Webtoon When The Phone Rings

Eleanor worked herself to the bone—three jobs a day, even selling her mother’s only heirloom—all to pay off her boyfriend Luca’s debts. Then, on their third anniversary, she caught him shopping for rings… with her best friend. Turns out, Luca isn’t the struggling artist he pretended to be. He’s the only heir to the city’s most elusive billionaire. Heartbroken and reckless, Eleanor ends up in the arms of an older, devastatingly attractive stranger—a man whose powerful presence and faint resemblance to Luca pull her in like a dangerous dream. Only after she says yes to Luca’s proposal does she discover the truth: The stranger from that night is his father.

Timothy Yeager is the sole successor of Caelumis, the most powerful force of Efral. He has billions of dollars in inheritance and countless subordinates! On this day, he returns to civilization with the marriage contracts his mentor has set for him so he can keep his promise and protect his fiancées. However, as soon as he gets home, most of his fiancées call off their engagements to him. "Do you think you're worthy of marrying someone from the Barton family when you're so useless?" "How can the daughter of the Lynde family marry a peasant like you? It's a humiliation to her!" "Today, we're gathered here to annul the marriage contracts with a loser like you!" "You're dreaming if you think a peasant like you is worthy of marrying any of us ladies!" Amidst the insults and mockery, an icy voice rings out. "Since all five of you are annulling your marriage contracts with him, I, Mavis Jefferson, shall accept it." Timothy looks in her direction and his heart clenches. It's her!

I was in a relationship with Quinn Lucas for five years and thought I had touched her with my sincerity. That night, I got a phone call from her when I was preparing to propose to her. "Kyle, come to the hotel." Then, she sent me the address. When I arrived, she told me to buy contraceptives from the supermarket next door. I thought we were close to our happily ever after, so I was excited. When I knocked on the door of her room again, I saw a man, who took the contraceptives in my hand and thanked me. I froze in place...

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

Karen had invested her last penny in the business she had recently established and was eagerly awaiting the promised funds from her benefactor to take it to the next level. "Maybe he forgot. I should remind him," she thought, and promptly sent a text message: ‘I hate to sound desperate, but my finances are tight.’ After sending the message, she realized she had used the wrong number. She quickly started typing, ‘Please ignore the...’ when an alert popped up on her phone: ‘Five billion dollars transferred to you by Roger Dawson.’ Roger? The first name sent a chill down her spine, but the last name left her puzzled. "Roger? Could it be Tonia's bodyguard?" That was his number, but when did his name change? Her phone rang immediately, and the name she had feared for months echoed in her ears, his voice filled with emotion yet calm like a winter breeze. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you." The call ended before she could process it. He was the reason she had fled, refusing to sign the divorce papers. Her love for him was unrequited, his heart belonging to her adopted sister, but what hurt more was the feeling of being traded between friends like a commodity. She would rather die than return.

Being a poor part-timer, Tynan could only afford a rip-off version of the i-phone called the G-phone. Never in his wildest dreams would he think of getting married to his phone - to be more precise, the thing living in his phone. She claims to be the E-Ghost residing in the G-phone who surpasses AI like Cortana simply because she possesses intellect of her own. Meet Laura, the ghost that lives in a cell phone. Part spirit and part technology, she makes the perfect life companion Tynan could ever ask for. Their problem? The G-phone is on a one year warranty. While they are busy overcoming their dimensional love barrier, G-phone calls. They want to take the phone back. Can Tynan and Laura 'live' happily ever after? ***

What will you do if one day, you suddenly wake up with ears above your head and tails behind your back? What if you suddenly came back to how you were, 20 years ago, just with different eyes and hair color? Coming home from a late-night party, Tiffany George passed out as soon as she felt the softness and warmth of her comfy bed. She stinks of alcohol, explaining her carefree behavior, resulting into a deep sleep with her corporate attire on. On the next day, a phone call had woken her up. She massaged her aching temples and reached for her phone on the bedside table. She answered it without even bothering to look at the caller ID, her voice hoarse as she said hello. “Ms. George, what time do you think is it?” a cold voice floated over the phone, waking Tiffany out of her daze. She immediately hung-up the call and rose from the bed. But the moment she tried to reach the floor with her feet… she realized something amiss. She touched her face and felt her chest… A long silence ensued before her loud scream filled the entire room.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

After three years of marriage, I believed I had the perfect family. My wife, Sarah, was gentle and caring, and our son was bright and adorable. On a rare day when I finished work early, I arrived home to find Sarah asleep, slumped tiredly by the crib. My heart went out to her, and I decided to carry her to our bedroom. As I approached, Sarah's phone screen suddenly lit up. A message appeared: “Sarah, is our son asleep?"