Valentine Shot Mga Nobela at Kwento

“The agreement won’t be valid unless your husband signs it, ma’am.” The lawyer shot me a dismissive glance as I signed my name. “I know you’d like to use this as a way to flirt with your husband. After all, you can’t possibly be foolish enough to walk away from billions with nothing.” I gave him a faint smile, tucked the papers away, and sent a message to my husband’s most trusted secretary, Jolene. Even now, no one has realized that I had been reborn. My hand drifted to my still-flat stomach. The warmth and anticipation in my eyes were gone, replaced by cold resolve. I had to make sure my child and I “die” together, in front of everyone. In my previous life, everyone envied me for marrying Leo, the head of the Kosa mafia family. I thought I was the happiest woman in the city. Anything my gaze lingered on for more than three seconds, he would have someone deliver to me immediately. It was just because he thought it would make me happy. In this life, all I wanted was to end my marriage to Leo as quickly as possible!

Late that night, I was scrolling through social media when my finger slipped, and I liked a rant that said, "No women would like to date Aries men." A few minutes later, Rachel Lewis, my ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend, flooded my private messages. [Stop trying to get Marcus's attention with these pathetic little tricks.] [You already broke up.] [A decent ex stays dead.] [You're damaging Marcus's reputation.] [I'll give you one chance to delete it.] [Otherwise, you'll face the consequences.] I laughed. I had broken up with Marcus Gibson, my Aries ex-boyfriend, three years ago. [I dumped that piece of trash out three years ago. I don't care if you picked him up and started treating him like a treasure, but stop acting like someone's trying to steal him from you every day.] That pushed Rachel completely over the edge. She sent me an Excel spreadsheet right away. [Fine. Since you're so over him, pay back every cent Marcus spent on you while you were dating. Otherwise, that proves you still want him.] I looked at the bill. Eighty-seven cups of coffee, eighteen movie tickets, that sad bouquet of roses he bought me for Valentine's Day, and even the chamomile tea he bought me when I was having my period... [The total is 4,300 dollars. If you don't transfer the money within three days, I'll make sure the whole internet knows who you are.] I stared at it, stunned. Then, I ignored the madwoman. The next day, my social media exploded.

Everyone loved my older sister. When the novel I wrote shot to popularity, she got jealous and suddenly proclaimed that she wanted to be a popular author too. My older brother, who was the editor-in-chief, immediately announced that I plagiarized my sister's story at my book signing and she ended up becoming the genius author while I got cyberbullied so much that I was too scared to leave the house. After I got married to a young heir from high society and lived a happy life, my sister told me that she had a crush on him for years and wanted to be his bride at least once in her lifetime. He did not even think twice about divorcing me and holding the wedding of the century with my sister. My family was afraid that I would sabotage their relationship, so they made me leave the country. However, my sister did not think that I was miserable enough. She came for me outside the country and pushed me down the stairs. I was lying in a pool of blood when my mother rebuked me, "Did you say something that made your sister unhappy again?" That was how I died in despair. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother accused me of plagiarism.

I bet you’ve heard the story about the player that gets played. Yes, that’s me, Dylan Ashford. I am in an open relationship with my long-term girlfriend, and when I realize she is only using me for my name, I discover I am in too deep until I meet her, the girl with the brown eyes that make my world spin upside down, and believe I still have a chance of the love I always dreamed of. People see me as a Joker and a Playboy, but deep down, I am a romantic, and I need to find my own true love. Watching my big brother fall in love gave me hope. My name is Joanna Thompson, but my friends know me as Jo. I work in a security firm, and after a traumatic breakup with my ex, I am looking forward to finding my true love, but my head gets turned by the one person I absolutely despise for everything that he represents. Dylan Ashford is everything I always hated in humankind. He is cocky and a player. This book can be read as a Standalone, but for better comprehension, you should read The Big Shot first. This is book number two of The Ashford book series.

His eyes returned to me—slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat. I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn’t move. “Disobey me again,” he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, “and we won’t be counting next time.” Even shaking, I lifted my chin. “Then don’t mistake silence for obedience,” I said hoarsely. Carlino’s voice followed—calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. “Lock her floor tonight.” That was when it settled. There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat—he meant them. He wasn’t pretending to be the devil. He simply didn’t bother hiding it. --- She hates him. He refuses to let himself want her. Lina Gray never thought love would betray her. Until the man she trusted, traded her life to pay his debts. Delivered into the hands of Carlino Lacentra, the Mafia king whose name ends conversations. Lina is stripped of choice and crowned Donna to secure a throne she never asked for. In his world, power is law, loyalty is currency, and a woman beside the king is never just a woman.

