The Wheel Of Time Mga Nobela at Kwento

At midnight, I accidentally stumble upon the boss' daughter, Julianne Carter, pleasuring herself in the dimly-lit adult store. Her eyes are blindfolded, and her legs are spread on a special chair, where they are propped up on the arms. At the moment, she's cruising through the waves of pleasure uncontrollably. But when the chair malfunctions, Julianne is unable to free herself from the restraints no matter how hard she tries. That's when she starts calling for help. "Please… Please help me…" But I crouch down instead, allowing my fingers to glide across her thighs, past her calves, and back to her inner thighs. "Don't move. This chair's mechanisms are very complex. I need to study them thoroughly and slowly." "P-Please… hurry up…" I watch as Julianne's expression shifts from embarrassment to yearning. She finally stops struggling against the restraints when she breaks down from all the overwhelming sensations. "Give it to me… Please give everything to me…" Just as I'm about to yield, I hear the sounds of the boss, George Carter, opening the door coming from the outside. So, I quickly wheel Julianne into a nearby storeroom. That's where I see hyper-realistic molds that look exactly like Julianne.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, my husband's childhood sweetheart, Maya Crane, volunteered to drive me to the hospital herself. Halfway there, she suddenly let out a cold laugh. "Lara Quinn. You don't deserve Mason Sterling. "You don't deserve to carry his baby." My heart dropped. I clutched my stomach and tried to jump out of the car. However, before I could move, she jerked the steering wheel–sending my side of the car straight toward an oncoming truck. The truck swerved at the last second. Her side slammed into the guardrail. Maya was dead at the scene. I was hemorrhaging, and the baby almost came too early. In her last breath, dying in the wreck, she sent Mason a message. [Mason… Lara did this to me on purpose…] The police investigated for half a month and ruled me innocent. Mason grieved, but he stayed by my side, caring for me with obsessive tenderness while I recovered. The day I was discharged, he took me to the seaside. Then he shoved me into the ocean. His voice was cold and merciless. "Don't think destroying the evidence means you're safe. You caused her death. Pay for it with your life." The sea filled my lungs. And when I opened my eyes again–I was back to the day of my prenatal checkup.

It's Kleo's 17th birth and her closest friends have all decided to treat her for the day. While at a lounge, her mom(a nurse) surprises her with a single phone call telling her to come home early which was a shock due to how busy the nurse schedule is but when mother calls you just have to listen. Never been behind the wheel before and getting praised for her driving skills it was unanimously decided as a joke that kleo should drive which as it turns out was a bad idea to begin with. A truck hits her car and puts her into a coma and is rushed to the hospital. On the other hand there's Avan and Avan's mom has cancer. She has a year to live but as fate would have it her room is just right beside Kleo's room. Avan always used to see kleo's room full of visitors but never the girl they were there to see, however, he notices that it's empty today, the day the doctors announce his mother's remaining life span... Dejected, sad and angry he storms out of the room and happens to be around when Kleo's room was left opened, sneaking a peak to notice the beautiful girl that is unconscious.

“Not so fast, Clarence,” Damon sneered. He yanked my wheelchair toward the balcony, pressing a button that lowered the guardrail into the floor. Now, I was teetering dangerously close to the edge. With one hand gripping the chair, keeping one wheel hanging over empty space, he shoved the divorce papers in my face. “You thought you could run to your mother’s lawyer?” he said, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Think again. You’re signing these papers, Clarence, and you’re leaving with nothing.” His smirk widened. “Or… you can join your parents on the other side.” --- Betrayed, crippled, and left penniless, Clarence is discarded for her sister by the man she sacrificed everything for—Damon Ferdinand. But when her ruthless ex-boyfriend, Dr. Julian Blackwood, reappears, he offers her a lifeline and a chance to reclaim what was stolen. With Julian’s power and influence, Clarence rises from the ashes, determined to exact revenge on her ex-husband and deceitful sister. But standing in her way is Kristina, Julian’s possessive fiancée. As old wounds resurface and lines blur between past regrets and new beginnings, Clarence is faced with the ultimate question: Can she truly find love in the arms of the man she once abandoned? Or is she merely playing with fire, risking the same heartbreak that once left her in ruins?

In the seventh year of my relationship with Ruby Carrington, she picks me up from work in the heavy downpour one evening. When I open the door to the front passenger seat, I notice a puddle of water on the seat. A strand of short hair is there as well. Ruby grips the steering wheel without even looking at me. "I just dropped off an intern from the project department at his home. He didn't bring an umbrella with him, so he was drenched." As I sit on the damp seat, I feel my heart slowly going cold as well. "Ruby, you knew very well that I'm severely germaphobic." Ruby just chortles in response. Her tone is filled with impatience and exhaustion. "It's just a seat, isn't it? He's younger and funnier than you, not to mention he's also more handsome than you even when he's drenched in the rain. "I tried having a relationship with him. Being with him is definitely a lot more interesting than with you. But I'll still marry you, though. As long as you pretend not to know anything about my affair, we can keep this relationship going." Rain continues streaking down the window outside, and yet, I find the air inside the car even more suffocating than the rain itself.

