Shall We Work Overtime Manhwa

Okay, take a deep breathe and down the memory lane we go. As far as I’m told, I just woke up from a terrible accident that occur months ago that I have no idea- as a matter of fact, I don’t have any recollection of my life before waking up. There are three things that I’m certain: first is that the ‘accident’ has something to do with flight. I know what I saw. It was a giant pair of wings. Secondly, a guy whose face I can’t seem to recall but for some reason is all I can think about. And lastly, I know these two things intersect with one another and the for the reason why and how? I’m not sure. And as I begin to collect the broken fragments of him in my memory, I also begin to collect my missing pieces. Whether its for the better or the worse is what I'm about to find out. Okay, let’s do this again, shall we? Take a deep breathe and down the memory lang we go.

Please... don't do this." Only he could hear me. but he ignored my plea . i know he can hear but he didn't listen. god please stop this I don't want to be with him please god but seems like god also couldn't hear me or he doesn't want to hear me . The priest's voice echoed through the quiet hall, solemn and commanding "Do you take Mr. Advika Rathod to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?" "Yes, I do." The priest then turned to me. . "Do you take Aviraj Ranawat to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish him for as long as you both shall live?" I opened my mouth to deny, to scream, but his cold, piercing stare froze me in place. My heart thudded violently in my chest, and my voice came out as a broken whisper: "Ye... yes... I... do..." The priest pronounced, "You are husband and wife. You may now kiss." --------------------- Author's Note This book is a work created entirely by me. Every character, scene, emotion, and storyline comes from my own imagination and effort. Please do not copy, reproduce, or claim any part of this work as your own. Respect the time, creativity, and dedication that went into building this story. Content & Age Warning (18+) This book is strictly intended for mature readers aged 18 and above. It contains intense themes, emotionally heavy situations, dark elements, and mature relationship dynamics that may not be suitable for younger audiences. Reader discretion is strongly advised. If you are sensitive to possessive behavior, morally grey characters, psychological tension, violence, or mature romantic situations, please proceed with caution. you acknowledge that you understand the nature of this content and are comfortable engaging with mature themes.

How would you define your worth? My name is Cassey Timmerhaus, a seventeen year- old noble daughter, whose goal is to find my worth and guarantee my own happiness. In worth comes opportunities, in opportunities comes wealth, in wealth comes love, in love comes happiness, and in happiness, I can die blissfully. But the path to self- realization was harder than I presumed. The unfathomable range of emotions, the twisted justice to prove yourself righteous, the betrayals, the sinful encounters and the fight for the honorable seat, are things I never expected but had to experience. "To honor your family is the noblest thing. How could you fail in such a task as easy as breathing?" I faced countless humiliation and disgrace; degraded by the people I call family. "I am sorry, but how could we dare tarnish a lady's hand by making her work for us, mere commoners? Surely she wasn't casted away to be like this. For a noble like her, it would be better to starve than sweat her palms." The rejections from those who once respected me ruined my valued trust. She once said that in this endless pit of woes, thy love shall save me. But, I doubt that. Even if I have love, will I be able to make it last? Will I be able to make him stay? Will I ever be worth of such fortune, when I am just a grass?

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

My boyfriend, Allen, is a fitness coach who is cheerful, handsome, and has eight-pack abs. After getting together with me, he transferred all his female students to other colleagues and would send me daily check-in photos. In anticipation of becoming his fiancee, I happily prepared for our engagement ceremony. However, two weeks before the ceremony, I discovered a bright red lipstick mark on Allen’s workout pants. I quickly pulled up the check-in photo he had sent me that day. Through the reflection on a dumbbell, I saw a woman standing next to Allen—her lips painted in the exact same lipstick color. Most of the previous photos had flaws, but I had trusted Allen too much to notice them. Looking at his message under the photo, I let out a cold laugh. "Baby, I have to work overtime today to train a male student." He actually dared to deceive me. Just then, my phone rang. It was the wedding planning company confirming the engagement ceremony setup. I quickly responded with a confirmation. The ceremony would proceed as planned—except I had a special surprise prepared for Allen, one he would never forget.

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”

"I, Iris Devenwood, accept your rejection. By the Moon’s decree, we shall never see each other again." Those were the last words I spoke before my world shattered. Betrayed by the one who was meant to love me, I lost everything my mate, my place, my life. But the Moon was not done with me. Reborn in another world, I carry not the chains of heartbreak, but the power of sovereignty. Here, packs bow to strength, enemies lurk in every shadow, and fate dares to play its cruel games once more. This time, I will not break. This time, I will rise. They once called me forsaken. Now, they will call me the Luna Sovereign.

Celine Yates is a 25-year-old heiress who was forced to work in a corporate world because her mother has been withholding her inheritance. It has been seven years since her father's death and she felt that her life and dreams have been put on-hold because she could not get the funding she needed on her life projects. To make matters worse, her step-father is accusing her of fraud for presenting a fake marriage certificate to get her inheritance. His reason: Daniel Grant aka husband does not exist in any record. Everyone knows Daniel the geek back in college. He is her friend. How could he not exist? That's her way out every time her mother would arrange a blind date for her. One day, her mother gave her a hard deadline: bring Daniel Grant or get married to Mr. Johnson, one of her step-father's buddy who is twice her age. Out of desperation, she asked her CEO boss Daniel Stevenson to accompany her to meet her mother and step-father in exchange of one month overtime without pay. Will the boss agree? Will she get her inheritance? What would she do if she finds out they have more connection than what she knows?

My online boyfriend is very rich. Every time I get treated badly by my unscrupulous boss, he transfers money to me. But after another late overtime shift, I finally snapped. I was on the phone, yelling, “I’ll never forgive Zack Barlow. That scumbag!” However, my online boyfriend suddenly becomes quiet. He then asks, "Is your boss also named Zack Barlow?" His words made me pause.

After working overtime at the company for an entire week, I finally finish the last project on my plate and rush home. Not wanting to wake my sleeping wife, Mia Lawson, I carefully push the door open as quietly as I can. But the house is nothing like the silence I expected. A man's unrestrained laughter cuts sharply through the air. "You're already pregnant and still this bold. Aren't you afraid your husband will catch you?" "Why would I be? He hasn't been home for almost a week. Besides, once I tell him I'm pregnant, he'll be over the moon. There's no way he'll notice anything." In an instant, my hands and feet turn ice-cold, and blood rushes to my head. I'm about to charge in and catch them in the act when my phone suddenly vibrates with a follow-up message from the hospital. "Mr. Brooks, thank you for choosing our hospital for your vasectomy. We wish you and your wife a lifetime of happiness." A lifetime of happiness? I stare at those words, let out a cold laugh, and regain my composure. Then I turn around and call my divorce lawyer.