Romans & histoires Exo Drop That

The moment I find out about my pregnancy, a notification from Twitter is displayed on my phone. Apparently, it's a tweet posted by my husband, Don Romano Caliendo's childhood friend, Teresa Fiorino. "Thanks to your sperm, I get to have a child of my own during the last stage of my life." The accompanying photo is a pregnancy test that clearly states that the sperm donor is Romano. I leave a question mark in the comment section. In just half a minute, my phone begins ringing loudly. Romano's angry voice bursts from the loudspeakers immediately. I've only heard him adapt such a tone whenever he gets mad at others during family meetings. "What did you mean by that comment, Selene Gardo? Teresa is dying from cancer! All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company before she breathes her last! Don't you have any sympathy for her at all?" Before I can put down my phone, my Twitter homepage gets refreshed. This time, Teresa has uploaded another photo. It features a luxurious deluxe-style apartment, where the floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the breathtaking cityscape of Brindleport at night. The caption reads, "Thank you for giving me a home so that I don't feel lonely in my final days." In a corner of the photo, Romano can be seen crouching on the floor while piecing a baby cot together. His side profile shows how focused he is on the task. As I wipe my tears from the corners of my eyes, I silently caress my flat belly, which has yet to show any changes. I'll take you far, far away from here, my dear baby.

To help my wife secure a director position, I spent an entire month working on a single deal, negotiating back and forth until I locked in the sale of a multimillion-dollar luxury apartment. On the day we were supposed to sign, Stella Frost handed the main contract to Tanner Davis, a new hire who had barely been with the company. When I asked Stella about it, she hesitated, her eyes shifting away before she answered. "Tanner studied overseas. His background is stronger than yours, and his Waldreich is better. The client has a foreign partner. It'll go more smoothly if he takes the lead." As she spoke, she slipped her arm through mine, like she always did when she expected me to back down. This time, I didn't smile. I just looked at her. That afternoon, I submitted my resignation and finished handing over every major client under my name. Stella tore the letter apart in front of me, her frustration turning quickly into something sharper. "When I married you, I didn't even care that you only had a high school education. And now you're making an issue out of a new hire?" I let out a quiet laugh. She was right. My education wasn't impressive. But she had forgotten one thing. I hadn't become the top closer in the city because of a degree.

I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."

My contract with the company is about to come to an end, and I'm already planning to renew it. But a few days before that, my boss, Dustin Kline, requested that I lower the percentage of my bonus in the project. The reason he gave is that I'm still young. Even if I were to take over other projects, I'd also do a good job. Dustin even made empty promises to me just so he could get me to give the projects I'm in charge of to Sandy Richmond, the new department manager in the company. When I refused to do so, he threatened to not give me my salary in order to get me to comply. The next day, the company is reduced to a laughing stock at the product launch event. Our client thinks the company's technological skills are too weak to back up the big talk, so they refuse to pay the remainder of the contracted sum. When Dustin begs me for help, I just look at him in amusement. "I refuse to get manipulated by anyone in this workplace. You're more than capable of dealing with your own problems. I believe in you, Mr. Kline."

“One signature. One night. One deal she can never escape.” Jenna’s life was already falling apart when the devil himself walked in Nathan Vale. Cold eyed, dangerously powerful, and untouchable, he offers her the one thing she needs most: a way out. The price? Her freedom. Bound by a contract she can’t refuse, Jenna is thrown into a world where rules are carved in blood and loyalty is a weapon. Nathan’s demands are simple—obey, stay close, never question him—but every look, every touch, and every secret pulls her deeper into a darkness she swore she’d never enter. As enemies close in, Jenna realizes the greatest danger isn’t outside—it’s the man who owns her. And when the line between protection and possession blurs, she must decide fight for her soul… or lose it to him forever.

Since I moved into this apartment, I kept dreaming about a man every time I fell asleep. The man told me he was my husband. However, I had only just started college. When I woke up, my lower back ached, and my body felt sore. My neighbor was a psychologist, and he prescribed some medication to help me sleep. Unfortunately, the dreams became even more real. One night, the man leaned close to my ear and whispered, “You can’t escape me.”

On the seventh year since Winter Lidell's father was diagnosed with a deadly heart disease, he's finally eligible for a suitable heart meant for the transplant procedure. On the night before the surgery, Winter's husband of seven years, Liam Jager, requests that she give the heart to his mistress, Regina Baile. Liam still looks tall and handsome as ever, but the cold and aloof expression on his face is something that Winter has never seen before. "Winnie." His voice is emotionless. "Regina's condition is deteriorating rapidly." Winter feels her heart sinking the moment she hears her nickname being uttered coldly. She takes half a step backward instinctively, feeling a premonition looming over her. "She needs a heart transplant." Liam's gaze is fixed on Winnie, his tone carrying a hint of absolute decisiveness. "Right. Now." Every word feels like a blade made of ice cutting into Winnie's heart, where hope is starting to flare. Winnie's voice quivers violently, her words coming out fragmented and broken. "What… are you talking about, Liam? My dad… My dad has been waiting for this heart for seven years!"

After taking a shower, I stepped barefoot onto the smart scale at home. A cheerful chime rang out. "Congratulations, Mia, you're in your second trimester. The baby weighs three pounds already!" I froze. I was pregnant? How did I not know? Heart pounding, I snatched up my phone and immediately called my husband. "What's going on with the scale at home? I'm pregnant?!" There was a moment of silence on the other end before his familiar, gentle chuckle came through. "Mila, it's just a scale. The data must be wrong. Maybe you're just too sensitive since you haven't been able to get pregnant." I hung up and connected the scale to Bluetooth. In the data log, I saw three months' worth of steadily increasing numbers. Grabbing my car keys, I headed straight for Mia Lane's university.

My car was passing by the entrance of the office when I saw both my sisters 'wrestling' vigorously with a bum. I wasn't surprised, however, even recording a video of it and sending it to the biggest news outlet of the country, saying, "I want it seen across the world before 7pm." After all, in my last life, those two sisters were so keen to please Harold Langford that they allowed him to steal my birthright all he wanted. I bore with it because they were family, and ended up resting in pieces. But now that I had a second chance, I would return the favor. At the company gala, Harold once again took my seat as he snorted at me haughtily. "Hmph! If Ellie and Jennie didn't insist on showing you how the world works, a poor college student like you wouldn't even make it through the front door!" "Know your place and don't cause me trouble, or they will have you beaten to a pulp!" Seeing that he was still running his mouth, I kicked him three feet away as I chuckled. "Who do you think you are? How dare you strut when you're just a gigolo who only knows how to please hags!"

As soon as Danielle Bradford has recovered from her postpartum period, she brings her baby to the county clerk's office to register for the baby's birth certificate. "My baby's full name is Taylor Gardner. Her father is Matthew Gardner." The employee types on the keyboard, but his brows draw tighter afterward. "The system has flagged another child with the same name under the same father." His words leave Danielle momentarily stunned. Thinking that her ears have deceived her, she blurts out, "That's impossible! Our baby has just turned one month old!" But Danielle feels her phone buzzing in her pocket before she can finish speaking. She taps on the screen, only to see a photo sent by Matthew's assistant, Meghan Landry. In the photo, Matthew has his left arm wrapped around Meghan's waist while carrying a five-year-old boy with his right arm. The three of them stand in front of a kindergarten's entrance with smiles so bright that they practically sting Danielle's eyes. On the boy's chest is a nametag that clearly says "Taylor Gardner".