Report Comment

The AFA 2020, or the Antonio Facundo Awards, is a competition for journalists like Avery Taylor. It is also often open to writers and directors. They will take a subject, a prevalent person with people, and publish to the public how that person lives. Avery earns the honor of being an exceptional reporter and journalist every year. She won AFA 2019 last year, and he will never relinquish her seat. She will make sure she gets the same award again this year. All she had to do is find someone, a person everyone looked up to with a mysterious identity. Cormac Carter, one of the richest bachelors in the entire Philippines and owns one of the most popular car brands globally — C.C Cars, will be Avery’s target. He’s the gem of the competition. That man already has all the ‘ingredients’ for that, and Avery will not let the opportunity slide. With that desire, she had so much to go through, but Avery never expected that by digging into his past, she would find her past that was buried into her mind for a long time ago. The incident that caused her to be hit by a car and develop amnesia, the incident that made her feel the hardship of the past fifteen years..

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."

Gideon Hart, a man known for keeping every woman at arm's length, gets drugged and wakes up in a hotel with me lying beside him. Afterward, he comes to me and offers ten million as compensation. When I remain silent, my best friend, Lena Quimby, jumps in like she's been waiting for her cue. She snaps that money can't buy everything, trying to reject the offer on my behalf. Before I can say a word, comments start flashing before me like a live stream chat. "Here we go! The male lead, the female lead, and the side character are all on screen together!" "Lena's so classy. Way better than that gold-digger Evelyn." "Watch Evelyn reject the money and still get clowned!" "Who wouldn't pick the sweet, innocent heroine?" Glancing at Lena's flushed cheeks and the way her eyes stick to Gideon, I almost let out a cold laugh. Then, I turn to the man in front of me and hold up my Venmo QR code. "Sure. Wire it!"

The air crackled with menace, each syllable a poisoned dart. "You belong to me. You'll serve me. Do this and be quiet if you want to live." These were the ironclad words that slammed down on Miguel and Alejandro, forging a link of fear and obligation. Miguel , a shadow in the city's underbelly, found his deadly profession twisted into a personal debt. A botched hit, a life spared – the mafia prince demanded repayment in flesh and loyalty. Now, Miguel 's existence was tethered to a man he was meant to extinguish. Alejandro, the journalist with a voice too loud for the prince's liking, became collateral damage in this dangerous game. His relentless pursuit of truth had landed him squarely in the crosshairs. One careless encounter, a desperate attempt by Miguel to silence Alejandro's probing questions with a kiss – a spark ignited in the suffocating darkness. It was a kiss meant to quell, but it unfurled a landscape of unexpected desire. Suddenly, the stakes were higher than survival. The illicit touch had awakened a fierce passion, a dangerous intimacy blooming between captor and… something more. Yet, the prince's wrath was a constant shadow, threats lurked in every corner, and the chasm of their circumstances stretched between them like a vast, unforgiving ocean. Could this fragile connection withstand the forces determined to tear them apart? the constant threat of exposure, the weight of their conflicting worlds, and the ever-present danger? Could Alejandro find a way to reconcile his principles with the undeniable pull he felt for his captor? Could Miguel risk the stability of his empire for a love born in captivity? Would their love become a casualty of the very danger that brought them together, or would they fight to keep its flame alive against impossible odds?

One day, a wealthy couple is invited to give a speech at my university. My childhood sweetheart, Henry McGregor, tugs me along, eager for us to sneak out to the cafeteria and do some part-time work. He tells me to go grab the empty bucket from the shelf. But just as I take a step, a flood of messages suddenly appears in front of my eyes. [Don't touch that bucket! It's filled with scalding soup that Henry prepared. He wants to ruin your face!] [Three years ago, Henry had his first love impersonate you, becoming the long-lost daughter of the Wright family. Now, he plans to disfigure you so you'll never be able to return.] [You'll endure severe burns all over your body and undergo countless skin grafts. In the end, the fake heiress will poison you by swapping your medicine.] [Meanwhile, that scumbag will marry into the Wright family. Along with the impostor, they'll drain the Wrights of everything they have.] [You need to go back right now and let Mrs. Wright see your face. This is your only chance to reclaim your rightful place as their daughter!] At that moment, I hear Henry urging me again to hurry and move the bucket. As I glance at the flood of messages once more, I freeze, stopping dead in my tracks.

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."

Suis-je maudite ? comment la déesse de la lune a pu m'attribuer deux compagnons ?un loup et un hybride . Je suis dans la merde. Aucun des n'est commode, un hybride (vampire-sorcier , qui cache un loup-garou) contre un lycan , n'est ce pas la fin du monde ? comment faire un choix. Et moi qui suis-je ?

"Win his trust and report to me." Lord Callum is the son of one of the world's richest men. He's also the youngest one. And with that, he was never expected to be the head of the family. Living a life of privilege and variety, he often spends his time in an unsuitable for his background company. Seeking the thrill and being easily bored with everything, he's unpredictable. Until one day Oliver- his new valet - shows up and that changes his whole life. Oliver is hired by Callum's father and the servant is supposed to report to the old Lord all of his son's actions and missteps. But something happens between Oliver and Callum that no one could have predicted.

"Jamie, I've decided. I'm ready to join you at Hillridge as your exclusive screenwriter. I'll be there by the end of this month!" Melanie huddled in a quiet corner on the set as she made the call, a pregnancy test report clutched in her hand. She tried to shake off the chill from the freezing weather, but her hands and feet still felt painfully cold. Jamie's voice at the end of the line was a deep and pleasant baritone. "Your talent has long deserved a bigger stage. For eight years, you've turned me down nearly a hundred times for Ken's sake. Are you ready to leave him this time?" "Yes. I'm leaving him for good!" She clenched the pregnancy test report, her lips a bitter smile.

My husband, Gabriel Buckner, and I had been married for three years. I'd gotten pregnant twice, but I'd lost both babies. It was all because of my in-laws' parrot that could talk. The first time I got pregnant and went to their house, the parrot stared at my belly and kept repeating, "Get rid of the baby! Get rid of the baby!" The second time, the same thing happened. It looked right at my stomach and said the same words. I thought it was just nonsense, but to my shock, my in-laws actually took the parrot seriously and forced me to end the pregnancy. I even showed them the prenatal checkup report from my doctor to prove that the baby was perfectly healthy and begged them not to do it. But they dragged me to the hospital anyway and made me have an abortion on the spot. When I got pregnant a third time, I wanted to be extra cautious. I went straight for an amniocentesis. The report confirmed the baby was healthy and even showed a 99.9% DNA match with Gabriel's. I thought everything would be fine this time. But as soon as the parrot saw me again, it repeated the same words—"Get rid of the baby." And just like before, the Buckners immediately tried to drag me to the hospital. I couldn't understand it. The baby was perfectly healthy, and the DNA report proved it was Gabriel's child. So why would they rather believe a parrot and insist that I get rid of the baby?