The Day I Picked Up Dazai

Empty vessels make the most noise, and men who fit that description to a tee hardly make for suitable partners. When Corinne had to go on a blind date with someone like that, she did the unthinkable simply to show her disinterest in him—she kissed a handsome older man whom she had never met before. "I hereby pledge myself to you," the older man vowed. If a single kiss from her was all it took for him to devote himself to her, would a second kiss entail much more? There was only one way for Corinne to find out…

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

The entertainment world is no stranger to Keitha Patric, a senior manager at Paris-based entertainment company Tristar. She has always represented the company to deal with scandals caused by famous actors she manages, but this time the incident was so out of Keitha's control that the production manager himself had to convene a staff meeting a few hours later. Keitha was then assigned to work with Laetus Allision, a new creative director of Tristar to solve the ongoing problem. But when it comes to solving problems, both Keitha and Laetus simultaneously realize that behind them there is another competitor who is deliberately trying to cause trouble for the company.

"Isinusumpa ko sa ibabaw ng bangkay mo, hindi ako titigil hangga't hindi ko naipaghihiganti ang pagkawala mo!" —————— Si Zeith Kate Del Fuego, ang ikalawang anak ng mag-asawa at kapatid ni Blake ang naging sentro ng paghihiganti ni Kurt Justin Steve Villaverde Del Pacio. Sa unang pagpasok pa lang niya sa Hotel Uno ay ginalingan na niya ang tila kontrabidang pagganap. He mastered every deceiving smiles, fake conversations and pretended kindness. He is the pioneer of mischief character inside the company! Months passed but he was still uncaught. He played his role well, much more than a playful gambler. He used his treacherous figure yet adorable character to captivate Zeith Kate 's heart. Hanggang saan siya dadalhin ng kaniyang paghahanap ng hustisya? Ano ang magiging matimbang sa kaniya sa huli?

On Valentine’s Day, I discovered that my brother’s fiancee, Erika Gibson, was cheating on him. So, I tried to tell my brother, Nathan Clinton, about it. However, he yelled at me. He said that I was trying to ruin his relationship and told me to leave. Erika then asked her lover to deal with me, so he kidnapped me. He mocked me for being unable to speak and forced me to sell 200 roses at the night market. I asked Nathan for help, but he replied impatiently. [Moon, I can’t believe you’d lie about something like this… I don’t have time for your games.] I was accidentally hit by a truck while Nathan was having a wonderful time with Erika. Haha. I was finally free, but I wished I had a different brother.

On my twentieth birthday, my parents placed a stack of photos in front of me—eligible bachelors from elite families all over the country—and told me to pick one for an arranged marriage. I told my dad to leave it to fate and draw lots. In my past life, I had chosen without hesitation the man I’d long admired: Lucas Whitmore, the most eligible bachelor of Astor Hill's elites. But after we got married, I found out the truth. His first love—the girl he had always held dear, Claire Monroe—was devastated by our marriage. One night, heartbroken, she went out drinking and was assaulted by a group of thugs. Claire attempted suicide three times after that. And Lucas blamed it all on me. He handed over my family’s fortune to Claire, draining every last cent from the Meyers. In the end, Lucas even helped her cut the brake lines on our car. My parents and I died in that crash. Now that I’d been given a second chance at life, the name I drew was Liam Morgan—the reclusive heir from Orchard Valley, known for shunning the world and dedicating himself to Buddhism. But when I showed up arm-in-arm with Liam at our engagement party, Lucas lost his mind.

On the day I was declared pregnant, I ran into my husband in the ob-gyn. He was with his long-lost love for a prenatal checkup. "I'm not going home tonight. As you can see, I have business to attend to," Lawrence said quietly as he left with an arm wrapped around Melissa. I fell silent and booked an abortion surgery. Everyone around us thought I was a simp for Lawrence. They thought I wouldn't leave, no matter how badly he mistreated me. He had the same thought. No one knew that I only married him to repay a debt. That debt was now repaid. Ten years was up, and I could finally end this abominable marriage.

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend. Milton Woodard vowed I could ask for anything. Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up." Then I walked away without a backward glance. Milton smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention. He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn. In my last life, I proposed to him and won. Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself. Milton unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement. When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver. I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table. Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.

My husband's first love, the woman he had once idolized, had left him for a powerful and influential school bully. Years later, she found herself in the midst of a bitter divorce and in need of a lawyer. And who else but my husband, now an accomplished attorney, ended up back in her orbit? As he moved toward her once more, I decided it was time to step aside. After all, there was no stopping someone determined to chase after a lost cause.