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.

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

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.

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world. Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage. An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity. The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity. How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation. Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free.

I spent three years playing the mousy, supportive wife to tech mogul Julian Vanderbilt, fixing his code and hiding my past as an elite special ops captain. Everything shattered at our anniversary gala when I saw my mother's heirloom emerald necklace hanging around the neck of Julian's mistress. When I confronted him, Julian didn't even look up from his drink, telling me to stop being "territorial" because I was too plain to wear such jewelry anyway. The humiliation peaked when he refused to attend my parents' military repatriation the next morning, choosing an investor brunch with his mistress instead. I stood in our penthouse watching him dote on her, realizing I had used my parents' death benefits to build a throne for a man who treated me like disposable trash. I couldn't understand how the man I had quietly saved from a burning yacht years ago could be so blind to the warrior standing right in front of him. He had no idea that the very empire he bragged about was built entirely on my technology and my sacrifice. I didn't argue; I simply went to the safe and pulled out my black beret and my high-level security credentials. As I revoked his admin access and watched his billion-dollar world begin to glitch, I walked out to meet the military honor guard. It was time to remind Julian Vanderbilt exactly who he had married-and exactly how much it was going to cost him to lose me.