The Julian Chapter A Wonder Story

I always thought my boyfriend came from a poor family. One day, I saw him drink a bottle of wine worth 100,000 while tipping the waiter over 1,000. The watch he gave away without a second thought was worth millions. Yet, his gift for my birthday was a dirt-cheap trinket. He claimed it was a test to make sure I was not a gold digger. Later on, I proved that I was not a gold digger. That was when he begged and pleaded for me to accept his extravagant gift.

My sister, Fiona Miller, has recently opened a luxury spa for business. As such, I bring Dad along to check it out. Of course, we pick the most expensive treatment package available. But barely a few presses from the male therapist, and Dad feels a sharp pain in his chest and can't seem to breathe properly. All the color drains from his face, and cold sweat starts beading on his forehead. I call the manager over, but he seems annoyed. "Oh, he just has poor blood circulation. He'll be fine after the massage. That's just a normal reaction." I can't believe what I'm hearing. "My father has a heart condition. What are you lot even doing to him?" The manager, Seth Zeller, explodes as if I've insulted him and raises his voice. "That's his own pre-existing condition. How is that our problem? We run a legitimate business here. No refunds once treatment begins. Got it?" I gesture at the credentials displayed on the wall. "I don't see your name anywhere up there. You're not even certified. Is this the kind of operation Fiona's running?" Seth folds his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at us. "I'm the boss here. You and your dad look broke as hell. I can tell you're just trying to get a free massage and walk out without paying." "Let me spell it out for you. This package is 38,000 dollars. Adding in the cost of my emotional distress and lost time, the total is 100,000 dollars. Pay up now, or I'm having you both arrested." A massage that almost kills Dad costs 100,000 dollars? So that's why Fiona was suddenly so eager to open this spa. As it turns out, she and her boyfriend are running a fraud scheme. I reach for my phone to call her, but Seth is already making a video call. "Babe, you need to get here right now. A couple of deadbeats are trying to get a free massage and walk away without paying."

Getting helplessly rooted and stuck in a spot and without a means of escape coming, Ariana wondered why her life was hard, despite being born with a silver spoon. Every road she toured led to a series of crossroads. Little did she know this all pointed to the fact that she wasn't of the realist's world, No wonder it never sat well with her And sooner than later, she realized that she didn't belong in the world of her mother and 'father' but, belonged in the world which she thought only existed in the lengthy pile of books on her shelf. Like she never would have thought, her world began to revolve around a mystical parallel universe And from here, the story begins ...

Chastity Van Dyke has found her role in life. She’s going to become a nun. Despite the shock and disgust from her family, Chastity is forging ahead with her plan. Nothing is going to stop her – will it? Because of inconvenient circumstances, Julian Beaumont has to enlist the woman he hates the most to help him schmooze Italian businessmen. Of course, Chastity demands compensation – not for herself but for a small convent in Boston. After agreeing to make a sizable donation to the convent, Chastity helps him. Then it happened. His heart betrayed his better sense. Now, Julian has feelings for the Devil’s spawn. When he tries to express them, Chastity runs away. He knows she has a secret. And whatever that secret is it’s keeping them apart. Once he discovers it, it doesn’t deter him for long. Julian won’t rest until Chastity is his despite what his little harpy has planned for her life. “You’re not tired. You’re leaving because you’re uncomfortable with having a good time with me.” “What? I am not.” “You are to.” Julian let go of her arm. “I never figured you for a coward.” “I am not a coward.” “Then why do you keep running from me?” he asked seriously. “I’m not running from anything. I’m tired.” “Right. Chastity, I’ve decided not to stop.” She didn’t like the determined look in his eyes. “Not to stop what?” “Pursuing you. By the time I get finished with you, you’re not going to be a nun no more than I am.” Ire flared and before she knew it, she whacked Julian on the cheek as hard as she could. Chastity stormed off in a hurry.

