Recognition Caption

I can't believe I just slept with a stranger. And not just any stranger, Liam fucking Rockwell. God, this was so embarrassing. I glanced over at the him, and took time to admire his features. I wanted to pull the strands off his eyes when they fluttered open, a spark of recognition and disbelief in his icy blue eyes. My hands froze midair, my breath caught in my throat. Did he know me? Oh wait, yes he did. “Get off.” He spat coldly. Well, that's one way to handle it. Avery and Evelyn are twins that seem inseparable, even with their personality contrasts. That is until a one night stand with Evelyn's boss throws their entire life upside down. Both sisters must now choose between loyalty and love, their journey unfolding multiple secrets and putting their relationship to the test. Will their decisions make or break them?

Nia knew that her mate, Alpha Lyord of the Northwind Pack, did not want her, yet she continued to love him. She tolerated the rejection and mockery from the pack, who referred to her as a hybrid without a wolf and infertile, nothing more than a shadow of Lyord's former fiancée, Rachel. The title of Luna that she bore was merely a formality, while Rachel enjoyed all the recognition and responsibilities that should rightfully belong to Nia. After the fall of her pack, the Eastwood Pack, and her father's death, Nia was cast out by the pack and forced to divorce Lyord. In a state of heartbreak and despair, Nia decided to leave Lyord's life. However, one day, Lyord saw her with an adorable little boy in her arms. Lyord's eyes ignited with an unexpected madness, initiating an intense pursuit filled with obsession. Could Lyord win back his Luna and their child?

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

Vincent Okoye has spent a decade building a spotless reputation at London’s top tech advertising firm. Sharp, composed, and fiercely loyal, he’s finally on the brink of promotion, until everything unravels. The night he lets go of his carefully guarded control, he ends up in bed with a charming stranger. By morning, that stranger is no longer a mystery, he’s Ethan Levitt, Vincent’s new boss, old university flame, and the son of the company’s enigmatic CEO. Ethan offers him everything he’s ever wanted: recognition, influence… and maybe something dangerously close to love. But there’s a condition, complete obedience, in and out of the boardroom. Caught between the seductive pull of his past and the steady loyalty of Pascal, the man who’s stood by him for years, Vincent is forced to choose. But in a world of ambition, secrets, and shifting power, love may come with the highest price of all. Desire. Loyalty. Power. In this game, someone’s bound to lose. And Vincent can’t afford for it to be him

Six years ago, Veldana betrayed Maurice in court. Her testimony sent him, her fated mate, to the dungeon for a crime he didn’t commit. Dragged away in chains, Maurice eyes burning with hatred for her. She lost him, her dignity, and nearly her unborn child. Now, he has returned, no longer the poor boy she once loved, but a ruthless Alpha with power stretching across empires. To him, she is nothing but a liar, a traitor, and the woman who stole three years of his life. But to her, he is still the man she can’t stop loving… and the father of the daughter he doesn’t know exists. When his cold eyes fall on Veldana again, there is no recognition of their once-sacred bond. Only venom. “You’ll pay, Veldana,” he says, voice steady and lethal. And she knows he means it. She pays with her life but Maurice needs to decide if to truly live without her or exchange his life for hers.

Menjadi TKW di saat sudah menikah bukanlah hal yang mudah. Ya, aku terpaksa harus merantau ke negri orang untuk memperbaiki perekonomian keluargaku. Setiap bulan tidak pernah apsen kukirimkan uang untuk orang tuaku dan suamiku, Namun siapa sangka, uang yang aku berikan untuk orang tuaku malah dikuras habis oleh suami dan mertua, bahkan orang tuaku sendiri harus bekerja banting tulang untuk menghidupi diri mereka. Begitu banyak kebohongan yang diciptakan oleh orang-orang yang aku sayangi. Tidak hanya suami, mertua dan adik ipar tapi juga sahabatku sendiri. Ia mencuri suamiku. Awalnya aku tidak tahu namun hari itu ia memposting sebuah foto dirinya dengan mertuaku dengan keadaan perutnya yang sudah bunting, pada story itu tidak lupa dibubuhi caption yang menjelaskan bahwa ia berterima kasih pada ibu mertuaku dan mengatakan tidak sabar atas kelahiran bayinya. Aku terkejut bukan main, sedangkan ibu mertuaku hanya memiliki satu anak laki-laki yang tidak lain adalah suamiku, saat itu aku tidak tinggal diam. Langsung saja aku beranjak kembali ke negara asalku untuk membalas penghianatan suami dan sahabatku serta membongkar kebusukan mereka. Lihat bagaimana aku membalskan dendam dan membuat mereka menyesal atas perbuatan mereka.

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"