The Eight

On my 20th birthday, my father hosts a dinner for our allied families. He lifts his glass with a smile and turns to his old friend, saying, "It's time my principessa chooses a husband from your sons." Without hesitation, I choose the youngest—Salvatore Carlo. Everyone is stunned. After all, I'm Estella Vinci, the eldest daughter of the Vinci family. I was born into wealth and power, with a father from a long-established Virellian mafia family and a mother from Montavira's ruthless DeNucci bloodline. And yet, I was hopelessly in love with Giovanni Carlo, third son of the Carlo family. In my past life, I got exactly what I wished for. I became his wife. He got what he wanted too. With my father's power, he became the heir of the Carlo family. But after we got married, my adopted sister Eleanor Vinci became his mistress. When my father found out, he was furious. He sent her far away in marriage to Norland. From that day on, Giovanni hated me with everything he had. He drowned himself in nightclubs, night after night, always bringing home women who looked just like Eleanor. He let them mock me and humiliate me. On my birthday, one of them poisoned my cake. I died with hatred in my heart at eight months pregnant. Now that I am reborn, I decide to let them have each other. But the moment I choose Salvatore, Giovanni loses his mind.

It was our wedding anniversary when my husband's high school sweetheart posted a sonogram picture on her social media, with her captioning a public thank-you to my husband: [Thank you to the man who's been there for me for ten years, and for giving me a son.] The room spun, and anger surged through me as I quickly commented: [So, you're proud of being a homewrecker?] Almost immediately, my husband called, his voice full of rage. "How can you think such disgusting things? All I did was help her with IVF, fulfilling her dream of becoming a single mom. "And by the way, Ruby only needed one try to get pregnant, while you’ve been through three rounds with nothing. Your body is useless!" Just three days ago, he told me he was going abroad for business—ignoring my calls and messages the entire time. I thought he was just busy. However, it turned out he was with her, attending her prenatal checkup. Half an hour later, Ruby posted again, showing off a table full of delicious food. [I got tired of French food, so Ash made me all my favorite dishes. He’s the best!] I stared at the pregnancy test in my hand, the joy I had felt earlier now completely gone. After eight years of love and six years of swallowing my pride just to keep the marriage alive, I’m finally ready to let go.

My best friend, Sienna Monroe, who always swears she'll never marry, goes with me to the fertility clinic and suddenly snatches away the donor profile I choose. That's when I know she has come back to life too. In my previous life, I wanted a mixed-race baby, so I chose the IVF route. Sienna mocked me, saying I'd just be raising someone else's child. But two weeks later, I was taken to the royal palace of Valoria. It turned out the donor I picked was none other than the Prince of Valoria, a man of eight national lineages. He not only insisted on marrying me as his princess but also promised that our child would inherit the throne. The baby and I were cherished by the entire royal family, so much so that the jewels they draped over me nearly bent my back. Meanwhile, Sienna flaunted her extreme feminist stance and offended business partners. In the end, she was fired and blacklisted across the industry. Sienna spent all her savings on a plane ticket to attend my party, where I would introduce my baby to everyone. But when I went to welcome her, she crushed my son to death in her hands and splashed concentrated acid on me. "You don't deserve such good fortune! You worthless witch!" But when I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day I asked her to go with me to the fertility clinic.

Ang kuwentong ito ay hindi angKop sa mga batang mambabasa.*** Since childhood, Astin Kier Hernandez has loved Laura Miller. But it was a one-sided love. Laura never had feelings for him. Still, he didn’t give up; he guarded her closely all through college. Out of gratitude to his family, Laura agreed when he proposed in front of her parents. He knew she wouldn’t refuse because of gratitude to their family. He thought he was the happiest man that day. He was wrong. Laura admitted she already had a boyfriend, Gael. But Astin didn’t allow the wedding plans to be canceled. Learning this, he rushed to set the wedding date. On their wedding day, Laura didn’t show up, and that was his first heartbreak. One-sided love is torture. For months, he disappeared from everyone’s radar, leaving behind his comfortable life. To forget, he joined the military, spending four years in training. After that, his team was deployed abroad on their first mission, which lasted longer than expected. Eight years is a long time, so he returned to the Philippines. He and Laura crossed paths once again. But he was no longer the Astin who was hopelessly in love with her. How many women had he left heartbroken whenever he was reassigned to a different place? But how could he now avoid the woman who did nothing but apologise and try to win him over every day? And how long could she endure his cold treatment?

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

Eight months pregnant. Three hundred witnesses. Ninety seconds to destroy everything. Alisha Davis-Williams stands before her pack as Luna, carrying twin heirs and wearing her Alpha mate's mark. Then Joshua Black-Gold presents photographs of her with another man, and her world detonates. The rejection is brutal and public. Her mate's bond severed. Her Luna title stripped. Her unborn children's paternity questioned. Banished from the only home she's known, Alisha collapses on a roadside as premature labor tears through her body. She wakes in rival territory with a screaming mate bond, two fragile newborns, and fury where love used to live. When Beta Nathan proves the photographs were fabricated, the damage is already done. The affair never happened. The witnesses were coerced. Everything was orchestrated by someone with intimate access to pack secrets and Joshua's deepest trauma. But by then, Alisha is already suppressing their mate bond despite the agony, filing for formal rejection despite the impossibility, and rebuilding her shattered life under Alpha Val's protection. Val offers everything Joshua didn't and asks for nothing but her happiness in return. Meanwhile, Joshua confronts the childhood wounds his mother weaponized against him. His transformation is genuine, sustained, and too late. His twins screamed at his presence. And Alisha won't take his calls. The conspiracy targets her children, and Alisha faces an impossible choice: the mate fate gave her, or the future she's building from ashes.

