Urokodaki Face

My sister wanted to make a quick buck selling herself on a cruise ship. I tried desperately to stop her, but my entire family held me down and drowned me in the ocean instead. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment before she left. This time, I smiled while helping her with her makeup. "Let me send you off properly, sis." Later, her screams echoed through the nightmare aboard that ship. I stood safe in the arms of a mafia Don who held me close. "Figlia, your Papa finally found you." Meanwhile, my adoptive parents and sister were on their knees across the deck, begging me to spare their worthless lives.

At our marking ceremony, my mate, Anthony Landon, drove a silver dagger straight into my chest. Through the pain, I saw him mark the most unremarkable Omega shewolf in the pack, who was also my sworn enemy, Lara Elliot. I collapsed onto the freezing stone platform. I watched them hold each other while my wolf spirit experienced unbearable pain from being betrayed. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard Anthony whisper to Lara that he had planned this marking ceremony for an entire year. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn three days before the marking ceremony. The wound in my chest was gone, but I could still feel the pain deep in my bones. This time, I would no longer be the fool waiting to become his Luna. 'Anthony, I'll take back everything you owe me with interest. 'As for this marking ceremony, I've decided to change the male lead.'

I had been with the company for eleven years. One day, the boss’ son was abruptly planted as my immediate superior. In order to establish his power, he started to humiliate me. He splashed coffee on my face in front of our client. “Why are you serving our most prestigious client this nasty drink? You’re embarrassing the company!” I was furious. However, I held my anger back for the sake of the company. During our townhall meeting, he threw my proposal to the floor. “We’re not an old folks’ home. We don’t take care of useless pieces of shit like you.” I did not leave the next day. Instead, I asked my personal assistant to publish a notice on the digital display at our office building. [Due to the tenant’s unstable emotions, the lease on the 17th floor of this office building will not be renewed when it expires next month.]

The day I got out of prison, my girlfriend—who I hadn't seen in five years—pulled up in a Maserati to pick me up. In the passenger seat sat a guy in his early twenties, athletic build. His face looked a little too much like mine did when I was younger. Selene told me not to make a scene. Not to want things that were never mine. She said with her status now, she could have as many pretty boys as she wanted. Right now, she only had one. Apparently, he was my replacement. So I shouldn't be so narrow-minded. After all, a guy like me—fresh out of prison with a record—wasn't even in her league anymore. I stared at Selene, a little dazed. She wasn't wrong. But she seemed to have forgotten why I went to prison in the first place.

"Eve Spencer, I just got into an accident. I hit someone, and I think he's your son!" The day after getting her driver's license, my best friend, Esther Lawson, insisted on driving alone to pick up her son from kindergarten. I warned her that the road was full of heavy trucks and told her to practice a few more days. She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I'm a great driver!" She floored the gas pedal and sped off. Not long after, she called me. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. She said she hit a child at the kindergarten. The boy's face was covered in blood, and he looked like my son. I froze. My son had a fever today. He didn't even go to kindergarten. So who had she hit?

As I'm unable to get a ticket for my return trip after the Thanksgiving holiday, I specifically booked a first-class seat home. Just as I find my seat, I see an unruly child jumping around on it. I patiently smile and say, "Kid, this is my seat. Where is your seat?" He makes a face at me. "It's mine now, old hag!" I grab him by the collar of his shirt, wanting to lift him out of the seat. At that moment, a woman's piercing voice sounds behind me. "What are you doing? Let go of my son!" I release my grip and say as gently as possible, "Please control your child. This is my seat." Suddenly, she raises her voice. "He's just a child! Can't you, as an adult, give way to him? You're young and dressed decently. How can you have no compassion at all?" I'm so angered by this distorted reasoning that I laugh. "If you're so compassionate, why didn't you spend the money to buy your child a first-class seat?"

Love…. You could lose yourself in it or find yourself. It all depends on you. Jealousy…. It drives one to the edge of madness. It paralyzes the mind, and drains the heart, damaging the soul. It teaches you what it takes to care. That's what their relationship was made up of. His eyes made her shiver with pleasure, it took her to euphoria. That's what she felt whenever she was with him, but not every day was sunshine and rainbows. He made her cry, he made her feel pain. He taught her the real definition of love; pleasure and pain. She liked how cold and rough he could get and he liked how innocent she played. He liked teaching her new things and she liked learning from the best. They'd survive the intoxication of each other. They made it further than they thought they would on the grounds of love, jealousy and pain. "What are you looking at?” he asked looking in the direction she was looking, “So... That's your type, huh?" he whispered in her ear with his hand on her thigh, clearly pissed. Siana moved away slightly from his warm breathe blasting on her face and his hand squeezing her thigh firmly. "Everyone out now!" he shouted then a smile came bursting through it all. She was alone shaking with fear and anxiety. She knew how he'd get whenever he was displeased, she knew the kind of psycho he was. He pulled her up from the chair and pushed her up against the wall, her hands enfolded in his and her breath breaking. He looked down then back up at her with a tiring look on his face and sighed "You know you really drive me crazy." his lips hovering over hers.

Zhao Yuan Rui, had everything and still has everything but feels as though he has nothing ever since his car accident two years ago which left him paralyzed. He meets the flamboyant Liu Zhi Rou who changes his life in the most uncommon manner. Liu Zhi Rou, an angel stripped of her wings at a young age, between all humans drops by in his hospital room with her silly antics. Learning of each other's pasts and hardships, they work together for the betterment of the other. Follow the two as they venture into the life of a married couple and face all the obstacles ahead of them with an adopted bubble that adds to their adventure. Art by: Pen Guevarra

Dave and Evelyn were step-siblings who were bound by their parents’ marriage. “You wouldn’t dare abort my child! After everything I’ve done to ensure you get pregnant,” Dave snarled, his eyes burning with fury as he grabbed Evelyn by her hair, yanking her head back. His lips crashed against hers with brutal force. Tears streaked her face as she struggled against him. “We’re siblings, Dave! I can’t have your child. How do you think our parents will react to this? How can they live with this shame?” Evelyn’s voice cracked, trembling with desperation. “I don’t give a fuck about them or what anyone thinks,” he spat, his grip tightening. “You know the rule. Abort my child, and I’ll make sure your father’s blood stains the earth. Don’t test me, dear sister. You know I’ll do it.” Will she disobey Dave and risk the life of the man who raised her, or will she let the child of a forbidden bloodline grow within her?

To take care of my mother after she fell and injured herself, I turned down a promotion and took a week off work to stay by her side. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, she smiled and handed me a small envelope. “Suzy, you’ve worked hard these past few days. This is just a little something from me. Go treat yourself to something good.” I wiped my hands, a quiet warmth spreading through my chest. When I opened the envelope, I froze for a moment. Inside was $2. Still, I told myself it didn’t matter. The amount wasn’t important. What mattered was the thought behind it. But the very next day, while scrolling through social media, I came across a post from my younger brother, the one who hadn’t shown his face at the hospital even once. Nine photos filled the post, all of them showing off a sprawling luxury mansion. In the center was a photo of the purchase contract. The caption read: “Officially the owner of a $2 million riverfront house. Big thanks to Mom for the support!”