shinka no mi novel

Sa edad na 19, gumuho ang mundo ni Castheophy Ynares nang misteryosong mamatay ang kanyang mga magulang, iniwan siyang nag-iisa upang alagaan ang tatlo niyang nakababatang kapatid. At sa isang iglap, nawala rin ang yaman at seguridad na inaakala niyang habambuhay nilang sandigan. Pero hindi siya sumuko. Sa loob ng limang taon, nagpakahirap siya, tiniis ang lahat ng sakit at gutom, hanggang sa tuluyan siyang makapagtapos bilang Summa Cum Laude sa Ateneo de Iloilo. Ngunit sa pagpasok niya sa bagong mundo bilang isang abogado, isang trahedya ang agad na sumalubong sa kanya—napagbintangan siyang nagnakaw ng mahahalagang files. At doon niya nakilala si Jaiden Wench. Makapangyarihan. Misteryoso. Walang awa. Siya ang lalaking hindi lang may kakayahang manipulahin ang mundo, kundi pati ang puso ni Castheophy. "You think you can escape me, Castheophy?" bulong nito, ang tinig ay malamig at puno ng panunuya. "You stepped into my world—now, you’re mine." Dahil sa isang kontratang wala siyang lusot, napilitan siyang manatili sa piling ni Jaiden. Ngunit sa bawat araw na lumilipas, mas lalong lumalalim ang laban sa pagitan nila. Galit o tukso? Laro o katotohanan? Habang tinutuklas niya ang madilim na nakaraan ng lalaking ito, isang bagay ang hindi niya maitatanggi—unti-unti siyang nahuhulog sa demonyong hindi niya dapat mahalin. Ngunit sa larong ito, may kailangang matalo. May kailangang magsakripisyo. At may kailangang mawala. Sa huli, pag-ibig nga ba ang magpapalaya sa kanya—o ito rin ang tuluyang wawasak sa kanya?

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

Moans. I hear moans. "Ugh! Faster!" I covered my ears like an innocent child hoping that they would quite down. I ran back down the kitchen and drank a glass of water. I'm not paid enough for this. Thinking back and I was already regretting my life decisions— NOT! Now that I have discovered how much of a big womanizer this fiancée of mine is, I think I now have a reason to dump him. Disguised as his maid is so hard just to get intel unto what his true colors actually are. Honestly wasn't the best idea, but it definitely is the most efficient one. I sat on the counter of the kitchen and rested my head on the table over my folded arms. Perhaps a nap might help innocent me up. Just when slumber finally came, I heard sloppy footsteps coming down the staircase. The "young master" finally finished his business. I went to meet them at the bottom of the stairs to greet his lady friend safety on her way home. "I can't wait for tomorrow night," she said in a seductive tone and batted her lashes on him. I held back my urge to barf. Her arms are all over him as if she was the drunk one when in fact it was my good for nothing fiancé. "You're too loud," Timothee replied as it was his way of rejecting girls. And yes, another girl cried that night. She won't be expecting to sleep with him again. As the lady went out the door, I look at the young master. His hair wet, topless and jeans unbuttoned. "Don't drool over me, scullery maid." And with that he went back up. Jerk!

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

I was never a novel person. Honestly? I couldn’t care less about them. That is, until “Three Hearts, One Love”... the reverse harem novel that took over the world… shoved itself into my life. Everywhere I turned: malls, newsfeeds, radios, TVs… Even the old lady at the bus stop was raving about it. Out of pure annoyance… and a little curiosity… I bought a copy, planning to skim it just enough to say it was overrated. Big mistake. Huge. One minute I was rolling my eyes at the melodrama, the next I woke up inside the story — not as the beloved heroine, of course. No, fate made me Luna Graves: the pathetic and miserable, jealous best friend doomed to crash and burn spectacularly by the end of the novel. With no way out, I figured I'd play my part, die dramatically, and call it a day. But then something weird happened. Scenes shifted. Strangers walked onto the page. And the swoon-worthy male leads? They stopped chasing the heroine... and started chasing me. Me. The villain. This wasn’t in the script... and I was definitely not ready.

He stared at his emotionless flower before guiding two fingers under her chin forcing her to look up in his dark blue eyes. "I am asking you again fiore. Say what I want to hear?" He mumbled carssing her ice cold lips even her body was shivering because of all the torture he gave her a while ago but the girl being herself didn't reply him. "Answer me! Will you say it now?" He warned her that he wouldn't stop until he hear her what he wants but looking in his eyes she emotionlessly replied. "No, Master. I don't love you." An emotionless ice flower of his was the only quest of his life. He wanted nothing more than to conquer her but can he? Or will he end up in a pit of her vicious love which will throw him on his knees for her? Spin off Yes, Master containing Rafael Hunt and Rose Story.

Campbell Group of Companies was on the verge of bankruptcy due to the gambling troubles of its owner. There's nothing that can save them except the marriage proposal of the company to ZEE's Fashion heiress, Maria Aurelia Ferreira. The marriage was against the will of hers but she can do nothing. She doesn't want to induce worries and disappointments to her terminally-ill father whom she dear the most. She doesn't want to add up sickening baggage to him that's why she agreed on the set-up even if it means risking her dreams. She thought marrying the man she didn't even know was for good for both of them but it turns out that being with him was an abyss of... undetermined chaos.

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

I'm attacked after the murderer who took my sister's life is released from prison. He pins me to the forest floor, allowing me to scream and shout until I run out of strength. As the fireworks explode above me, blood pools around me. Two months later, my husband becomes his next victim. I burst into manic laughter when I see the torment he has to suffer.