Work It Out Ablaze Lyrics Novels & Stories

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

When I'm pulling an overnight shift at midnight, I receive a text from my boyfriend of five years, Robert Howell. "I've already ended the rental agreement on our previous apartment. I'm sending you our new address now." After glancing at the address, realization dawns on me immediately. "Is this because of Daisy again?" Daisy Baldwin is the so-called delicate yet strong-willed young woman, whom Robert has mentioned to me. This is our third time moving apartments in just half a year. We've moved from a high-end apartment located in the boisterous city all the way to a residential area in the rural slums. All this… just so Robert can get closer to Daisy. I must have exposed Robert's true intentions, for he sounds quite humiliated and furious. "Can you stop being so petty? Dee Dee was stalked after she got off her overtime shift! You're a woman as well; how is it that you don't have any trace of empathy for her?" As I look out the window and see the night sky, I feel a wave of exhaustion hitting me all of a sudden. Honestly, I don't remember how many times Robert and I have argued over Daisy. At first, I was enraged and aggrieved. Now, I'm just speechless. "I can't be bothered to waste my breath on you. I'm going to pick Dee Dee up from work now." Robert ends the call before I can respond. The thing is, Robert has never asked me if I wanted to move right from the start. He also never asks me if I need a ride home since it's already this late at night. That's why I drop my signature on the overseas assignment agreement that has been left on my desk for a week without consulting Robert at all.

She was about to share her wonderful news, but he beat her to it with a revelation of his own: “I think we should get a divorce.” In an instant, her entire world crumbled. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll divorce you.” --- Because she had used her family’s influence to force Parawee into a marriage he never wanted, he had spent three years merely enduring her. But now, Nicha—the woman he had always loved with all his heart—was back. “Let’s get a divorce.” He finally made his move to end it, expecting a clean break and a fresh start. --- Kajarin had been in love with Wee for as long as she could remember. She had begged her family to do whatever it took to make him hers, even though she knew his heart was already occupied. “I have some good news for you.” She had been ready to tell him, but his sudden demand for a divorce changed everything. Now, she had no choice but to bury her secret as deep as it would go. “Let’s head to the district office. I’ll give you the divorce you’ve been waiting for.” She was done. Truly, utterly done with it all. --- While driving his favorite yellow ride, Thamnithi was suddenly flagged down by a woman in a cream mini-dress. She looked like she was running from something, and moved by a sense of kindness, he decided to pick her up. But that one good deed was about to become a moment he would never forget for the rest of his life. “Damn it, Tham! What have you gotten yourself into?!”

Ariana Lubove and Spencer Ulrich have been married for three years. She doesn't hope to win his heart, but she thinks that she's at least special to him. To her devastation, he finds himself a mistress and treats her like she's his treasure. Ariana finally faces reality and gets a divorce. She turns to leave without another look back. Five years later, she shows up with a little boy by her side. Spencer looks at the boy and snorts. "You're a little bastard." The boy gives him an equally icy look. "And you're an old bastard." Five years is enough for Spencer to turn a new leaf and start with a clean slate. He's confident he can win Ariana's heart again. But why the hell does he have rivals in love all over the world?

After having dinner on the holiday eve, I'm about to distribute the gift cards to the younger generation of the family when my daughter, Lisa Mercer, speaks up. "Mom, we're not going to celebrate the holidays at home. You should pack up and go back to your own home too." Shock flashes across my face. "It's nighttime, and yet you want me to leave right now?" Lisa replies calmly, "I'm doing this for your own good. If you stay in my house on your own, you won't be able to defend yourself if anything in this house goes missing." I no longer question Lisa. Instead, I pack my own belongings and go back to my childhood home. One week later, when Lisa and the rest of the family comes back from their vacation, they are stunned, to say the least. After all, the house that they've lived in for the past eight years now has a new owner.

