Story Lines

"Sabihin na lang natin na pagod na ako sa paglalaro at nais kung tigilan na ito? Gusto kong mapalapit sa iyo dahil gusto kita. Nais kong malaman kung pareho ba tayo ng gusto o mali lang ang interpretasyon ko sa kilos mo?" "Hindi, tama ka," pag-amin niya. "Pero nitong hapon lamang ay sinabi mo na ako ay isang komplikasyon na hindi mo kailangan." "Over-analyzing is second nature to me. It’s helps me more often than I care to count. Ngunit hindi sa pagkakataong ito." "Parang hindi naman ganoon iyon," masuri niyang sinabi. "Marahil ay narealized mo lamang na walang magandang patutunguhan ang pakikipagrelasyon sa akin." "I don’t care about the future. Ang tanging mahalaga lamang ay kung ano ang narito at ang ngayon. " Humakbang siya patungo sa kanya, pagkatapos ay isa pa, hanggang sa halos malanghap na niya ang halimuyak ng kanyang balat. “Ano ang masasabi mo, Lara?" he asked hoarsely. "Handa ka bang makipagsapalaran sa akin?"

Kenneth's original intention is to take away Candy to save the marriage of Gabriel and Karen but during Candy's stay in his house, he eventually became attracted and fell in love to the beauty of Candy. Candy who has been hated Kenneth from the very first time that they met tried to hide her unwanted feeling for him. Fortunately, between hate and love relationship the two become one in union of marriage. However, Candy found out that Kenneth was just using her to finally inherit the company and he was planning to divorce her after two years when his ex-girlfriend, Camille Ramirez, came back from her career jouney. Another misfortune happened to Candy when one night after they returned from their honeymoon, she was rape right inside their matrimonial bedroom but the worst thing is, she didn't know who is the man in the dark. After all this misery and heartache could their true heart desire prevails?

"Let's just say I'm tired of playing games and want to quit this? I want to be close to you because I like you. I want to know if we both like each other or I just misinterpreted your actions?" "No, you're right," she admitted. "But just this afternoon you said I was a complication you didn't need." "Over-analyzing is second nature to me. It helps me more often than I care to count. But not this time." "It doesn't seem like that," she said deliberately. "Maybe you just realized that there is no good chance of success in a relationship with me." "I don't care about the future. The only thing that matters is what's here and what's now." He stepped towards her, then another, until he could almost inhale the scent of her skin. "What can you say, Lara?" He asked hoarsely. "Are you ready to take a risk with me?"

I realized my period was two weeks late after going on a trip to the swimming pool with my best friend, Gianna Lowe. Gianna insisted that I take a pregnancy test. I was stunned when I saw the two red lines on the pregnancy stick test. I had a boyfriend, Mitchell Gray, but I was a conservative person, so I still hadn't slept with Mitchell. I couldn't help but wonder whose baby this was. I planned to just terminate the mystery pregnancy, but Mitchell pretended to be worried about my health, offering to marry me and raise the child. It was finally my delivery date. I was lying weakly in the delivery room when Mitchell shoved a pillow over my face and smothered me, roaring, "You slut! Did you think I'd raise another man's child? I'll make you and this illegitimate child pay for everything!" I was too weak to resist since I had just given birth, so Mitchell successfully killed me. I suddenly open my eyes and realize that I have returned to the day I found out about my pregnancy. I am completely determined this time—I have to find out who the father really is!

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

This is the story of a girl who’s fantasies and traumas begin to blend with her reality till the lines become so blurred she’s not sure which one is actually the reality

After I studied and lived in Descensio for five years, I finally graduated and was ready to return to my home country to take over my dad's company. When I arrived at the Sullivan Group building, I took a picture and posted it on my Instagram story with the caption. 'Since you're the man I love most, I'm here to see you immediately after graduation.' Yet, a woman appeared out of nowhere and slapped me as soon as I arrived at the company's lobby. "It's her! She's the hussy! She had seduced my husband back in high school. Now that my husband has become the director, she shamelessly showed up here to flirt with him. So, I want you girls to beat her up. I'll take the blame if anything happens." While the woman was cooking up a story about me seducing Marcus Lane, a director of Sullivan Group, others around simply looked on coldly and judged me. She slashed my limited-edition bag to pieces and smashed the expensive seal I wanted to give my dad. "You're just a gold digger wearing and buying fake luxury goods. It's just a few hundred dollars. I can still afford to pay you." However, little did she know that everything I had was real. Even if she and her director husband worked for the rest of their lives, they would never be able to afford to pay for the damages.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."