Rwby Phone

Amnesia’s Curse, Mafia’s Love Aurelia Noelle Montclair, the Billionaire Queen heiress, had everything beauty, power, and a future waiting for her. Pero hindi lahat masaya sa success niya. Her stepmother, Isabella, secretly planned her death to take all the wealth and control the Montclair empire. One night after work, Aurelia’s car was sabotaged. While she was on the phone with her best friend, the brakes failed, leading to a tragic crash. The world believed she was gone. Pero fate had other plans. Aurelia survived but lost her memory. A poor yet loving family found her and gave her a new name Celeste Amara Valdez. She started a new life, simple and far from the world of riches she once knew. Enter Alessio Rafael Moretti, a half-Filipino, half-Italian billionaire mafia boss feared by many. When their paths crossed, destiny sparked between them. Pero Alessio knew love was dangerous in his world. Kahit tinutulak niya palayo si Celeste, he secretly protected her. As Celeste regains fragments of her past, the truth about her stepmother’s betrayal slowly comes out. She must face who she really is Aurelia, the lost heiress while Alessio must decide if he’s willing to risk everything for love.

We got caught in a blizzard—me, my fiancé Melvin Dunn, a few of his colleagues, including Sally Blom. Middle of the night, I woke up shaking. My heavy-duty sleeping bag—the one built for minus forty—was gone. In its place? A flimsy summer quilt. Sally was curled up in my bag, fast asleep in Melvin's arms. I shoved him hard. "Why is she in my sleeping bag?" He pulled me aside, whispering, "Keep your voice down. Sally's kinda fragile—she's about to catch a cold. You're strong. You'll be fine." I pointed at my feet, already numb. "So I'm supposed to freeze to death for you two because she's 'fragile'?" He frowned. "God, Peyton, stop being so dramatic. It's just a sleeping bag. Think about the team for once." I laughed, tears slipping down my face. Didn't say another word. Just crawled back into the corner, grabbed the sat phone, and called my brother—Captain of Stormfang Rescue, an elite international search and rescue team. "Hugh, come get me. The coordinates are... Remember—I'm alone."

My sister, Vivian Richmond, is celebrating her birthday with the rest of the family while I lie trapped in an abandoned factory, bleeding heavily. She's hired four thugs to torture me, and they've left me fighting for my life. I crawl toward my phone with what little strength I have left. When I finally reach it, I call my husband, Ethan Monroe. "Ethan, I'm seriously injured. Come save me now… I'm at the factory nearby. It won't take much of your time…" He scoffs at my weak, desperate voice. "Sienna, whining won't get you anywhere. Are you playing the victim now?" he says. "You'll stop at nothing to ruin Vivian's birthday party, huh? Hurry back with a gift and apologize to her, or I won't go easy on you this time." Before I can speak, I hear Vivian calling his name over the line. Ethan has no idea that the moment the call ends, I no longer need his forgiveness. He doesn't know that the foul, rotting corpse that makes even an experienced forensic pathologist like him recoil in disgust belongs to the wife he's hated for years.

On the day of our engagement, as we were driving to the banquet hall, a man holding a few-month-old baby stepped in front of our car. My first thought was that it was some kind of scam. I was about to get out and deal with him when I saw the panic on his face. "Cassidy," he said desperately, "our baby won't stop crying. Do you think something's wrong?" The moment she heard that, my fiancée shoved me out of the car. She took off with them without a single glance back. I just stood there in shock. So this was the truth. She'd been hiding a child with her ex all along. Alone, I went to the banquet hall to handle what remained of our celebration. Later, she called. "I feel terrible about this," she said. "I thought if I gave him the baby and gave you the marriage, it would balance things out. But when Stanley showed up today, I realized—he's the only one I want." I was done with her games. If that's how she felt, I'd walk away. So I made a simple phone call. "Grandma, I'm coming home. I'm ready to run the family business now."

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

My breathing was still uneven when Robert’s phone lit up on the nightstand. One new message. "Robert, there’s thunder. I’m scared." —Sarah. The words cut through me like ice water. Robert. My mate. The Alpha of the Ashborn Pack. The man everyone praises as the perfect future king. And me? I’m his Luna. Supposedly the rightful queen at his side. But no matter the circumstance, no matter the weight of his responsibilities, the first person he thinks of is never me. It’s always her. At the banquet, when the elders forced him to make a choice—me, his Luna, or her—the room fell into a suffocating silence. I still remember the way my heart begged him to look at me, just once, just long enough to see what he was about to destroy. But his answer came sharp, quick, without hesitation. "Sarah." One word. One name. And with it, he tore my entire world apart. That was the moment I understood: not every betrayal needs to be shouted or confessed. Sometimes, it’s as simple as the name a man chooses to speak. I loved him. I bled for him. But love means nothing if I’m nothing to him. So if destiny has already been written against me… then I’ll be the one to set it on fire.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

In my previous life, my boyfriend's younger sister came to the CT room for a check-up. As always, I asked the routine questions about whether she was pregnant or planning to be within the next six months. After all, CT scans involve radiation. It could harm the fetus. She had confidently said no. However, when I handed her the consent form to sign, her face suddenly changed. She immediately pulled out her phone and called my boyfriend, claiming I was putting on airs and making things difficult for her. Soon after, my boyfriend called me. “Don’t make things difficult with my sister over something so trivial. You’re putting me in the middle. I swear on my life she’s not pregnant!” Trusting him, I skipped the consent form and went ahead with the scan. However, the results clearly showed she was pregnant, and not just newly. His family dragged me into court. I lost everything, buried under debt. In the end, I died from the scorching heat while hauling bricks at a construction site. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day his sister came in for her check-up.

The silver blade sliced across my throat, and I collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. I called Ethan ninety-nine times. My brother ignored every single call, but on the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. “What now?” Irritation dripped from every word. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? I’m in the middle of planning Lyra’s coming-of-age ceremony, and if you don’t show up, I’ll make you regret it.” “Ethan, please—help me—” My voice came out broken and ragged. He hung up. I tried reaching through our blood bond, desperate for him to feel something—anything at all—but he’d severed that connection two years ago. My phone battery was dying, and I watched the last bar flicker before the screen went black. I stopped struggling. The silver blade pierced my heart, and my wolf let out one final whimper before she died with me. Days later, the patrol found a body. The face was destroyed beyond recognition, torn apart and mangled. But Ethan still recognized the scar on the wrist—the one he’d sworn he would never forget.By then, it was too late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

A rogue and a runt. A born and raised alpha. A boy with a secret. And a man bent on changing fate, no matter who gets harmed. ~ "Have you contacted the council about the rogues?" "Yes and they say that rogues don't band together in mass amounts." "Did you tell them about the lack of scents?" I roll my eyes at his question. "Of course I did." "And?" "And they think there's a witch out there causing havoc for the rogues," I scoff. "They said that only a witch could hide a wolf's scent but I can't seem to think of what witch would be out there doing silly experiments that won't benefit them. They'd be better off working with a pack if they had any interest there at all." "I get where they're coming from but this is mass reports across the country," he says pointing to the map. "I've been on the phone with packs all over the country having the same issues. We seem to have a higher concentration as of late," he furrows his brows. "Other packs have been having decreases of these rogues?" He nods. "This past week alone we've had six sightings and it's only Thursday." I feel tension rise behind my eyes as the realization hit me. "It's Celeste, isn't it. . ." (rewrite of Innocent Little Runt