On the day I'm due for my labor, Chad Nelson's first love, Lucy Baker, who's diagnosed with depression, barges into the maternity ward. Without warning, she plunges the knife she's holding into my belly. By the time Chad and the medical team arrive at the ward, I'm already lying in a pool of my own blood on the bed. The machine recording my vitals keeps screeching loudly the whole time. But Chad crouches down next to Lucy, who has gotten shoved to the floor by a nurse earlier. It seems that her elbow has suffered from light abrasions. "Dr. Nelson, your spouse is in critical condition. She needs to undergo a surgery immediately!" Chad raises his head to glance at me. His tone is cool and professional. "None of Caitlin's vital organs are hurt by the stab, so she can still endure the pain for now. Lucy, on the other and, has a coagulation disorder. Even though she has only suffered from abrasions, there's a chance that her blood flow can't be staunched at all. This makes her situation more critical than Caitlin's. "Anyway, give the two bags of blood in the blood bank to Lucy." When I get pushed away, I use all of my strength to grip Chad's white coat tightly. He just frowns at me in return. "Lucy didn't do this on purpose. Her depression has gotten triggered, that's all. Since you're a woman of medicine, you should be more empathetic toward the patient." After that, Chad digs out a letter of forgiveness from his pocket that he has already printed out in advance.

My husband, Geoffrey Terell, takes his childhood friend, Valerie Nash, and his best female friend, Jennifer Gorman, to a business gathering. But he suddenly texts me at 2:00 am, saying that he's suffering from a stomachache and that he wants me to pick him up at the clubhouse. Driven mad by anxiety, I quickly head toward the clubhouse with some chicken soup. But all I see is Geoffrey with his arms around both women and his eyes closed. He even starts kissing them under the guise of feeding them alcohol with his mouth. Valerie also has an arm around his shoulders as she shoots me a provocative look. "Wow, you're quick to come under Geoffrey's orders! You really are an obedient one! It so happens that Geoffrey isn't done with his dare yet. "How about you get down on your knees and serve us alcohol? Then I'll consider this round Geoffrey's win." I expect Geoffrey to turn that idea down. But he merely leans against the couch with his arm around Valerie's waist before pointing at the alcohol bottles on the table, as though he's ordering a maid around. "You hear that? Hurry up and pour us alcohol! Valerie and Jennifer are my queens tonight. I must obey them no matter what. "Also, you're not allowed to leave if you don't finish pouring the bottles." I've invested tens of billions of dollars just to make Geoffrey the most prominent CEO in Hallford. At the end of the day, he chooses to play the role of a lapdog for other women, huh? Since he likes demeaning himself that much, he can forget about keeping his position as the CEO.

On the night the family manor was set on fire, my husband Don Luciano Cacciola whisked Loretta Peri away. "Be a good girl and wait for me here, Tati. I'll send my men over to pick you up soon." As soon as he left, the explosions buried around the villa were set off instantly. That's when I sent Luciano one last text. "Luciano, we're even now." Rumors had it that Luciano had gone mad after that incident. As he gripped the burned ring, he purged the entire mafia family on his own. After that, he kneeled before my grave for three long days. When Luciano found out that there was a possibility of my surviving the explosion, he decided to give away half of his family fortune just so he could track me down. Three years later, Luciano stares at the woman, who's toying with a pistol, with red-rimmed eyes at the family's negotiation table. "Tati… Is that you?" I pull the trigger in response, causing a bullet to ricochet past Luciano's ear. "You got the wrong person, Mr. Cacciola. I'm here to take your life." As I watch Luciano kneel by my feet and press a kiss onto the tip of my high heel, I can't help but laugh. This time, it's my turn to choose.

My wolf has a rare gift—she can detect lies and reveal the truth about what anyone tries to deceive. My Alpha—Theron Shadewound—loves me dearly. For as long as I've known him, he's never once lied to me. However, a month before our mating ceremony, my wolf catches a whisper of truth from his heart. He had thought, "I'm holding the mating ceremony with Mirelle next week, and Arynn must never find out." I freeze when I realize something. He'll be using the ballroom I spent two months meticulously setting up to host a mating ceremony next week with his childhood sweetheart, Mirelle Hollowmaw. As it turns out, my mating ceremony, scheduled a month later, is nothing but a joke. Quietly, I pack my belongings and book a ticket to leave the Nightcrest pack. On the day Theron and Mirelle pledge themselves to each other, I walk away without looking back.