webnovel

Refaleo

Author: catleaf
Fiksi Realistik
Ongoing · 11.6K Views
  • 4 Chs
    Content
  • ratings
  • N/A
    SUPPORT

What is Refaleo

Synopsis

Adit melihat kembali lembaran kertas yang berisi lowongan pekerjaan. "Kamu yakin bang?" Adit melirik lagi kertas yang di genggamnya. "Disini jelas tertulis 'Male' yang dibutuhin berarti cowok." "Lo nggak usah pusing soal itu, boss gue lagi butuh banget asisten menjelang fashion week gini. Mesti diterima walau untuk sementara. Lo butuh banget pekerjaan kan sekarang?" Adit menganguk tanpa ragu. "Oke, kalau begitu besok lo datang bareng gue ke butik." "Tapi ...," ucapnya ragu. "Di coba dulu, Dit." "Okey," ucapnya pelan.

You May Also Like

Transmigration: President Wang, Your Wife Is An Assassin!

"President Wang, your wife just issued a threat to the manager of Zhao Company. He's en route to file a report at the—" "Did she at least leave him with all his limbs intact?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his expression reflecting astonishment. "Color me surprised." Another individual entered his office. "President Wang, your wife has just dismissed the Senior Director. Regrettably, it's led to quite a chaotic situation and—" "I was planning to let him go anyway." _____ Olivia Shang, once an assassin, fell victim to her colleagues' jealousy and was murdered. Through an otherworldly occurrence, she found herself transmigrated into the body of Jolene Yu, an unattractive young woman within the pages of a comic book. Jolene Yu, an expendable character, grapples with a terminal illness and endures harsh treatment from everyone around her. Her stepsister even goes to the extent of arranging for her life to be cut short by hired hands. However, before any harm can befall her, a mysterious man intervenes, claiming to be her husband. Upon awakening in this feeble form, Olivia realizes she cannot endure the torment and resolves to confront those who have bullied her. With her past assailants nowhere to be found, she seizes the opportunity to rectify her past mistakes. Yet, the sudden appearance of a stranger insisting to be her husband baffles her. And he wasn't just a stranger, he was the fifth young master of the Wang Family, a ferocious man known as the Devil's first son and also the CEO and founder of a very famous tech company. After enduring untold suffering in her previous life, having been exploited as a tool, Olivia swears not to squander the new lease on life she's been granted. Even if it means eliminating the story's designated female lead to ensure her survival, she's prepared to do so. Even if she must manipulate her family's wealth to fund her surgery, she's resolute! All for the sake of rewriting her unfortunate fate. But is there not a popular say that an assassin is always an assassin? FL: Stubborn and Smart. ML: Caring and Cruel. Excerpt* Jolene smirked, "Can't even help your own wife?" Sebastian's brows furrowed seeing her change in countenance. Wasn't she the one begging that she would pay him back for his care? How could she change all of a sudden like she was demanding from him? "I have things to do right now. I'll sort this out when I'm back from work," Sebastian replied, his expression blank. Jolene shook her head in wonder before saying, "The last time you came back from work, you were drunk. And that was yesterday. Today you are off to work without seeing me? We have only shared one or two words for the past two weeks." Sebastian was startled at her confrontation but Jolene wasn't done yet. "Mr. Wang, is that how to treat your wife?" Sebastian swallowed, looking down at Jolene. He said, "Are you going to cause a scene here, Miss Jolene?" "You mean Mrs. Wang? I am Mrs. Wang for christ's sake. Your wife." Jolene folded her arms before saying, "I think there is a need to complete the documents signing. I want to sign it completely and then we will perform a grand wedding to let everyone know that you are married to me. Don't worry, after the contract has expired, we can announce that we have divorced. I won't take a penny from you, it is written that way in the agreement, right?" "Miss Jolene, you must understand that legally you can not fulfil the signatures since you aren't mentally stable. It may be termed that you signed it under manipulation or anything related, so we have to ensure that you are medically upright before you can sign any legal documents." Jolene chuckled before releasing her arms, "Is this young man trying to say that I'm crazy?" Jolene shook her head, knowing what she was doing was dramatic. Actually, she needed the drama to confirm something which she had for 57% be assured of.

