Synonym Said Mga Nobela at Kwento

On the day of the wedding, Tiffany Blake publicly slipped a wedding ring onto her secretary's finger. "I'm pregnant. The baby is Chad's. Once the child is old enough, I'll marry you." Guests whispered among themselves, convinced that I—the one who had chased after her for a year—would just swallow my pride and take it. But that very night, I accepted the marriage arranged by my family and vanished from her world without a trace. A year later, I attended a charity gala with my wife, Nicole Cooper. She had a last-minute conflict and sent someone from her regional office to pick me up. I never expected it to be Tiffany, whom I hadn't seen in a year. "You're back just in time. My maternity leave is almost up. From now on, you'll be the one taking care of the child."

Judith suddenly inherits a magnificent big house. Fearing loneliness, she looks for friends to spicy her life. She attracts them easily and then, she places a small ad on the Internet looking for a fifth roommate. What if things got complicated again? Judith does not like simplicity, and that is the least you could say!

A week before the marking ceremony, my fiance, Alpha Mason Wallace, suddenly switches the venue to Firefly Grove. His friends tease him. "You changed the venue just because Serena wants to see fireflies? And you didn't even tell Cora? What if she shows up at an empty site? "Besides, Cora's the one who picked Moonlight Bay. Do you really think she'll go along with this?" Mason says casually, "She burned her skin saving me. She won't fight me over a venue change. Besides, she planned every detail herself. She'll notice the update." I stand outside the doorway, listening in silence. Then, I slip away without a word. When the day finally comes, Mason calls from Firefly Grove, panic in his voice. "The ceremony's about to start. Where are you?" I stare at the shimmer on Moonlight Bay and answer calmly, "I'm already here. My ceremony is about to start too."

When my fiancee, Gwen Blanchard, insists on giving birth to a child belonging to her ex-boyfriend of many years, Keith Davila, everyone can't wait to see me object to her decision. But now, Gwen's child is officially one month old, and yet I've never kicked up a ruckus about the whole incident. Instead, I focus on preparing my wedding. Thinking that I've finally accepted my position as her caretaker, Gwen decides to show me sympathy, though she does so in a smug manner. "Since you've already learned your place, I shall attend the wedding and let you become my baby's father in name. I'm giving you a chance to take care of the baby and me." But Gwen seems to be overthinking it. I've only mentioned that I'm going to hold a wedding, but I've never said anything about wanting to marry her at all.

The women in these stories do not apologize for their desires. They are not timid, and they are never the underdog. Fearless, intoxicating, and fully in control, they know exactly what they want and are unafraid to take it. From the sex worker chasing freedom, to the betrayed housewife rediscovering herself, to the dominatrix who thrives on power, and the daughter drawn toward dangerous temptation, these stories explore obsession, taboo, betrayal, and seduction. These women are addictive. Alluring. Impossible to resist. But be careful. Once they’ve taken what they came for, they may leave nothing behind but the memory of them.

On the night of our eighth anniversary, I cooked everything Ethan loved. He didn't come home. I sat alone at the table until the food went cold. Then I did what I always did. I opened Selene's profile on the pack network. New post. One hour ago. A photo of Ethan, shirtless, building a fire in her den. Her hand on his shoulder. Her face turned toward the camera with a smile that showed too many teeth. The caption read: Grateful for old friends who drop everything when you need them. Even their marking anniversaries. I stared at it until my eyes burned. Then I liked it. Filed the bond-dissolution request. And started packing the trunk I'd kept ready for months. Ethan didn't believe it when he found out. "She's throwing a fit," I heard he told his packmates. "Give her three days." "I'll crook my finger and she'll come running back." "She always does." What he didn't understand was why I always came back. It was because I loved him. That was gone now.

Everyone knows that I've been pursuing Ciara Hudson for several years now. For her sake, I reject a marriage alliance with the Langstons and invest ten billion dollars into saving the Hudsons from the brink of collapse. But on the night before our wedding, while attempting to appease her adopted brother, Carl Hudson, Ciara allows him to take her to bed, right in our marital home. After their steamy, sordid night together, Carl emerges from the bedroom dressed in my bathrobe, showing off the bite marks on his chest. Ciara simply brushes it off with a smile, saying that Carl was merely throwing a tantrum and that I shouldn't take it to heart. She even uses the marriage to threaten me, demanding that I give Carl a house and some of my company's shares to ensure he never wants for anything in life. She even says she'll make sure my family's lineage ends with me, all for Carl's sake. The disgruntled Carl runs off with my car and even crashes into me on purpose. Even as I slump on the ground, covered in injuries, Ciara runs straight to Carl, who has nothing more than a few scratches, without sparing me so much as a glance. As I lie on the hospital bed, my head finally clears. It occurs to me that my sacrifices have moved no one but myself, and how pointless it'll be to persist in them. I call up Serena Langston, my business rival, and tell her I'll go through with the proposed marriage alliance between our families. Since Ciara has betrayed me, I don't want her anymore.

My husband and his employees went on a camping trip, and his assistant posted on social media. [We drew lots for the tents, and guess who ended up with the handsome CEO!] The post showed a selfie she took. Behind her, my husband was taking his shirt off. Someone left a comment. [A man and a woman alone together? Sounds juicy.] The assistant quickly replied with a smirking emoji. [I like a little excitement!] After I liked the post, it was deleted right away. Soon, my husband called me on video. In front of his crying assistant and several employees, he scolded, “Why did you like the post?! It was just a game! Don’t be so close-minded!” As I watched him hold the assistant in arms and comforted her, I quietly hung up. After ten years of loving Caelan Sullivan, I decided then and there to let go.

The day I decided to marry the heir to one of the East Coast's wealthiest families, my ex-boyfriend Jack Harris showed up in my dream again. This time was different from all the others. He was on his knees in front of me, sobbing until his voice gave out. "Nora, I regret it." "Won't you come back to me?" The old me would have softened. But this time, I woke up and only wanted to laugh. For ten years I thought I dreamed of him because I couldn't let go, that I was pathetic for it. Then my best friend, a therapist, told me a colleague of hers had picked up a very strange client, a man who'd sold off everything he owned to learn a form of hypnosis that let him control people's dreams deeply. That man was Jack Harris. His wife was Vivian, the classmate who'd bullied me for years. The three of us had grown up together, childhood friends from the same small town. He'd tormented me for ten years, dumping me a different way in my dreams every single night, all to keep Vivian happy. And now he had me listening to his confessions in my dreams. It wasn't his conscience turning over. It was so I'd kill myself, so my heart could be transplanted into Vivian whole and undamaged. What he never imagined was that I'd found out everything ahead of time. This time, I was going to watch this rotten pair destroy themselves, one rotting away in his dreams, the other rotting in a hospital bed.

After days of torture at the hands of my family’s rival gang, they offered me one last phone call. I called my brother, Matteo. I just wanted to say goodbye—while I still had the chance. “What is it now?” he snapped. “Matteo, I—” He didn’t let me finish. “Fix your own mistakes. Until then, don’t call me again.” Death didn’t hurt as much as those words did. I felt my heart slow to a stop as my brother’s words echoed in my ears. I guess you’re finally at peace now, Matteo. I won’t bother you again. And you’ll never have to see me again.