his betrayal in his face. Not until I cut him off from my family. Then he was on his knees, crying, begging me to forgive him.

Mi novio, Pablo Pimentel, es el heredero de la familia más poderosa de la capital. Su fortuna supera los cien mil millones de dólares. Para ponerme a prueba, durante siete años de relación, nunca me regaló nada, nunca gastó un solo centavo en mí. Ni siquiera cuando iba a comprar condones: insistía en pagar mitad y mitad. Después, mi madre se enfermó de gravedad. Les pedí dinero a todos los familiares y amigos que pude. Solo me faltaban dos mil dólares para cubrir el costo de la cirugía. Le supliqué, le rogué. Pero Pablo no me prestó ni un dólar. Tuve que pagar yo sola los gastos del funeral de mi madre. Cuando regresé a casa para recoger mis cosas, encontré por casualidad una lista de regalos que le había comprado a Sara García: una villa de lujo, bolsos de marcas exclusivas, joyas valoradas en cientos de millones de dólares… También vi los audios en el grupo con sus amigos: "Pablo, ¿es cierto que Leticia se arrodilló para pedirte dos mil dólares?" Pablo se rió con frialdad, su voz sonó despreocupada, casi divertida. "Sara tenía razón: quien se arrodilla por tan poco dinero no es más que una interesada. Apenas llevamos siete años juntos y ya está desesperada por sacarme dinero." Resultó que siete años de "prueba" no valieron más que un comentario venenoso de su vecinita de al lado. No importa. Desde el momento en que mi madre murió, ya lo había decidido: desaparecer de su vida para siempre.

Dos semanas antes de la boda, Nelson decidió posponerla una vez más. —Ivana inaugura su primera exposición de arte ese día —me dijo—. Estará sola y nerviosa. Tengo que estar ahí para apoyarla. Al final, tú y yo ya estamos juntos, ¿qué más da casarnos un día antes o después? Pero ya era la tercera vez que aplazaba nuestra boda por aquella mujer. La primera, Ivana acababa de operarse y sentía nostalgia de la comida de su tierra, por lo que Nelson no dudó en viajar al extranjero y quedarse con ella durante dos meses. La segunda, Ivana decidió irse al bosque en busca de inspiración para pintar y él, preocupado por su seguridad, fue tras ella. Esta era la tercera. Colgué la llamada y miré a César, mi amigo de toda la vida, quien se encontraba sentado frente a mí, relajado, jugando con su bastón de esmeralda, cuyo golpeteo en el piso de mármol rompía el silencio entre nosotros. —¿Todavía necesitas esposa? —le pregunté, sonriendo con picardía. El día de mi boda, Ivana sonreía radiante, copa en mano, esperando el brindis del hombre a su lado. Pero él, con los ojos rojos, observaba en silencio la transmisión en vivo de la boda del heredero del Grupo Santos, el imperio inmobiliario más grande del país.

René Huang is a French-Chinese Painter who lives in France. He lives alone there when his parents are living in China. He is famous, rich, and handsome. Everything in his life was perfect until finally, unexpected events started happening in his life. He painted some paintings in his sleep, and there was a secret behind them. He wanted to find out the secret, and when he became a guest lecturer in an art university, he met a student who was related to the paintings. Their relationship was not good at first, but when they were investigating the paintings together, the romance started blooming. Note: This novel is inspired by my fanfiction that was posted on another platform. The idea and the story are mines. No plagiarism. Cover by MichelleLeeee

My wolf had been wounded by silver. It took me two years to find a rare herbal cure. But before I could use it, my mate, Gary, gave it away—without hesitation—to my adopted sister, the Black clan’s darling, Jane. The healer told me I had only one week left to live. So, I made a decision: I would freeze my body. Preserve it. I donated myself to Jane’s Werewolf Research Facility—the one she took such pride in. The day I signed the donation agreement, my pup threw himself into my arms and said, “Mommy and Aunt Jane are finally getting along again!” My parents praised me, saying I had finally learned what sisterhood meant. Gary looked relieved. “You’ve finally let go of your resentment,” he said. “I’m proud of you.” I smiled faintly. Yes. I’ve finally learned to obey. I would return the title of Black clan heiress to Jane, and did my best to grant everyone their wishes. But it was only when they realized I could no longer fight back— when my body had been sealed away in cryostasis, cold and silent— that the regret began. Suddenly, they wanted to bleed for me. They wanted to compensate. They wanted to follow me into the grave. But where were they when I needed them, when I was still alive?

After being sent back in time, Emma Horten did two things. The first thing she did was abandon her ungrateful husband and son; the second thing she did was set out to rebuild her career.

"If life has a physical form, I would've planned a revenge, but life has none. So I'll just move on to the life's most beloved... the world." - Kirsten Mosqueda --- School's Mister friendly, Tyson Guevarra, finds a strange notebook sitting on the chair of the bus stop. Out of curiosity, he picked it up only to find a strange letter entitled 'When the f***ing world ends.' Intrigued as to how and why did the owner wrote the letter. He plans to get closer to her, oblivious to the fact that every step he take exposes him into a great danger. ------- DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Story started: 060921 Store ended: --/--/--

🆃🅷🅴🆁🅴 🅸🆂 🆁🅴🅰🅻🅻🆈 🅰 🅲🅷🅰🅽🅲🅴 🅸🅽 🆃🅷🅸🆂 🅻🅸🅵🅴🆃🅸🅼🅴 🆃🅾 🅼🅴🅴🆃 🅰 🅱🅰🅳 🅱🅾🆈. 🆆🅴 🅳🅾🅽'🆃 🆆🅰🅽🆃 🆃🅷🅴🅼, 🅱🆄🆃 🆆🅷🅰🆃 🅸🅵 🆈🅾🆄🆁 🆂🆃🆄🅿🅸🅳 🅷🅴🅰🆁🆃 🆆🅰🅽🆃🆂 🅷🅸🅼? 🆆🅷🆈 🅳🅾 🆆🅾🅼🅴🅽 🅿🆁🅴🅵🅴🆁 🅱🅰🅳 🅱🅾🆈🆂 🆃🅷🅰🅽 🆂🅰🅽🅴 🅶🆄🆈🆂 🅰🅽🆈🆆🅰🆈? 🆆🅷🅰🆃🅴🆅🅴🆁, 🅻🅴🆃 🅼🅴 🆂🆃🅰🆁🆃 🅴🅻🅰🅱🅾🆁🅰🆃🅸🅽🅶, 🅰🅽🅳 🅻🅴🆃'🆂 🅵🅸🅽🅳 🅾🆄🆃 🅰🆃 🆃🅷🅴 🅴🅽🅳 🆆🅷🆈 ... Justine Villafranca is the infamous son of a General, (who made a pact with his bestfriend to marry their children) . His son has no interest in business, it only causes headaches and trouble. So he came up with a good idea, this is probably the right time to teach him a lesson, he won't bequeath an inheritance to him if he doesn't marry Angela Dela Vega. What would happen if an angel and a demon lived together in the same place? Will these two different people get along well? Will it snow in hell or will the sky burn with heat ... ©All Rights Reserved