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What? is a mystery story that will leave the readers question what exactly is going on with our main character. The setting is based on the islands of the Philippines. Vladimir is an established business man but is very spontaneous and outgoing. One morning, he woke up in an unfamiliar place with people whom he apparently met the night before with no recollection of who he is and how he got there. He was in an island resort owned by Noah, I hot entrepreneur who is willing to take care of him and give him shelter until he regains his memory. Meanwhile, back in the mainland, Vladimir is allegedly reported missing by his family and led by his husband, Andrew and his friend Davin and Victor. Vladimir's loved ones are on a mission to find him in anyway possible. Will Vlad regain his memory while on Noah's Island? Will Andrew find any leads on how to find Vladimir?

“Omega, in about an hour, you’ll feel warm, dizzy, and overcome with hormones in your body.” I paled. “What happens after it takes effect?” “Then an alpha in the surrounding area will react to your scent.” After an hour, the nurse popped her head in. She had a strange look in her eyes and I didn’t like it. “So he is out there?” The nurse’s smile fell, “No, not one.” My eyes widened. “two?” “No, you have four mates.” I shook my head. “No, that’s not possible!” She sighed and opened her phone. “Your mates are as follows; Colby Mcgrath, Rain Kim, Matthew Clark, and Jade Johnson.” When she said the first name I started to feel faint but then the nurse kept rattling off all the names of my tormenters for years. How could I be tied to all of my brother’s friends? My panties got wet, I refused to accept that this was a hormonal reaction.

At my own wedding, the groom switched—Malcolm Lowell bailed, and the best man stepped in. Lumi, the Irving's real daughter, latched onto Malcolm's arm and smirked from the crowd. "I was just feeling a little low," she said. "Didn't think Malcolm would go this far for me." Malcolm raised a brow. "I just wanted to make her happy. You took her spot for years. Time to pay it back. This is for your own good." That's when it hit me—this whole wedding was a setup, a twisted show just to entertain Lumi. All because I was the adopted one. I'd lived in her place for over two decades. I didn't cry. Didn't freak out. I just took the new groom's hand, faced the priest, and said, "Keep going."

She looked at her with contempt, her red heels clicking on the ground. A sinister smile is plastered on her face full of malice. "Whatever you do, he's mine. Even if you go back in time, he's always be mine." Then the man beside the woman with red heels, snaked his hands on her waist. "You'll never be my partner. You're a trash!" The pair walked out of that dark alley and left her coughing blood. At the last seconds of her life, her lifeless eyes closed. *** Jade angrily looked at the last page of the book. She believed that everyone deserves to be happy. She heard her mother calling for her to eat but reading is her first priority. And so, until she felt dizzy reading, she fell asleep. *** Words she can't comprehend rang in her ears. She's now the 'Heather' in the book. [No, I won't change the story. I'll just watch on the sidelines.] This is what she believed not until... "Stop slandering Heather unless you want to lose your necks." That was the beginning of her new life as a character. Cover Illustration: JEIJANDEE (follow her on IG with the same username) Release Schedule: Every Saturday NOTE: This work is undergoing major editing (grammar and stuffs) and hopefully will be finished this month, so expect changes. Thank you~!

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

At a dinner party, my genius painter of a husband, Henry Shepherd, used his hands, hands insured for millions, to shell crabs for his young assistant, Tamara Lee. This was all to coax her into eating a few bites when she claimed she had no appetite. Meanwhile, I drank myself into a bloody mess, trying to secure investments for him. When I asked him to hand me some antacids, he refused without even looking up. “These hands are for painting. Use your own.” For ten years, he couldn’t even be bothered to change the way he treated me. That night, as I sobered up in the cold wind, I asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Henry, in this vast, chaotic world, our paths end here," I said inwardly