Due to an accident, my wife and I lost our lives in a massive fire. When we open our eyes again, we find ourselves back on the day we registered our marriage. In our last life, everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Little did they know that my wife, Queenie Lloyd, refused to consummate our marriage. Right before my death, I found out that I was nothing but a replacement for her first love. Queenie had intended to remain chaste for him for the rest of her life. After being reborn, neither of us speaks of the past. By an unspoken agreement, we get a divorce that very day and go on to live separate lives. Eight years later, she attends an industry summit holding her childhood sweetheart's arm. She's now a rising star in the business world. I am dressed in plain clothes. When she notices me, she walks over with a champagne glass in hand. "Mr. Lawrence! Even if you still have feelings for me, you didn't have to disguise yourself as a waiter just to approach me. Are you still trying to convince me to get back together with you?" she sneers. I ignore her and smile as I wave at someone nearby. My son runs over to me and tugs on the corner of my shirt. "Mommy said she's tired, Daddy. She wants to know when you're coming to pick us up," he tells me. Upon hearing this, Queenie's face stiffens immediately, and she almost drops her wine glass.

What do you do when your first love, who crushed your heart into a million pieces, crashes your engagement party and proposes a marriage? Certainly you would would show her the door and slip a ring on the fiancé's finger like a sane person. But Damien Callahan? He did the exact opposite. —------------ Time stopped for Damien Callahan eight years ago when Anastasia, his first love, left him without explanation and moved to another continent and left him with nothing but their heartbreaking memories. Giving in to his family’s demands, he eventually agreed to marry his best friend. But on the day of his engagement, Anastasia returned and proposing marriage– A Contract Marriage to be exact. Damien is done playing the lovesick fool. If she wants a contract marriage, she will get it but he will make sure she regrets every second of it. The contract might be hers but terms and conditions would be his. …………. Anastasia Spencer fled her home years ago to escape the schemes of her stepmother and stepsister. Their betrayal cost her not just her first love, but also her mother, her only true family. Now, after years of planning, she’s back to reclaim everything that was taken from her—her wealth, her revenge, and the man she never stopped loving. Her Plan is simple: Step one: Steal Damien from her wicked stepsister. Step two: Reclaim her father’s fortune. Step three: Make them all pay for what they did. It seemed simple, right? Except she didn’t count on Damien flipping the script. In the end, it is a game where love, power, and revenge are at stake, who will win and who will be left with nothing?

Even though I knew cows were sacred to the Indorians, I still supported their biological daughter in her plan to serve beef at the dinner table of Indoria's wealthiest man. In my previous life, the wealthiest man in Indoria had held a nationwide contest to choose a wife. My sister had fought her way to the final round and planned to make a beef and veggie stew for the ultimate cooking challenge. I rushed to stop her, warning that in Indoria's religion, cows were considered holy, and eating beef could have serious legal consequences. However, my sister thought I was deliberately humiliating her for being "uncultured." In a fit of anger, she ran out, only to be struck and killed by a car. My adoptive parents tried to console me, telling me it was not my fault, that it was simply bad luck. Later, thanks to my exceptional cooking skills, I became the wife of Indoria's wealthiest man. Yet on the very day of my wedding, my adoptive parents sold me to the slums. That night, as eight men assaulted me one after another, I cried and demanded to know why. They kicked me viciously and spat: "If you hadn't made things difficult for Janet, she wouldn't have died. You owe her this!" By the end of that night, I had bled to death. Meanwhile, my adoptive parents used the money given by Indoria's wealthiest man to build a lavish tomb for their biological daughter. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister was about to serve her beef and veggie stew to Indoria's wealthiest man.

Eight months pregnant, a contraction tore through me like a blade. But my husband, the Mafia boss Darren, refused to take me to the hospital. His sister-in-law, Angelina, his late brother's widow, was also due. To ensure she gave birth before me, she produced so-called proof of my infidelity, insisting the child I carried was no true Falcone. Because the heir to the Falcone family had to be the firstborn grandson. Darren believed her. He locked me in an abandoned wine cellar. “Don't think for a second I don't know what you've been up to.” “Let me tell you, you're not giving birth to that bastard until I've verified its bloodline myself.” “Angelina’s boy is of pure blood. I have to make sure her boy is the family's firstborn grandson.” I tried desperately to explain. “My water is about to break! Please, take me to the hospital! He’s your son, I swear on my life!” “I’ll never fight for the position of heir! I just want my baby to be safe!” Darren simply kicked me and shot me a glance. “Who knows if you’ll change your mind later? Don’t worry. I’ll come for you after Angelina gives birth. When the baby is born, I’ll see for myself whose it is.” Later, as he gazed at the crying infant in Angelina's arms, he finally thought of me. But one of his men informed him, his voice trembling: “Boss, the Madam… and the child… they're both dead.”