dirty curve

"Everytime I think about you, I feel like I'm burning." W-why?" "You know why." "But-" "I have this weird thoughts in my head. this naughty, dirty thoughts. About you." "V-Victor-" "So they real question is, what will I do, when I actually see you in person, Cilia?" ----- That becomes the life of Cilia Carpenter, a girl that lives with the biggest boyband of the world, Heathens. Being the only girl in the lives of seven grown men, Cilia has to navigate her life with caution, but it all goes up in flames when the seven boys fall head over heels for her at once, and a competition for her affection arises. But here's the catch. Cilia is dead. And that is her ghost they are in love with. So will this love really bloom? Will Cilia be able to hold back from creating a harem and resist their temptation? Or will Heathens lives blow up over their love for a ghost?

During the year that changed my life, my high school homeroom teacher called me to the corridor and asked if I was the heroine of the dirty scandal that shook the whole school. “I know you’re here on a scholarship because of your family’s underprivileged background, but you can’t just do anything for money!” As everyone threw me strange looks, she continued smugly, “Don’t deny it. The mole on the girl’s neck is just like yours!” I calmly wiped off the ink stain on my skin, revealing my unblemished neck. My teacher turned red in the face. Unfortunately for her, I had been reborn. This time, I was not going to fall into the same traps.

Sabiana Zoreta was bought for fifteen million pesos. At the very young age of twenty, she was being bid in an elite club. She was taken there to be sold and included in an auction. Kidnapped at the age of five by her father from her wealthy known stepdad, she later questioned why he would sell her when she grew up. Could a father really sell his own child? For her father, the answer was yes. Pinalaki siya para pagkakitaan, but the man who bought her didn’t want her for just one night. He wanted her to be his lover—Lennox Montebello, the prince of the underground organization, dirty, dangerous, and dark.

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"