The Heroine Is Back For Everything

My roommate is the kind of person who has to get to the bottom of everything and doesn't stop asking questions until she's satisfied. One night, while I'm sound asleep, she suddenly stands by my bed and calls my name, "Melissa, are you asleep?" Having been awakened by her, I shoot her an annoyed glare, but she just says, "See? You weren't really asleep. Otherwise, how could you have answered me?" One day, she decides to skip class. Thinking that I could help by signing her in on my phone, I do just that. However, near the end of the lecture, she suddenly bursts into the room and asks the professor, "I wasn't here today, so why does it show I was marked present? Is the system down?" The professor traces it back to me, fails me on the spot, and makes me retake the class. Later on, I join a speech contest. My roommate stands up in front of everyone and asks why my speech sounded exactly like her ideas. I get disqualified, lose my scholarship, and am labeled a plagiarist. Devastated, I climb onto the rooftop late at night. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the night when my roommate first asked if I was asleep.

It was supposed to be fun. A night of drinking and fun. But Adrian hits a man on the road who ends up dying, Bianca wants to call for help but instead she is shot, which sent her tumbling down to the road below to her death, or so they think, now five friends have to keep what happened that night a secret. What they didn’t know was that Bianca survived, saved by the leader of the mafia, and she ends up getting married to his son. But soon her life in the mafia and her motivation for revenge ends up making her life harder as secrets are revealed, while more betrayal comes her way.

akala ni Amy ay nakahanap na siya ng kakampi ng makilala niya ang panganay na anak ng umampon sa kanya pero ang hindi niya inaasahan ay mas masama pa pala ito sa kanyang mga kapatid. nang makatakas siya sa pamilyang umampon sa kanya ay pinapangako niyang babalik siya upang paghigantihan si Rabboni

“Say you love me,” he growls. “I love you,” I gasp, clutching at him. “Again. Louder.” “I love you, Cole. I love you, I love you.” My husband smirks like he’s claimed a victory. His hand grips my jaw, forcing my mouth open, kissing me so deep I can barely breathe. Then his fingers are exploring, working me open, ruthless and skilled, dragging me up fast. My body arches, desperate, already trembling. “Beg me.” His voice is harsh, guttural. “Tell me what I need to hear. Tell me you’ll never leave me. Tell me you’ll always be mine.” “I’ll never leave you,” I sob. “I’ll always love you. Always yours.” *** Then I found out that I’m nothing more than a baby incubator for him. He needs bone marrow for his son with another woman, Jade. She’s my mentor. She’s the woman who held my newborn baby and said, I’m proud of you, you’re going to be an incredible designer and mother. I swear, somehow, I will make them pay.

I couldn't tell him that I was pregnant. I was 18 confused and pregnant but still it was a secret from him. Five years later I’m confessing the truth to him but only because I have no other options, he is the only person that can keep us safe. I’m back but only because He is my last hope of getting through this predicament I find myself in. The plan is straight forward; Get what I need and get the hell away from him before I end up getting my heart broken by him again. I am going to ignore how my heart his smile make me feel butterflies. How his velvet voice turns me on. How his touch makes my Heartbeat faster. I can’t let Jace Harrington ruin me again, this time it’s not just my heart that is on the line but that of my little kids also.

I fell in love with my nanny's son in my past life. However, he used my brother's identity as the company's heir and took over my family's villa. Then, he spread rumors about me refusing to leave him alone. "Madison, I treat you and your mother like you're my family—that's why I've allowed you to live in my home. That doesn't mean you can write me lewd love letters, though." The rumors he spreads make my life hit rock bottom. My classmates isolate me, and my relatives despise me. Ultimately, I become severely depressed and take my life before even completing my studies. I'm later reborn on the day Calvin Latham starts spreading rumors about me. This time, I don't hesitate to expose his lies and reveal his true identity.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

Does love conquer all? Even gender? Even society? Even life? What will happen when a bad boy fell in love? Marc and Gary, two hot-tempered guys. Marc the bad boy met Gary the mysterious transfer student. What happens when Marc got attracted to Gary who is straight and has past. What will a bad boy do to attract Gary's attention? Can they really be together? Or will Marc's obsession turn things to ugly situations that he will regret...

After being reborn, the first thing I did was forge a medical report diagnosing chronic kidney disease. In my previous life, my nephew had been diagnosed with kidney failure, and he needed a transplant to survive. I rushed to get a matching test and donated one of my kidneys to him. But over time, my health deteriorated. At twenty, my body felt like it belonged to someone eighty. Even simple chores like sweeping the floor left me exhausted. I couldn't go out to work or earn a living, yet my brother and sister-in-law scolded me for "pretending to be sick." "It's just a kidney." my sister-in-law snapped. "Do you expect to leech off our family forever?" She even went so far as to buy a pair of fresh pig kidneys and smash them in my face. "Since we took one of yours, here's a new pair. Happy now?" Because I had lost a kidney, I died before the age of thirty, alone in a rented apartment. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back—before my nephew's diagnosis even came in.