The Grind Never Stops

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

"You're breaking up with me kasi sa tingin mo mas magaan? Ganoon ba iyon?" ang mahinahon pero puno ng hinanakit na tanong-sagot sa kanya ni Uriel. Sinubukan niyang magbuka ng bibig para magpaliwanag pero walang anumang salita siyang naibulalas kaya nagpatuloy ang binata. "Kasi wala pa tayong isang taon kaya iniisip mong hindi pa kita ganoon kamahal?" noon na galit na napatayo si Uriel. "Very childish, and I should tell you, that was the most bullshit excuse that I have ever heard!" ang galit na sagot ni Uriel na tila ba hindi narinig ang sinabi niya. Malakas na sampal ang pinadapo ni Therese sa pisngi ng binata dahil doon. "Sa tingin mo madali ito? Ginagawa ko ito para sa'yo!" "Really?" ang binata na mapait pang tumawa. "para sa'kin o para sa sarili mo?" "How dare you!" si Therese na muling napaiyak. "Well same here! Bakit sa tingin mo ba may magbabago sa kundisyon mo kapag inalis mo ako sa buhay mo?" "Tumigil ka!" "No! Hayaan mo akong magsalita okay? You've done too much talking already so I guess it's my turn now!" Natigilan si Therese sa nakita niyang magkahalong galit at paghihirap sa mukha ni Uriel kaya hindi siya nakapagsalita at umiiyak na pinakinggan ang lahat ng sinabi ng binata. "Masakit oo, at ako mismo natatakot na ngayon palang. But I'm not like you. Kasi kahit natatakot ako at nahihirapan, sinusubukan ko paring ihanda ang sarili ko. Pinag-aaralan kong tanggapin ang lahat. Kasi gusto kong maging masaya ngayon, habang nandito ka pa, habang kilala mo pa ako," ani Uriel na tuluyan na nga ring napaiyak. "Simple lang naman ang gusto ko, bigyan mo ako ng role sa buhay mo, kahit maliit lang," ang pagpapatuloy nitong pakiusap saka nagpahid ng mga luha. "U-Uriel," aniyang isinubsob ang mukha sa palad saka napahagulhol.

~You were there when my heart fell for you, but you were never there when my heart yearned for you, still, you never got out of my heart~ I thought it was good to leave because it seemed like they were on their date. I turned around suddenly Newt called. 'Prisha, is that you? Wow! what a pleasant surprise..." I slowly turned towards him, forcing a smile, and replied, "Hey! Newt, nice to see you..." "What are you doing here? Where is your friend Kriste? It is a little awkward to see you without her. I have noticed you two going everywhere together be it washroom as well," he mocked chuckling. Even though I didn't found it even a little funny, I forced a smile and replied, "I am just wandering around the town alone. As I was bored staying home. And about Kristen, she might be busy somewhere." "Oh! anyway come and join us. I want to introduce you to my..." "Girlfriend," before his words were completed my mind had already said it loud. so, I hastily interrupted him, "I am so sorry. I need to rush back home. My mom called me twice. Bye..." Before he could react, I was already out of the restaurant at great speed. The sky was covered with heavy black clouds and soon one after another drops of rain drip down along with my tears. I walked few steps but was not able to go any further. I fell on my knees getting weak to stand and slowly eyes got blur. Soon, I collapsed on the ground and before my eyes were forced to shut, I saw someone walking towards me.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

What is obsession? Am I obsessed? At first, I was just his substitute, then I became his real bride, then the supposed real bride returned, and I was kidnapped, tortured, and forced to divorce. Then I committed suicide because I couldn’t handle it, but I didn’t fucking die. Then I became a stalker of my ex-husband, who barely remembers me because I was declared dead by the world, and my face got melted down when acid was poured on me. I had a surgery that changed my whole face and my entire identity. Then I started working for him again and he fell in love with the new me, yet still traumatized by the old me, so I had to reveal to him that I was the same person. He was happy and relieved, but the world wasn’t. We were chewed on, spat out, and stepped on. Then he was fired from his company by his grandmother, who adopted a new son to take over the company. Then I was kidnapped again, and bombs were planted on me. We were able to defuse the bomb and escape. Then we were shot in the head by God knows who. His surgery was successful, but mine wasn’t, so I forgot everything about him and was forbidden to remember because a damn bullet is stuck in my head that could kill me if it moves to a sensitive part of my brain. Then suddenly, he was on the TV, framed for murder. I couldn’t hold back, I found myself in prison fighting for him with a gun in my hand, and somehow ended up in a coma, because the damn bullet in my head shifted… to the wrong direction. Then, in between this chaos, the doctor announced I-was-pregnant.

The mind of protagonist Zea, a woman consumed by a burning desire for revenge against the President of the United States. The reason? Zea's father was executed on orders from the President after he was found guilty of attempting to assassinate him and killing the president's daughter, Mia. Fueled by anger and a deep sense of injustice, Zea spends 15 years meticulously planning her revenge, studying every detail of the President's security and devising a plan to kill him. But as Zea gets closer to her target, she begins to question whether her actions will actually bring her the closure she seeks or simply perpetuate a cycle of violence.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.

My childhood sweetheart has aplastic anemia and desperately needs a bone marrow transplant. His brother agrees to help, but there's a catch. "I can save him, but you need to marry me." My lover ultimately dies because of medical negligence. I'm heartbroken but still marry Martin Steinfeld per my promise. During the wedding, he gets on one knee before me. His gaze is loving as he says, "I'll treat you well for life, Audrey Lynch. I'll be a thousand times better than Henry; I won't let you shed another tear." I look at his face, which is so much like Henry Steinfeld's. I believe him. Three years after our marriage, I'm five months along when I stumble upon Martin with his mistress. He wraps an arm around her and sighs. "She still can't forget about that dead guy despite us being married for so long. She's not like you, who only has eyes for me. "If not for her insisting on marrying Henry and ruining my future, I wouldn't have had to take my own brother down so much earlier than planned." My blood runs cold, and I tremble all over. Hatred consumes me, and I only have one thought—I have to destroy Martin!