Romantic Story

My neighbors across the hall had a nasty habit of stealing. This included my food deliveries, my shoes from the cabinet, and even my clothes drying on the rooftop. Nothing was safe from them. I had enough. One day, I placed a pair of shoes borrowed from my friend, who was battling an extreme case of athlete’s foot, outside my door. Not long after they stole them, they came banging on my door in the middle of the night, furious about the outbreak on their feet. They even filed a complaint at the hospital where I work. I was so furious that I invited a few homeless patients to move in. A muscular man with HIV, an elderly woman with syphilis, and a young man with severe mental health issues became their new neighbors. The thieves could not handle it and begged the landlord to evict them. However, the joke was on them. My family owned the entire building. If anyone was leaving, it certainly was not me.

A group of unexpected guests suddenly barged into my relative’s funeral. The woman, Xena Carter, leading them claimed to be my husband’s girlfriend and declared that she was here to punish me, the supposed mistress. Out of respect for the funeral, I did not want to make a scene, so I calmly suggested she wait until it was over. But out of nowhere, she lashed out and ordered her group to shred all of my clothes. My relatives around us did nothing and watched coldly as it happened. I calmly dusted myself off, stood up, and led her over to the urn. "This urn for my mother was bought by your boyfriend. It cost nearly a million!" As expected, the mistress flew into a rage, smashing the urn to pieces. "You shameless family of lowlifes! Don’t think you’ll get a single cent from my boyfriend, even in death!" What she did not know was that when I said "mother," I was referring to my husband’s mother, my mother-in-law. She was causing a scene at my mother-in-law’s funeral, and she had just smashed her urn to pieces.

While on a business trip, I stumbled into my brother-in-law, Julian Zeller, mid-act with a male colleague in a hotel parking lot. Furious, I blew the lid off his fake marriage and helped my sister, Yvonne Sutton, escape that scumbag. But after the divorce, she lost his financial support. She spiraled, blaming me for destroying her perfect marriage. She even killed me for trying to stop her from going back to him. Then, everything resets. I wake up, and there he is—slipping into the car while hugging the same man. I pocket my phone. This time, I won't ruin Yvonne's happy ending.

After my husband cheats, my relatives advise me to be tolerant and forgiving. Why? Because my husband's mistress is pregnant, and I'm infertile. Even his parents hurry to our house in the middle of the night to say, "Don't worry—we won't let that woman step foot in this house. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours." Is that so? I sneer as I look at a medical report. Perhaps the child will have something to do with me, but it definitely won't have anything to do with my husband.

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.

With my refreshing and elegant appearance and my kind heart, I became a top-rated celebrity in the entertainment industry.However, the elderly woman I helped ended up deceiving me, trapping me together with her mentally retarded son.While I was raped, she just watched with cold indifference and even took a video to blackmail me."Leona Hansom, since you are so kind, why don't you help me have a grandson?" she said.I tried to escape, but she posted the video online, claiming that I was her son's wife.My career was ruined. My fiancé suffered greatly, but he still killed that woman's son, ending up badly. Yet those I had helped were only interested in the videos the woman had shot and asked for related resources online.Abandoned by the whole world, I leaped from a building with hatred and despair.And so, I was reborn.

All Sahara wants is a peaceful life away from the slums of Outcast, Ireland. Her miserable life will now end... but on her way to escape her hard life, she sees a young lad being thrown into the dark alleys. The rightest ting to do is run away, but she found herself moving closer to the almost-dead body and engaged herself in a roller-coaster ride of life surprises, death, and syndicates. Will she take care of a man with nothing but a diary or will she save herself from trouble? Find out in this nerve-thrilling, romantic, and inspiring story of Sahara and Aztec in The Diary of the Lost.

“In every enchanting story, there's a beast that will beat you up. At ikaw 'yong beast na binabanggit ko.” I have a boss who is always telling about how slow-witted I am. He's sharp-tongued with a rough attitude and unyielding standards. “Parang lahat na yata ng masamang pag-uugali ay nasa iyo na.” I thought there's no romantic between us that blooms amidst the chaos. Our relationship has not been good, but we prove that hates and opposites truly attract. — Helliry Chrysopeleia Flieyh Dizon. His Slow-witted Maid

What if your sworn childhood enemy is your mate ? Alphas and Betas of the same pack are usually the best of friends or at best, cordial co-workers and administrators. What if the future Alpha and Beta of a pack, are constantly at each other’s throats since their early childhood ? What will they do when fate plays dirty with them, when they need to not only tolerate each other as prime leaders of a ginormous, powerful pack but also stay together as mates ! Is this the Moon Goddess’ way of mocking them or is this her way to etch a heart thumping, romantic story to teach generations to come that love sees no boundaries ?