They Are Talking About

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.

Olivia married John against all odds—despite the whispers, the wealth gap, and a mother-in-law who made no secret of her hatred. For three years, Olivia gave her all to the marriage, but her inability to conceive became a weapon used to tear her down. When a woman from John’s past reappears with a son she claims is his, Olivia’s fragile world shatters. Betrayed and accused of crimes she didn’t commit, Olivia is cast out with nothing but her pride and pain. But the woman who once crawled through life rises stronger than ever. A new city, a new life, and an unexpected connection with a mysterious prince help her reclaim her worth—but fate isn’t finished with her yet. When Olivia’s job unexpectedly leads her back into John’s world, long-buried secrets begin to surface—secrets that could not only clear her name, but destroy everything the Luther family has built. Love, lies, and legacy collide as Olivia fights not just for justice, but for the truth about her past. And just when it seems the wounds are healing, a devastating revelation threatens to undo everything. The man she once loved is the son of the very people who destroyed her family. Will Olivia choose vengeance, or will love have the final say.

Thanks to Sofia Columbo, Luca Vitale and I keep breaking up and getting back together for three years. Exhausted and desperate to get out of this situation, I end up choosing to be with Don Marco Rossi, who has been pursuing me for many years. Since then, we've been together for five years. His love for me never wavers, and I truly believe that I've chosen the right man to be with. But at the bachelor's party that takes place one week before the wedding, Marco's Underboss, Enzo Ferrari, begins running his mouth without any filter whatsoever after he gets completely wasted. "Don Rossi, Anna actually fell in love with you for real! Does she even know that you're only marrying her just so Sofia can be with Luca?" Marco just smiles without denying the allegations. He merely says, "As long as Sofia can be with Luca, I'm fine with marrying whoever. Honestly speaking, I did get close to Anna with ulterior motives at first, but I still ended up falling in love with her for real. "By the way, do not let Anna find out about this, no matter what. You know how much she hates it when people lie to her. If she ever finds out, she'll leave me just like how she left Luca. That mustn't happen at all." After wiping my tears, I tell my father that I wish to marry the man he has picked out for me.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

"I need to see Mr. Winchester! Please! My father--my father is dying I need..." "The world knows you are his mistress but Mr. Winchester does not entertain mistresses when he's working. Have some dignity and leave." ┌ Olivia Cabello has been the mistress to Ryat Winchester for two years. For two years she fools herself that the billionaire who's stone cold demeanor is well known by the press will one day love her and treat her more than just a plaything. She gets the shock of her life when Ryat gets engaged to a billionaire heiress and she is declared the other woman. A loose woman, they call her. A woman with no morals, they say. When the two red parallel lines on the pregnancy stick slap her with the bitter truth; it's time for Olivia to choose herself first. Except Ryat Winchester isn't letting go anytime soon. Not in this lifetime at least.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

On the day we chose our college majors, the influencer who was the school's heartthrob held a livestream and announced that he had decided to lead the anti-rat-race movement and would choose to attend a vocational college. The whole class followed him. Seeing the rapidly increasing number of followers, he smiled smugly. "They can do these low-class jobs if they like. I'll change my choice back to Harvard University at the last minute." I tried to dissuade him, but this would cause network congestion. My girlfriend slapped me. "You nerd! Who are you to tell our idol, Zach Simpson, what to do?" In my previous life, I spent half an hour dissuading them, and only then did the students change their college choices. However, Zach failed to change his application due to network lag and was admitted to a vocational college instead. He could not bear the blow and jumped into the river to commit suicide. The students who had entered prestigious universities collectively vented their anger on me. At the class reunion, they poured 99 bottles of beer down my throat and locked me in the karaoke's freezer. "Who cares about the prestige of a prestigious university? You'll just be working for someone else after graduation anyway!" "Why did we follow Zach in the first place? Wasn't it to break this damn rule?" "Zach was leading us to realize our dreams! If you hadn't interfered, I would already have gone to a vocational college with him!" They spoke disdainfully of prestigious universities, yet not one of them chose to drop out. I froze to death in a dark, cold freezer, my eyes wide open. Years later, they became elites in their respective fields, while my parents could only weep looking at my portrait. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Zach was livestreaming in the classroom. This time, I promised I would not interfere. Instead, I wished them a happy vocational college experience.

“Let him go right now.” Wait a second, did he just call me him? And then it hit again! Over here, I am a HE, not a SHE. Idris, not Irish. Before you roll your eyes and use the F words, this is my story, not yours. They said when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade, but I made a whole juice. Being in this college with not just a different name, but a different sex, is chaos on its own, one I’m fully embarked on. “Desperate times require drastic decisions.” I took those words way too seriously. How I plan to survive this journey is totally up to me. Will I be caught? That’s up to you to find out.

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

"Doesn't it bother you?" I blurted out right there and then, having been asking myself that question since the night we slept together. I was curious, but I'd been obviously avoiding him. "What? That you're the heir to the Siren-" "That I'm trans," I said. I could care less about what he think of me being a Sirenio by blood. "T-That I'm a trans...man," "Does it bother you that I'm bisexual?" he asked me. I hadn't expected that response. Not when I'm having mixed feelings about all of this. "Does it?" he probed, closing what's left of the space between. His scent and warmth envelopes me as I'm caged between him and the sink. I shook my head. "Use your words, Miles," he said running his finger over my bottom lip. I shuddered at the sensation it brought to my body. "You were so good with those, that night," I sucked in a sharp breath. I looked away, and his touch disappeared immediately. "It was a mistake," I whispered, my heart racing. "What...happened was a-" "I don't do mistakes, Miles," Mr Stark said guiding my eyes back to his. "You should know that by now," I let out a shaky breath when his thumb found my bottom lip again. "Does it bother you that I want to fuck you right now?"