Shall We Work Overtime Manhwa Novels & Stories

Bianca is dying. Acute myeloid leukemia, stage three. The family doctor told me on the phone—bone marrow transplant, only option, perfect match. Identical twins share ninety-nine percent compatibility. I crushed the diagnosis report. My name was at the top: Gemma Blackwell. But the doctor trembled, whispering apologies. A clerical error. The sick twin was Bianca. The cure was me. I had to get home. Rain lashed the taxi windows. I rehearsed the scene: Father setting down his cigar, Mother gasping, me explaining the mix-up. The report has my name, but the blood work is Bianca's. I can fix this before it's too late. My phone lit up. Family group chat. Father's message was short: [Gemma is terminal. Bianca forbidden from donation. Family decision.] My blood turned to ice. They had seen the misdelivered file. They thought I was the one dying—and they had voted to let me rot. When I pushed open the door and saw Father, I felt it— the temperature drop, the world freezing around me. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn't stop them. "Father," I said, my voice barely steady. "I have a question for you." He looked up from his cigar, annoyed. "If it were Bianca dying," I whispered. "Would you have made me give her my marrow?" The room went silent. He set down the cigar. A long pause. "No," he said finally. "Of course. We have resources. We would find another donor. We would never ask you to take that risk." I smiled a little. Just a small, sad smile. "Good," I said softly. "That's exactly what you said. Don't regret this."

Kakeru is a 23-year-old who has been living with his older brother's family for a few years now. His daily life oscillates between work and a very warm home where he is so well-taken care of that he has been spoilt. Moreover, his three-year-old niece is rambunctious and expressive enough that he is kept forever entertained and feels needed. The household is always lively and welcoming, which Kakeru attributes to being the reason for his prolonged stay and for his older brother's best friend Hiromitsu's regular visits. "We were two stray souls who had been taken in by this loving young family." However, he feels that it is time to move into a place of his own because he is now an "adult". Nevertheless, life is as perfect as he would have wanted it to be- all up till certain incidents leave him questioning the very ideal home and relationships he had let himself believe in.

I gasped, My heart raced as I read the title: Divorce agreement. "Ethan… why?” My voice cracked, tears welled up in my eyes. "I knew things hadn't been going well between us but I think we can still work things out." "It's too late," he whispered, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. "Celine is back." He blurted out and my heart leaped to my throat as the name sent a chill into my heart. ********************************************* Sonia has put in her best to make her marriage work with her cold and distant, husband, Ethan Adamson whose heart still belongs to his ex-fiancee. She was happy when she found out that she was pregnant, thinking that she would finally succeed in gaining her husband's love when she break the news to him but little did she know that her husband had another plan for her. She planned to surprise her husband with the news on the night of their anniversary but her husband came back home and threw a divorce paper at her, stating that his ex is back. She was shattered and heartbroken. She is aware of the fact that he didn't love her but she wasn't expecting him to throw away their three years together because of his ex who cheated on him. Five years later, she resurfaced as a renowned business owner and came to London with her son for a short business trip but Ethan would go to heaven and hell to get her back into his arms. Would she accept him back?

"We are enemies." "That doesn't stop me from possessing you." He breathed and every word he whispered later on sent chills down my spine, "You are mine, Amara. From the pale blonde strands of your hair to your faded nail-polished toes. Every breath you take is mine. Not excluding the freckles dusting your cheeks to the pimples on your face. Your misery is mine, which I shall bring upon you myself. From your giggles to your random nonsensical chatter, I own them! Your darn strawberry moments are mine. Every drop of blood that flows through your veins belongs to me and so does your last breath when I snuff life out of you, watching as your pretty green eyes lose their shine and your heartbeat goes dull beneath my palm." His hand traveled to my neck, fingers lacing around it, and he squeezed a bit, "Who do you belong to?" He asked capturing my ear lobe between his lips and I shivered. "Myself and you can't have me!" I swung my head back and crashed it against his, sending him reeling backward. **************** You have got to let your loved ones know what's happening with you' Amara snow Dardanos learns this the hard way when her perfect world is crushed by a secret she kept away from her family. Orian Wolfe Akanther, one of the leaders of the underworld is given the task of taking the werewolf princess as vengeance for the injustice and treachery done to his kind. The plan was simple, to take her, watch her family and kind crumble beneath his finger tips and then kill her but that plan seems to foil when his nonexistent heart leans towards her and he is at the risk of breaking a blood oath.