In the opulent halls of the Stanley manor, Judy Kent, the daughter of the family chauffeur, grew up alongside Chris Stanley. Their childhood bond blossomed quietly, a tender friendship that seemed unshakable. But Chris' traumatic kidnapping left him with deep psychological scars, manifesting in a peculiar fixation directed solely at Judy. Tragedy struck when Chris' father died in a car accident. With Judy’s father on leave that day and a substitute driver behind the wheel, Chris' grief turned into misplaced hatred toward Judy’s family. Their once-close bond shattered. Consumed by bitterness, Chris withdrew from her and inflicted emotional torment, even coercing her into signing a contract that bound her to him. Yet beneath the layers of anger, Chris' love for Judy never truly faded—it was merely buried under his rage. When the truth of the accident finally surfaced, the weight of Chris' actions drove Judy to walk away, unable to reconcile with the pain of her past. Only then did Chris realize the depth of his mistakes. Overwhelmed by guilt, he vowed to make amends, embarking on a desperate pursuit to win back her love and trust. But can Judy’s fractured heart mend? Will their shared history and enduring connection be enough to overcome the barriers between them? Or has too much been lost in the wake of betrayal for love to flourish again in the manor’s shadowed corridors?

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."

My husband, Julian Sutton, is busy with work on the day of my prenatal checkup. His childhood sweetheart, Vera Levine, with whom he's been amorous for years, offers to drive me. On the way there, she suddenly swerves and rams into the back of a truck. The car is flattened. Julian is a doctor in the emergency room, but I don't call him. Instead, I dial 911 and wait for assistance. Why? I called him in my past life, and he took me to the hospital. Our child was saved, but Vera died due to significant blood loss. Julian claimed not to blame me and even arranged for me to stay in a private hospital ward. But on the day I was discharged, he dragged me to Vera's grave and stabbed me. I lost the child and was on the verge of death as I stared into his bloodshot eyes. They were filled with unbridled hatred as he snarled, "Vera wouldn't have died if you hadn't grabbed the wheel! Don't think I'll believe you just because you're acting innocent! An eye for an eye—I want you to die for her, but only after experiencing the pain she felt in a hundredfold!" He twisted the blade and stabbed me repeatedly. My blood splattered on Vera's gravestone, dying it red. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been taken back to the scene of the accident.

Five years ago, I lost my memory in a car accident. Eira Jones had claimed she was my beloved. She saved me, cared for me, and we naturally got married. For five years, I managed every aspect of our home for her. As I tended to her every need with unwavering devotion, I was convinced I was the happiest husband in the world. But as I was about to tidy up the study, I overheard Eira and her childhood sweetheart talking. “Eira, these past five years, Vedran Clarus has been utterly devoted to you. He just hasn’t chewed your food for you! I’m getting jealous.” Eira kissed his cheek affectionately. “Silly boy, those chores are his responsibility. I’d never let you do them.” Furious, I burst through the door and accused Reed Harris of being a shameless homewrecker. But to my shock, he showed his marriage certificate to Eira. He declared that I was the third wheel in their relationship. As we shoved each other about, my head slammed into the bookshelf, and my memories returned. Apparently, I was the sole heir to the city’s wealthiest, the Grant family. I watched as Eira ranted accusations at me, and the fair-faced, pretty boy in her arms feigned hurt. I turned and dialed my childhood sweetheart’s number. “Elena Gibson, your fiance is being bullied!”

On the day my love fades away for good, I've finally learned something about my mate, Ethan Langley. He's not hopeless when it comes to directions—he just can't remember which path it is that leads to me. Ethan is the Alpha of the pack, whereas I'm his mate. We've been mates for ten years. But whenever I need him, he always gets lost. On the day of our marking ceremony, Ethan got lost in the pack territory. Because of that, the ceremony was delayed for another three days. Every year on the marking anniversary, Ethan would always get lost. The food in the evening banquet I always prepared would always go stone cold. When I was eight months pregnant with my pup, I sent an SOS message to him through the mind-link after I suffered from a bad fall. While Ethan screamed at me that he'd be there through the mind-link, he was physically lost in the pack territory for five hours. By the time our packmates came to my rescue, my pup was already dead. As I lay on the stone bed in the healing center, my packmates came over to comfort me. "Ethan can't navigate at all to save his life. He didn't do this on purpose. Don't get mad at him, okay? You two will still have pups in the future." I could only nod in a daze. But on the day we were supposed to attend our pup's funeral, I realized that Ethan was familiar with the road when he was behind the wheel in the SUV. He even took a detour just to drop by the residence of Lyria Jeffries, a female Beta. "Elena, there's still some time before the funeral starts. I'm going to send Lyria home first so that she can visit her family." Before I could object, the car had already stopped right outside Lyria's residence. Lyria got into the front passenger seat as though it was the most natural thing to do in the world. She wore a bright smile as she said, "Look at how well I've groomed you, Ethan! If you ever forget the way to my place, I'll make sure to skin you alive!" Only then did Lyria notice me, who sat in the backseat. She pretended to be bashful as she stuck out her tongue. "I was just kidding, Elena." I endured Lyria's "harmless" quips with a stony expression. But right after Ethan dropped Lyria off, he forgot the way to the funeral immediately. Because of that, the funeral was delayed by half an hour. As I held my pup's tiny urn, I felt my heart sinking into the pits of my stomach. It turns out that there exists someone who can be exempted from Ethan's hopeless sense of direction. It's just that… my pup and I are never the exception.