“Congratulations on your wedding! Although we must have missed our invite in the mail. We’d like to catch up with…” There’s no reason to keep reading the mail beyond that point. It’s a variation of the same kinds of mails I’ve been receiving since the wedding three weeks ago. I pause at the door to his study, sounds of a woman riding on throes of orgasms, filters through the open crack. What would people say if they saw a woman with her legs spread out, in between her legs, my husband of a few days, sliding in and out of her? He keeps his dark eyes on me, bringing his signature scotch to his lips. I can’t take this anymore. How could he do this?? How did I end up with a man like this?? “Get out of my house!” I snap, The woman shrieks, scrambling to cover herself up with pieces of clothing. I grit my teeth hard. “She’s my guest.” “Take your guests elsewhere. This is not a whorehouse.” I snap, gritting my teeth so hard it feels like my jaw would crack. “Would you do what they do?” “W-what?” He leans forward, I keep my eyes above his waistline, specifically on the middle of his forehead. “Would you, instead of them, suck my cock?” His accent makes the word sound even dirtier than usual. Isaac's family demanded a husband, he delivered and now his life is a mess. A marriage on paper, a disaster in practice. Isaac Valentine needed a husband, not for love. And he met the last man he would ever choose, Ivan Romanov. The deal is clean. Everyone wins. Until it isn't. After all, what's more dangerous than a marriage of convenience? Real feelings with an expiration date.

Grant, the heir to the Bennett family, had been my protector for over a decade. He taught me how to fire my first shot and saved me from every attempt on my life. After someone slipped drugs into Grant's drink at the family gathering, he stumbled into my room, and his icy control shattered. His hands found my waist as he pulled me close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered my name. A single night of drugged passion left me pregnant with his child. When my twin sister, Claire, found out, she left a note and disappeared, heartbroken. After that, I was cast as the cold-hearted villain who drove her own sister away. Grant personally forced the contraceptive potion down my throat and exiled me to the lawless territories beyond our family's control. To make me atone, he abandoned me to fend for myself in that desolate land. I was eventually killed in the crossfire of a mob war. As I lay dying, my mind was flooded with memories of Grant. The troublemaker he always called me was finally gone. He must have been relieved. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to the morning after that disastrous night. This time, without hesitation, I drank the contraceptive potion myself.

The day before my engagement to Dean was announced, his childhood sweetheart falsely claimed I had broken her fingers when she was playing the piano. Dean flew into a rage and made me join the medical relief team in Loasia. Now that I was abandoned with just the clothes on my back, I had no choice but to fend for myself. Not long after, I was informed that he was getting married. Everyone bet that I would fly back to steal him away. After all, I had been head over heels in love with him. However, I never appeared even at the end of the wedding. I didn't even call him. I had vanished into thin air. … Five years later... A man, heavily injured from a car crash, arrived at the emergency department. His significant other demanded that he be operated on by the hospital director. I calmly held up my scalpel in the operating theatre, my face hidden behind a surgical mask. "Administer the anesthesia." Before he could be sedated, the man suddenly grabbed my wrist. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he demanded weakly, "Eve, is that you?" I pulled his hand away from mine and shot the anesthetist a look. "The patient is aggravated. Increase the dosage."

"Whose child is this?" His voice was cold and icy, blood shot eyes drilling holes in her watery ones. Scared, she cowered back only for her back to met the wall. A sob of pure horror left her parched throat, her hands lifting up to shield her already bruised face. "I asked," He stepped dangerously closer to her, his hot breath fanning the back of her hands. His sandalwood scent which used to calm her nerves in past, today did nothing other than heightening her fear. "Whose." His rough hands yanked her soft ones from her face, before clasping her jaw tightly, his fingers digging in her bruised skin making her wince. "Child" He whispered deadly, leaning down till his stern lips were brushing over her quivering ones. Tears after tears dripped down her cheeks. "Is in your stomach?" His already tight hold had tightened in bruising manner, making her flinch hard. Her head began to spin in fright, darkness invading her vision. Her heart pleading for some miracle. That wasn't the first question, her husband was supposed to ask her on her wedding night.

On a public holiday, I took Henry's mom, Johanna, to a new salon at Vanderbilt Court for a makeover. Halfway through, she suddenly cried out. I rushed over—burnt smell hit me hard. I yanked the machine off her head. Too late. Her hair was fried. Blisters spread across her scalp. I called the salon manager. She barely looked at us, lips curling. "What a hassle. If you can't afford luxury, don't pretend. I won't charge you. Now get out." I pointed at her. "You burned my mother-in-law. You're paying for her treatment and taking her to the hospital. Or I report this." Her brows shot up. Hands on her hips. "Oh, so now you're faking injuries for money? You even broke our premium equipment. You owe me a hundred grand today. And just so you know—this whole mall? My husband owns it. Pay up, or I'll make you." My heart stuttered. Vanderbilt Court... Johanna had just bought it and handed it to Henry. And he really had a side chick right under our noses.