Tattooed Face

Who knew that bumping on to a stranger's car would give someone a one way ticket to a world they so despise and desperately avoid? Sienna Melendez doesn't want to be married, nor fall in love. She had that tattooed across her brain. She doesn't need these things, she can live and be happy just by herself. Plus, she doesn't want the pain that comes with love. It hurts, anesthetics could never help, and time doesn't seem to heal it at all. But when she bumped into a guy's car, she thought that after a few negotiations and her paying for the damages, they would just forget and move on. No, her parents thought she was being too friendly with him and thought it was best for the both of their companies if they were married. Things did not end well, and now, she's facing a life being trapped in a marriage with the heir of the Valencia empire, the "demon" as she had nicknamed him, Neo Valencia. ** "Damn it!" marahas niyang itinapon ang tuwalyang hawak sa sofa. "You know what? I hate you! I hate your dumb voice, your stupid muscles and your annoyingly attractive face!" "And you know what they say," his lips twitched into a smirk. "- that love and hate are two sides of a very... very thin line," tinalikuran siya nito at pumasok na sa banyo. And she just stood there, trying to process what he just said when she realized something. "Hoy! Ako na dapat 'yong mauuna sa banyo eh!"

"Eve Spencer, I just got into an accident. I hit someone, and I think he's your son!" The day after getting her driver's license, my best friend, Esther Lawson, insisted on driving alone to pick up her son from kindergarten. I warned her that the road was full of heavy trucks and told her to practice a few more days. She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I'm a great driver!" She floored the gas pedal and sped off. Not long after, she called me. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. She said she hit a child at the kindergarten. The boy's face was covered in blood, and he looked like my son. I froze. My son had a fever today. He didn't even go to kindergarten. So who had she hit?

Esther Davenier has spent her life proving she belongs—first to the elite family who raised her, then to a society that values bloodlines over loyalty. But when a long-lost “real” daughter is found, Esther is discarded like yesterday’s scandal—her name erased, her face mocked, her engagement stolen. They thought they could bury her. But Esther doesn’t go quietly. Armed with multiple powerful hidden identities and a dangerous new ally—CEO Evander Westvale, the man they said she could never have—Esther steps back into the limelight not to reclaim what was stolen, but to take what was never offered. Now she’s more than ready to turn the game upside down.

Roseline's stomach turned and her fist clenched tightly around the handle of the big travel box beside her. She heard the clanging sound of the metallic head of Thompson's belt meeting the ground. Next, quite footsteps. Then, Thompson appeared in her view, like a ghost she didn't believe existed. He was completely bare, with his hairy chest rising and falling slowly, his cock shooting out in front like a gun ready to be fired, his balls bloated from desire, swinging from side to side as he walked closer to bed. Roseline's feet stuck to the ground and her eyes refused to blink as they looked on. "That's it, my boy. Hmm! I like what I see", the red hair gasped, rolling her eyes longingly at Thompson. As Thompson climbed unto the bed, his eyes totally locked in hers, she drew her breasts closer him, then, proceeded to rock the big pumpkins against the flushed skin of his face. "You like them?", she asked, moaning lightly. Thompson paused. Then, in a defiant move of uncontrollable desire, dug his chin into her breasts, burying his entire face in them. "Ouch", she gasped, then broke into a weak laugh, pushing his head more into her chest. "The damn bra", she spoke again, twisting uncomfortably as she threw her hands behind her to unhook the material. But Thompson caught her hands. Without words, his head still hidden in her cleavage, he slowly returned her hands to his head. Obliging to his silent command, she cackled loudly, pressing her chest even more into his face and then, with her tongue, glided across his neck and ears hungrily. Roseline froze. She wanted to scream but in that moment, she forgot how to.

He lost his memory. She lost her heart. Now, the past wants them both dead. When Amara Kane pulls a wounded stranger from a burning car, she doesn’t expect him to be Liam Steele—billionaire tech heir, missing CEO, and the man with a target on his back. With no memory of who he is or who wants him dead, Liam finds himself hiding in the one place no one would expect: her tiny apartment. What starts as survival quickly turns into something deeper. Secrets unravel. Passion ignites. And just when Liam proposes and Amara dares to believe in love again… he vanishes without a word—leaving her pregnant and alone. But Liam didn’t just leave. He was taken. Now, Amara must face the truth: she’s not just protecting their unborn child—she’s holding the key to a conspiracy worth killing for.

Jenny Shaw, my roommate and belle of the campus, had been stealing my skincare products for four whole years. She even used them to fake a wealthy and beautiful persona, becoming a million-follower influencer and bagging a wealthy heir. Right before our graduation defense, her face suddenly erupted in severe lesions, completely disfigured. Jenny immediately accused me, claiming that I was jealous and vicious enough to lace the skincare products with poison! In an instant, I was branded online as the Poison Queen and a dangerous figure. Facing the police, I simply smiled at them and showed them my thesis. [Molecular Deconstruction Analysis of Herbal Medicinal Materials: Skin Regeneration and Reconstruction.] "Poisoning you? That's like a pot calling the kettle black. But thanks for providing me with experimental data!"

Arielle was killed by her husband and cousin after their wedding because she discovered that the two of them cheated on her and wanted to snatch all of her wealth. But she didn't die, instead, she surprisingly found herself the day Tyron proposed to her, six months before their wedding. She thought that God pitied her for dying unjustly and gave her a second chance to change her fate. This time, she promised that what happened to her would not be repeated so she planned to expose the evil deeds of her ex-husband and cousin. At the same time, she entangled with Gun, the mysterious man whom she meets and hires to be his bodyguard and the stranger she had a one-night-stand. They both fall in love with each other despite the huge differences in their personalities and status in society. But what if she discovered that Gun was the CEO of the rival company of her father and he had a selfish reason for approaching her? And will she succeed in revealing the true face of her ex-husband and cousin or end up being killed by them once again?

Josh Anderson is the untouchable "King" of his high school. He is a perfectionist driven by the terrifying expectations of his abusive father. As Council President, Josh lives by a rigid script of straight A’s and flawless conduct until Tristan Boyle arrives. Tristan is a chaotic, talented "wild card" who shatters Josh’s world with a single grin and a tied test score. Between a secret admirer and a mysterious new rival, Josh’s "System" begins to glitch. To survive his home life and keep his throne, Josh must face a dangerous truth: his perfect life is a lie.

The day before our wedding, Luke Murray got wasted. On the ride home, he looked right at me and slurred, "Cassie, don't bring the kid to the ceremony. Arya can't know I'm the dad." I hit the brakes. Hard. He smacked into the seatback, halfway sobering up. When he finally realized it was me, he just... froze. Then he said real slow, "Guess you heard. Wedding's off—for now. Cassie doesn't want marriage, but the kid's mine, so I gotta step up. She's your bestie, right? You probably feel bad she's doing this alone. So once he's in school, I'll come back and marry you." I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "...That's fine. I don't mind." He didn't say a word when we got home—just grabbed his suitcase and left. I wiped the last tear off my face, sat on the bed, and just stared at nothing. Then my phone lit up. My childhood friend's voice cracked on the other end. "Arya, don't marry him. Please." I didn't say anything for a sec. "Okay."

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.