The only thing that she wanted, was to be dearly loved by her family. But all she got was a package full of betrayal. All he wanted was to find the girl who saved him and provide her with anything that she would demand and lacked. When he came to know it was love, he not only provided her with his immense never-ending love but also a free baby that adored only her. In her teenage life, all she wanted was for one man to like her. However, when she grew up, she had an army of men, lining to make her theirs. Now, who she shall choose? How will he make her his?

The moment they released the year-end audit notice, I just stared in disbelief at the mention of my car, which I had paid for in full and in cash. It was boldly listed under the company’s fixed assets. “Our company practices a ‘family-friendly’ culture. What’s yours is the company’s. We’re a family. There’s no need to get picky about what’s yours or mine.” As if that was not enough, the company fired the driver and handed the chauffeuring duty to me. “Here’s the reception schedule for this month. Also, please pick up my dad at Babolle at 3 a.m. tonight.” My expression had darkened. Nonetheless, the human resources manager continued, “In a family, there’s no ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. My dad is your dad, right?” I was so furious that I almost exploded. ​ “I’m taking my car back, then!” She immediately took out a loan contract. “Simple. Pay by instalments. Work here for three years and you can ‘buy’ back your car.” So not only did I have to work as a driver for free, but I also had to pay to reclaim my car. Ever since the human resources manager parachuted in, she cut perks and cancelled vacations. She even started to dig into my wallet! “I quit!” She sneered. Then, she brandished a thick employee handbook. “Clause 1867 states that an employee who resigns of their own accord will need to pay double their salary. You’re under a six-month probation starting from now. Pass it, then you can leave.”

We were taken. We were imprisoned. We were starved. We were abused. We were slaughtered. We were hopeless. Then... we were saved. We are a group of women, surviving against all odds against those who oppress us. We don't back down no matter how bleak the odds, and we will triumph against those who wish to use us for their own gain. We are many, and we will not be prey ever again.

On Christmas Day, I put on a reindeer-themed lingerie set, ready to spend an unforgettable night with my CEO boyfriend. Noah Levine eagerly unbuttons my top, kissing my body with feverish intensity. Just then, his phone rings. He answers impatiently. "What is it?" A sweet voice comes through from the other end, speaking in Farylian. "Noah, what time are you coming tonight? I have a Christmas present for you." Hearing those words, my eyes fly wide open. That woman is my younger sister, Heidi Miller. Noah's expression turns serious, like he's handling a work call. He responds in Farylian. "What present?" The voice on the other end laughs softly. "The present is me, wrapped head to toe in red ribbon. Come over and help me unwrap it. I can't wait anymore." That night, Noah doesn't touch me. He helps me dress, kissing my cheek with reluctance. "Work call. Something urgent at the company I need to handle. We'll pick this up another time. "Remember to wear this outfit next time, though. It's very enticing." His lie sounds calm and natural. He clearly assumes I don't understand, but I know Farylian. I hear everything crystal clear. I pretend to nod calmly. After he leaves, I accept the company's overseas assignment. In three days, I'll vanish completely from his world.

My groom was attacked a few hours before our wedding, and I was forced to marry his elder brother instead. They said that it was for everyone's good, but what about me? We took vows like robots reciting a statement: no emotion, no expression, just some unwilling words coming out of our mouths. Just like this, I was thrown in an abyss of marriage with no hope for the future. Above all, I became the stepmother of a three-year-old child who became excited when told that he now has a mother. I couldn't even muster the courage not to let that child enter my world. What do I do now? My marriage was a big deal for me. Even if it was an arranged business marriage, I tried to make it work with my first groom, but what about now? My husband - cold, indifferent, still grieving his first wife, and unapproachable to me in every way. What I wished for and what I got. What should I do now? What does destiny hold for me??

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."