Karma Akabane Cool

Seberapa memalukan hukuman cambuk di Diusz? Di bawah tatapan beberapa pria kekar, rokku disingkap ke atas dengan kasar dan aku langsung dicambuk. Akan tetapi, suamiku malah bersemangat, sampai-sampai tubuh bagian bawah miliknya bereaksi. Malam itu, akhirnya aku bisa merasakan kembali kebahagiaanku yang telah lama hilang ….

"Apa kau mencintai aku? Bagaimana dengan Yuni?" Abizhar tak langsung menyahut. Diamnya untuk sesaat sudah menjadi jawaban yang jelas bagi Shelina. "Aku.. Tentu aku mencintaimu, tapi soal Yuni... Keadaannya rumit. Aku harus tahu keadaannya bagaimana, apakah dia masih membutuhkan aku..," kata Abizhar terdengar kikuk. "Kau harus mengerti aku, Shelina." "Baru kusadari akulah duri dalam hubungan kalian," sahut Shelina pilu. "Aku tidak mau lagi memaksamu untuk mencintai aku. Sekarang Yuni lebih membutuhkanmu daripada aku." Demi sebuah tanah dan jabatan, Abizhar rela mengorbankan kebebasannya dengan menikahi Shelina yang terobsesi padanya. Akankah dia mencintai istrinya? Atau dia kembali pada mantan kekasihnya yang juga simpanannya selama dia menjadi suami Shelina?

Aku seorang wanita dengan hasrat seksual yang sangat kuat. Meski tidak melakukan pemeriksaan di rumah sakit, aku tahu kalau diriku pasti kecanduan seks.Terutama pada masa ovulasi, aku harus lakukan setidaknya dua atau tiga kali sehari. Kalau tidak, aku bakal terasa gatal di sekujur tubuh. Awalnya, suamiku yang tinggi dan kuat bisa mengisi kesepian tubuhku. Namun, dia sangat sibuk akhir-akhir ini dan sedang dalam perjalanan bisnis selama lebih dari setengah bulan...

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

Aku iri pada ibu, dia cantik seperti sekuntum bunga, disukai oleh semua pria di desa. Dia hanya perlu berbaring di ranjang setiap hari tanpa perlu bekerja, hidup dengan nyaman dan terawat. Sementara aku yang lahir darinya, justru berkulit gelap dan kurus, harus bekerja tanpa henti mengurus ladang dan pekerjaan rumah. Anak-anak desa pun sering menggangguku. Mereka bilang aku pembawa sial dan kelak pasti akan dinikahkan dengan dewa gunung, lalu mati tragis di kuilnya. Sebelum hari pernikahan tiba, aku diam-diam menukar posisi dengan ibu.

FICTIONARY TALES: A collection of short stories. Welcome to fictionary tales all written by me which include topics such as KARMA, Love, Revenge, Trauma, Tragedy, Happy endings, Sad endings, Mystery, Adventure and so much more!!

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

El día que papá asistió a una fiesta con su ex y se volvió tendencia, todos se burlaban de mi mamá. Decían que había dejado atrás una gran carrera para entrar en una familia rica, pero después de treinta años seguía sin nombre ni lugar, sin siquiera el valor de reclamarle a la amante. Después de tanto llorar, mamá me miró cansada. —Él me falló primero, así que yo tampoco lo quiero. —Amanda, ¿te vas conmigo? Justo entonces sonó mi celular. Era un mensaje de mi novio de siete años: "Amanda, solo es un acta de matrimonio. ¿No podemos seguir como novios?" Guardé silencio unos segundos antes de asentir. Así fue que, el mismo día de su boda, mamá y yo desaparecimos entre las llamas de la mansión.