Rooftop Atap

I thought it was guilt more than anything else. I was sleeping with my ex-fiancé’s father, and even though I didn’t know where it would lead, I knew I didn’t want it to end. Liv Bennett believed she had her future figured out; A stable career, a man she loved, and a wedding just a night away. But everything fell apart the night she caught her fiancé, Aaron Blackwood, in bed with her stepsister. Crushed and humiliated, Liv ran from the humiliation of her life and ended up on the rooftop of the hotel, drunk. That night, she found comfort in the arms of a stranger and they shared a heated and passionate night. But when morning came, she discovered the truth: he was Kaelon Blackwood, Aaron’s father. Liv tried to walk away, but fate had other plans. Caught in the middle of a scandal she never asked for, Liv had to face her past and confront the consequences of one impulsive night. Kaelon was everything she shouldn’t want; Older, powerful, and far too close to the man who broke her heart. But he was also the one person who made her feel safe again. As her world unraveled, Liv had to decide if she would walk away from the man who could destroy her; Or embrace the one who might just save her.

The proud and spirited Evelyn White relentlessly pursued the aloof and cold-hearted Julian Moore, eventually becoming Mrs. Moore as she had dreamed. For Julian, Evelyn, the once-proud princess, lowered her noble head. However, after their marriage, she discovered that he still kept his first love in his heart, an unforgettable shadow from his past. Evelyn became the subject of ridicule among the affluent socialites of Riverdale’s elite circles. One day, a heated argument escalated into a dramatic rooftop scene, captured by someone with ill intent and swiftly posted online, making Evelyn the target of public scorn across the city. When she regained consciousness, all memories of him were gone. Evelyn asked, “Sir, may I ask who you are?” Julian replied, “Eve, pretending to have amnesia is such a cliché. I won’t divorce you.” However, Evelyn really turned and walked away without looking back. Three years later. A little girl with delicate features accidentally fell into Julian’s arms. Seeing the familiar figure that haunted his dreams, Julian instinctively blurted out, “Eve, this is... our child?” Evelyn, holding the arm of a charming and elegant man beside her, smiled and said, “Mr. Moore, let me introduce you—this is the father of my child!”

On my wedding day, Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend sent word that she was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to wear a wedding dress once in her life. Ethan locked me in the waiting room while he prepared to hold the ceremony with her instead of me to fulfill this wish. I heard his impatient voice through the door as he said to me, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with granting her one final wish?" Later, the guy next door who had carried a torch for me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him. Ethan stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Are you really going to throw away our seven-year relationship just for him?" I brushed his hand away. "Should I just let him die? It's only a marriage certificate. Where's your compassion now?"

I was nine months pregnant when a man ambushed me, dragging me to the rooftop and repeatedly stabbing me. He had a grudge against my husband for replacing him. Meanwhile, my husband, a rescue team leader, was frantically coordinating efforts to stop his depressed ex-lover from burning down a rental apartment. I never called for his help. In a previous life, I had desperately called him, and he had abandoned his ex-lover to rush to my side. As a result, my child and I survived the attack, but his ex-lover perished in the fire she ignited. My husband seemed unfazed, even booking a VIP delivery room for me. Yet, on the day I was to give birth, he bound me and brutally stabbed our newborn multiple times. "You were in on this plot, weren't you?" he snarled. "Those wounds? They're nothing! You weren't even close to dying!" "Oh, you like being stabbed so much? I'll give you exactly what you want!" Suddenly, I found myself back on the day of the kidnapping. This time, I decided to let him go save his precious ex-lover.

Nate Rhoven, came from a wealthy family, one of the well-known billionaires. He may be a billionaire but he was not the type of some guy that most women love to be seen in public, he was a nerdy-strange guy- Always wore a collared shirt, eyeglass, in short, a simple man, yet respectful, loving and caring. But then he was heartbroken when his girlfriend left her. 2 days after their break up, they were invited to a party. Nate went to the rooftop to relax and chill alone just to found out his ex flirting with her new BF. He was about to leave but they noticed him before he could take a step and thought that he was stalking them. He couldn't say a word to explain and the fact that they won't believe him. But then a moment later a sudden woman just kiss her out of nowhere, and when he noticed his ex looking at them, he thought he could use the girl as an excuse and kissed her back. He was busy staring at his ex when the girl suddenly slapped her for kissing her. He was mad, the fact that she was the one who suddenly kissed him and ruined his first kiss... but in the end, he was the one who became the victim. Ten years later, they will meet again and surprisingly he became a hot man- he was not that nerdy guy anymore.

The wealthy Hanson family makes it clear that whichever sister gives birth to the family's first grandson will inherit the billion-dollar fortune. In my previous life, my sister, under our parents' arrangement, married the strong and healthy third son, Jerome Hanson. I, on the other hand, was given to the gloomy eldest son, Lester Hanson, whose legs were paralyzed. Under my treatment, Lester regained full use of his legs. I became pregnant with the Hanson family's first grandson. Meanwhile, my sister was driven to madness by Jerome's abuse, becoming the laughingstock of every wealthy woman's dinner gossip. On the day I went into labor, my sister stabbed my belly with a knife. Then, she pulled me off a rooftop with her. Now, in this life, we start over. The moment Lester sends over a golden bridal bouquet, my sister snatches it without hesitation. "I want to marry Lester!" she declares.

When my boyfriend invited me to the school rooftop to watch the fireworks, I went with excitement and anticipation. But what awaited me was a nightmare—a group of thugs ready to destroy me. They tore my clothes off, burned me with cigarettes, and used various objects to torture me. My boyfriend stood there, casually recording everything with his phone. He sneered, "Melanie, this is what you owe Sofia. You'll spend your entire life paying for what happened to her." It turned out he never truly loved me. The time we spent together was all part of his twisted plan for revenge, a plan crafted for his sister. Later, standing by the ocean, I called him. Through tears, I asked, "Will giving my life atone for what happened to your sister?"

SHE WAS a typical student who always got bullied in the Stoneheart University, not because of her looks but because of her magic. She always believed that she was just a weak enchanter since the first time she used magic. However, things started to change the moment she encountered a weird guy who seemed to love black at an abandoned building's rooftop inside their school. Slowly, her unknown fate started to unfold. Out of the ten types of magic existing in their world with a lot of subtypes, why would she have to possess such a controversial one? Instead of not being able to use mana the way she wanted to, why must she have to obtain the one that is unwanted? Dark. Black. Two similar words that were always seen by people as evil. Light. White. Two words that were always regarded as good. In a world where everyone has a negative thought about black magic, could a person born with it last until the end while assuming she has such a difficult task she didn't even wish for? Book cover by Ate Angelica Maghirang

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend. Milton Woodard vowed I could ask for anything. Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up." Then I walked away without a backward glance. Milton smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention. He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn. In my last life, I proposed to him and won. Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself. Milton unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement. When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver. I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table. Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."