Yangyang17 · Urban
Not enough ratings
66 Chs

A GAME OF THRONES

“We should start back,” Gared urged as the woods began to grow dark around them. “The wildlings are dead.” “Do the dead frighten you?” Ser Waymar Royce asked with just the hint of a smile. Gared did not rise to the bait. He was an old man, past fifty, and he had seen the lordlings come and go. “Dead is dead,” he said. “We have no business with the dead.” “Are they dead?” Royce asked softly. “What proof have we?” “Will saw them,” Gared said. “If he says they are dead, that’s proof enough for me.” Will had known they would drag him into the quarrel sooner or later. He wished it had been later rather than sooner. “My mother told me that dead men sing no songs,” he put in. “My wet nurse said the same thing, Will,” Royce replied. “Never believe anything you hear at a woman’s tit. There are things to be learned even from the dead.” His voice echoed, too loud in the twilit forest. “We have a long ride before us,” Gared pointed out. “Eight days, maybe nine. And night is falling.” Ser Waymar Royce glanced at the sky with disinterest. “It does that every day about this time. Are you unmanned by the dark, Gared?” Will could see the tightness around Gared’s mouth, the barely suppressed anger in his eyes under the thick black hood of his cloak. Gared had spent forty years in the Night’s Watch, man and boy, and he was not accustomed to being made light of. Yet it was more than that. Under the wounded pride, Will could sense something else in the older man. You could taste it; a nervous tension that came perilous close to fear. Will shared his unease. He had been four years on the Wall. The first time he had been sent beyond, all the old stories had come rushing back, and his bowels had turned to water. He had laughed about it afterward. He was a veteran of a hundred rangings by now, and the endless dark wilderness that the southron called the haunted forest had no more terrors for him. Until tonight. Something was different tonight. There was an edge to this darkness that made his hackles rise. Nine days they had been riding, north and northwest and then north again, farther and farther from the Wall, hard on the track of a band of wildling raiders. Each day had been worse than the day that had come before it. Today was the worst of all. A cold wind was blowing out of the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things. All day, Will had felt as though something were watching him, something cold and implacable that loved him not. Gared had felt it too. Will wanted nothing so much as to ride hellbent for the safety of the Wall, but that was not a feeling to share with your commander. Especially not a commander like this one. Ser Waymar Royce was the youngest son of an ancient house with too many heirs. He was a handsome youth of eighteen, grey-eyed and graceful and slender as a knife. Mounted on his huge black destrier, the knight towered above Will and Gared on their smaller garrons. He wore black leather boots, black woolen pants, black moleskin gloves, and a fine supple coat of gleaming black ringmail over layers of black wool and boiled leather. Ser Waymar had been a Sworn Brother of the Night’s Watch for less than half a year, but no one could say he had not prepared for his vocation. At least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned. His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin. “Bet he killed them all himself, he did,” Gared told the barracks over wine, “twisted their little heads off, our mighty warrior.” They had all shared the laugh. It is hard to take orders from a man you laughed at in your cups, Will reflected as he sat shivering atop his garron. Gared must have felt the same. “Mormont said as we should track them, and we did,” Gared said. “They’re dead. They shan’t trouble us no more. There’s hard riding before us. I don’t like this weather. If it snows, we could be a fortnight getting back, and snow’s the best we can hope for. Ever seen an ice storm .

Elizabethe · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
1 Chs

ratings

  • Overall Rate
  • Writing Quality
  • Updating Stability
  • Story Development
  • Character Design
  • world background
Reviews

SUPPORT

More about this book

Parental Guidance Suggestedmature rating
Report