Monalisa Andres

I took a deep breath before slowly opening my eyes. I was wearing a white gown that hugged my body, making me look even more beautiful. I glanced at the bouquet of white flowers in my hand and smiled before walking into the garden. I was amazed because the theme of our wedding was in my favorite color, and there were butterflies happily flying around. I was happy because the family of the man I had dreamed of accepted me. They wanted our wedding, even though it was sudden, and I was happy despite it being an arranged marriage in an unexpected situation. I thought this only happened to rich people, but I was wrong because it happened to me too. If only I could scream and shout that I am the luckiest woman in the world because the man I once dreamed of is now mine. "Love is a choice," he said, so I trusted him a lot, but he had one request for the right time. There was no problem because he was mature enough when it came to relationships, and we loved each other. But fate is truly deceptive because a time came when many "what if" questions flooded my mind. What if I couldn't fulfill his one request and dream? What if his former lover could give it to him instead? What if I saw him happy with her because of that dream? Can I stay with him even if he says he loves me but prioritizes her? What if fate tests us, and even though we love each other, he chooses her because that's what he's making me feel now? "I don't want to hurt you, but they are my family now," he said seriously, and I lowered my head and cried in front of him. I could still hold on, but I could feel that he didn't want to anymore. Should I still fight for him even though it hurts so much? I wondered. "Do you want me to leave?" I asked bravely, hoping he would say no, but I was wrong. "If that's what's best. Leave," he said for the last time and hurriedly turned his back on me. I couldn't do anything but cry and cry, so I made a decision. "For the sake of your dream, I'll do it," I said softly and started packing my things. I hope you'll be happy when the time comes that fate brings us together again. I'm Christian Rana Reyes. And he is Frank Lin Mondragon.

He had really prepared for this day; today, he would finally confess his love to her. "Sorry, Melvin, I don't want anything from you." I felt as if the ground had fallen away beneath me after he spoke. Immediately, we heard a scream in the distance. And I knew who it was-none other than Augusto Guillermo, the man who captivated all the girls at school. There wasn't a girl who didn't like him, while we boys were constantly overshadowed because of him. "Why is he here again? Isn't he rich? Why choose to study here?" "Tsk! There he goes again, your annoying hero!" said the guy next to me. "Oh, don't expect your Chelsea to respond to you! As long as that man is around, none of the girls here will like us," I muttered, left alone, glaring at Augusto. He should disappear from this school. He gets all the attention; besides being handsome, he's also smart and is likely to be the top student next semester. Suddenly, he had a thought, and from that moment, he knew he would regret it. He discovered that the man was ruthless, as he had seen him tormenting his classmates who had spoken ill of him earlier. What was even worse was catching him in a compromising position with someone, a girl who looked like the school president. That was the result of his surveillance and the trauma it caused him because of the sickening things he saw. He gathered evidence and spread it all over campus, causing a big commotion. What will happen when Augusto finds out that he was the one who spread the rumors? Will his quiet life end, or will everything remain a secret? Stay tuned.

"Ahhh! No! Don't kill me! Don't..." Sweat poured and Shu trembled due to the multitude of imaginations swirling in his mind at that moment. They had just finished the betrothal wedding and were currently gathered for dinner. While eating, he couldn't help but think of various things, especially knowing that he would be joining his husband after they finished eating. "Hays, erase! Erase! What am I thinking! He probably isn't that aggressive. Besides, I'm still a minor and this is just a pre-wedding. He probably won't force me to do anything with him tonight!" With that thought, his hands shook as he clutched his dress under the table, which was noticed by the man beside him who then smirked. He flinched slightly when the man suddenly leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Relax, I'm not your groom, Miss. Your groom couldn't attend today's wedding." Confusion replaced the fear and anxiety that had enveloped her when she heard what the man, who had exchanged rings with her earlier, said. "A-aren't you Mr. Griffin?" "No, Ma'am. I'm Lieutenant Carber, the General's right-hand man. I was instructed to represent him." "W-what?!" "You heard right, Ma'am. He was busy and couldn't attend. However, he did leave instructions regarding what you should do now that the wedding is over." "Huh! I can't believe it, he really might be the demon they say he is! I was wondering why this man seems kind and doesn't look like a demon, turns out he's not really the infamous demon general who will be my husband!" she blurted out in frustration. "Did you say something?" Lieutenant Carber asked as he finished talking to other people at the table. Shu smiled falsely and shook her head at the still serious lieutenant. "Hays, if my twin wasn't sick, I wouldn't have agreed to marry that general! So mysterious, he might be ugly and old like they say, and on top of that, he's supposedly Lucifer's nephew who lost two wives already! Omg wait! What if he's the reason for their deaths like they say? Grr, scary!" She hugged herself and whispered with her eyes closed in fear. "I-if that's the case, when will I ever see and meet him. Hays, that demon General!" Background of the Story Shu had been married for four years to a man she had never seen or heard speak. She wasn't supposed to be the one to marry him, but rather the only daughter of a wealthy family where her mother worked. It's a complicated story; all she knew was that she woke up married to a man she didn't know. All she knew was that he had a high status and was a General, protector of the only child of the country's first family. From what she heard, he was cruel, strict, and had a terrifying aura. Despite the fear she felt, she still awaited the day she would finally see and meet him.

"Mr. Walter" I came back to my trance when sir called me, I just now noticed that they were all looking at me. "Huh?" I only said and put the ballpoint pen they were playing with on the table. "Any suggestions?" sir asked with raised eyebrows. "U-uh nothing" I sat down properly and adjusted myself. Gosh I'm spacing out. "Are you sure Mr.?" I turned to the speaker. I grinned when I saw who it was. "I'm sure Mr. Sunday" I said with a smile, as if our old man thought I didn't know him. He grinned at me and winked‚ meet Mr. Mon Sunday he is sir phayu's business partner and he is also one of the business tycoons‚ he is not just any business tycoon because he is one of the leaders of a gang called the DHS GANG‚ meaning. Dr*gs Hot S*x‚ this gang led by our old man is an illegal. you want to know why? they are the ones who transport the women, they kidnap the women and take them to other countries to be sold and made into wives by the mafia. And their gang is also the one that brings drugs into the Philippines. no one knows behind the mask that mr. Sunday‚ he has a good posture and he is also one of the people who look up to him as a good model‚ who knows? that all his stench is hidden behind that mask. "Goodbye‚ mr" said goodbye to mr. dominggo and patted my shoulder, our old grandson enjoyed hitting me..

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

Her sister is marrying her ex. So she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. What could possibly go wrong? Savannah Hart thought she was over Dean Archer-until her sister, Chloe announces she's marrying him. The same man Savannah never stopped loving. The man who left her heartbroken... and now belongs to her sister. A weeklong wedding in New Hope. One mansion full of guests. And a very bitter maid of honor. To survive it, Savannah brings a date-her charming, clean-cut best friend, Roman Blackwood. The one man who's always had her back. He owes her a favor, and pretending to be her fiancé? Easy. Until fake kisses start to feel real. Now Savannah's torn between keeping up the act... or risking everything for the one man she was never supposed to fall for.

The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.