Ketika Susan terluka parah akibat ledakan kompor gas, hanya putranya yang berusia lima tahun yang berada di sisinya. Rohnya berdiri di samping Julian, melihatnya menangis sambil menelepon dan memohon agar Ginos bisa pulang untuk menyelamatkan ibunya. Namun, Ginos hanya memarahi dan menyuruhnya untuk jangan belajar berbohong seperti ibunya, lalu menutup telepon. Julian menyeka air matanya dan akhirnya memanggil ambulans, tetapi ambulans malah direnggut oleh Ginos. "Ayah, Ibu berdarah banyak dan sekarat. Bisakah Ayah tidak merebut ambulans?" "Dasar penipu, jangan ribut! Minggir, Wenny akan melahirkan, dia lebih butuh ambulans daripada Susan!" Ginos mendorong Julian yang menangis sedih, lalu pergi membawa Wenny ke dalam ambulans tanpa menoleh. "Ayah... Ayah! Tolong Ibu!" Julian menangis dan mengejar ambulans, tanpa memperhatikan truk yang melaju kencang. Susan meneriakkan nama putranya sekuat tenaga dan mencoba mendorongnya. Namun, dia tak bisa berbuat apa-apa selain menyaksikan Julian terjepit di bawah roda truk. Lautan darah. Susan hampir gila! Beberapa tahun ini, Ginos berulang kali meninggalkan mereka demi Wenny dan putrinya. Susan bertengkar dengannya, tetapi Ginos bilang dia hanya membalas budi ayah Wenny karena telah menyelamatkannya. Dia mengira Ginos memang nggak bisa bedain mana yang pantas dan nggak. Siapa sangka, Ginos bahkan tidak peduli dengan nyawa mereka! Dialah yang membunuh Julian... Susan mengembuskan napas terakhirnya dengan rasa sakit yang menyayat hati. Kalau ada kehidupan selanjutnya, Susan tidak ingin berhubungan dengan Ginos!

When my wife brought her lover home for the fifth time, I decided enough was enough. I said nothing, not a word of complaint or protest. Instead, I superglued the windows shut and locked the bedroom door from the outside. From the bedroom came the muffled sounds of her little escapade, breathless and feverish, carrying through the walls like a shameful melody no one asked to hear. Calmly, I sat in the living room, picked up the phone, and called my mother-in-law. "Jessie," I said, putting on my best tone of urgency, "it's bad—real bad! Your daughter's locked herself in the bedroom and says she's gonna end it all!"

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]

My in-laws go on a jungle trip and are stung by venomous bees. An exorbitant sum is needed for their surgeries, so I hurriedly call my husband for help. However, as soon as the call connects, he berates me. "They can die if you don't have money to treat them! Why waste the money? Your family isn't mine—what does it have to do with me if they die? Also, Chloe has no money for food. I'm transferring what we have to buy her a meal." He hangs up abruptly and transfers whatever money I have. Meanwhile, his parents die because we didn't pay to save them.

As soon as my husband sat at the dining table, he couldn't stop himself from talking. The humiliations of my school days had become his favorite entertainment, served up to his drinking buddies like appetizers. "Back then, she got her clothes torn off in the bathroom, beaten so badly she crawled on the ground like a dog, too terrified to make a sound. If it weren’t for my kindness—" That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I wanted a divorce. He laughed it off, utterly unbothered. "Seriously? It’s just a joke! That was ages ago. You’re way too uptight—it’s just for a laugh, right?" For a laugh? Was I the only one with a past? Did he think he was untouchable? Maybe I should tell a few embarrassing stories about his precious childhood sweetheart. Fine. If it’s all about “fun,” I hoped his sweetheart found it equally hilarious when her turn came.

I am the orphaned hybrid of a vampire and a werewolf. After my parents died, I was sent to the Silvermoon Pack, taken in by a distant relative on my father's side. They had three sons—triplets—each carrying the noble Alpha bloodline. In public, they were the epitome of grace and charm. But behind closed doors, they were my living nightmare. They despised me. To them, my blood was a stain, my existence a mistake. But in their world, I was more than just an outcast—I was prey. They made a bet: who would be the first to have me? To them, it wasn't just about desire. It was about possession, control. A way to chain me to them, to turn me into their plaything. They drugged me and watched as I collapsed at their feet, powerless, theirs to toy with as they pleased. In the end, they ruined me. Smeared my name until the whole pack sneered at me. Then came the bonfire festival. They tricked me away from the crowd and threw me into a pit—a collapsed silver mine, its air thick with toxic silver dust. Torches rained down, their flames licking at the walls, while the silver seeped into my body. It poisoned me slowly. Bit by bit, my body unraveled. And finally, my consciousness dissolved into the dark. But when I opened my eyes again, everything had reset. I had returned to the beginning. One of the triplets, Reine, smirked as he leaned in, his voice laced with amusement. "Ayla, what a beautiful name. May I invite you to the bonfire festival?" The bonfire festival? Of course. This time, let's make it your last night.