Spoken Words Poetry

Demi melunasi utang keluarganya, Elisa Andara terpaksa menikah dengan seorang pria koma yang berasal dari keluarga konglomerat, Stevan Wijaya. Konyol, tapi tidak sebanding dengan kenyataan pria itu merupakan paman dari kekasih Elisa! Seakan tidak cukup menyedihkan, Elisa kemudian mendapati kenyataan bahwa selama ini sang kekasih telah berselingkuh dengan adik tirinya, dan pernikahan paksa Elisa dengan Stevan terjadi karena jebakan yang diciptakan keduanya! Benci, Elisa bersumpah untuk membalaskan dendam pada kekasih dan adik tirinya. Namun, sebelum berhasil menyempurnakan sebuah rencana, Stevan tiba-tiba bangun dari koma! Pria yang awalnya tidak menerima kehadirannya itu seiring waktu berubah menjadi sosok yang tidak bisa terpisah dari Elisa. "Kalau ingin bercerai, hanya aku yang bisa menceraikanmu! Sayangnya, saat ini aku menginginkanmu di sisiku!"

“You’ll serve me as a mistress. My personal sex slave.” He said, in his ever calm sultry and silky voice and if it were not for the words that he had spoken, I would have been carried away by that voice. “What? You can’t be serious! That is not happening at all.” Maybe I should have thought through my words before speaking because the moment the words were out of my mouth the Alpha’s dark eyes turned even darker. *** On the night of the feast of Alphas, Catherine spills some onto the jacket of one of the Alphas present and she thought her life would be ruined for good, especially when the Alpha King decided to step in to clear off the debt and also acquire her as a mistress, little did she know that this singular experience was about to change her life forever.

On the night Elara is meant to be announced as Luna, her Alpha mate chooses another woman instead. No rejection words are spoken, but the betrayal is loud enough to shatter her bond and dignity. Elara leaves the pack in silence, carrying a secret that will change everything. Three years later, Alpha Kael feels the mate bond burn back to life. The Luna he discarded has returned, stronger, untouchable, and no longer his to command. This time, regret will not be enough.

Up and Down. "We're different." Right and Left. "Go, run and hide." Love and Hate. "This is unfair." Kill and Spare. "I cannot do it anymore." Totally opposite, is there a chance to make it together?

“It’s payback time. Now that your sister needs to study abroad, you have to help the family. Marry Mr. Morrison.” The words were nonchalantly spoken while I was being thrown into a room. What doubles the pain is to hear these come from my own father, the person whom I never imagined slapping me with the truth that I am as valuable as an economic insurance. I am an investment daughter; my parents have groomed me to be their insurance in the future. I am their economic plan B if things go wrong… Should I obey or run? This is my life, and I have control over it!

As Don Julian Vitale's woman, I've accompanied him every step of the way, from the streets all the way to the peak. It all starts because I don't like the way Julian's god-sister, Milena Santoro, uses so much force in dressing my wounds that I've dismissed her in favor of other people. The next day, my explicit photos are plastered all over the underground casino's chips. I clutch my abdomen, which still sports the stab wound I've blocked for Julian. As I search for him, I end up overhearing his subordinates' lewd laughter outside a private room. "Winona sure is hot, Don Vitale! Now that her body's printed all over the chips, our luck has tremendously increased as well!" "That's not it! Previously, Don Vitale rewarded me by letting me grope Winona's chest! Because of that, I was able to seal a business deal that's worth tens of millions of dollars!" "Then again, Don Vitale, won't Winona get into a fight with you for spreading her explicit photos like this?" Julian puffs out some smoke while toying with a casino chip with my crotch printed on it. "She's just a plaything whom Lady Luck favors. Without my protection, she's even lower than a mutt. Besides, she's nothing compared to Milena, and yet she has the gall to complain about how much force Milena uses in dressing her wounds?" As the crotch-imprinted chip is flung onto the table carelessly, I feel my heart dying once and for all.

My husband, Steve Malone, thinks of himself as a highly-educated person. Not only that, but he's also very uninterested in physical intimacy. When we go to bed every night, we have to sleep with a bowl of water between us. In fact, Steve refuses to let me touch him at all. But on the day he returns from the volunteer teaching program in the countryside, I discover a pair of pantyhose all tangled up in his clothes. Upon hearing my question, Steve maintains his cool facade as he explains, "This is contraband that I've confiscated from a student." I never respond to Steve. Instead, I get in contact with the female teacher, Rebecca Cramer, who has gone teaching with Steve earlier. From the other end of the line, Rebecca's sarcastic voice drifts over. "Your husband sure is unstoppable, Audrey. He couldn't resist kneeling in the pig sty while licking the dead skin off that Paige widow's feet. No one could stop him at all. "I heard that Paige even intends to give birth to a child for him. They went at it once per day, you know. I think you should head over here and witness everything for yourself." As soon as I end the call, I contact my lawyer right away and prepare to file for a divorce. This time, I'm hell-bent on ending things with Steve.

I was raised to be invisible. In the kingdom of Avelaine, a maid’s life is meant to pass quietly—unnoticed and unchanged. I knew my place in the halls of Hawthorne Palace, until Prince Roman Davenport looked at me as though I was something more than a shadow. He belonged to the crown. I belonged to silence. What grew between us was never spoken aloud. It lived in careful glances, restrained words, and moments stolen where no one was meant to see. Loving him was dangerous—not because of scandal, but because it asked for something I was never meant to have. In a world ruled by duty and inheritance, some desires are not forbidden by law… but by reality itself.

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

Everyone said I was Domenico Calvetti's most obedient woman. On our first wedding anniversary, he flirted with a pair of twins at the gambling table. He had lipstick smeared all over his shirt. I smiled and wiped it away with a silk handkerchief, but he swatted my hand aside. "Don't kill the mood." In the third year, the star performer from the club he ran showed up at my door with a gun pressed to my temple, demanding to take my place. Without flinching, I disarmed her using the technique he taught me and disposed of the body myself. Behind me, he held his new lover and laughed softly. "Lucia, you always know what to do." In the fifth year, he blew up the library my father left behind just to make his new flame, Marilena Rossetti, smile. That library was my mother's favorite spot when she was alive, and it held the only photographs of our family of three. The explosion made me the laughingstock of the city. People whispered, "Signora Calvetti can't even protect her own memories." Everyone believed I could never leave the Calvetti family or Domenico, but they forgot how this all started. Back then, he rescued me from my adoptive father and fell in love with me at first sight. He knelt and begged to marry me, swearing he would protect me from blood and pain for the rest of my life. For ten years, I held onto those empty words. At our tenth anniversary party, his hundredth mistress arrived. Alice Russo, fresh out of college, held a glass of red wine and poured it down my gown while Domenico watched. "Signora Calvetti, this dress is so old. Given your position, you should be wearing something better." Everyone at the party waited to see my humiliation. Instead, I lowered my eyes and dialed Domenico's father's number. "Father, the ten-year agreement is over. I won't be Signora Calvetti anymore."