Short Stories & Novels

My husband, Don Vincent Corleone, has gotten ambushed during a trade-off. When he wakes up, he still remembers everyone… but me. Soon, Vincent makes an announcement in front of everyone that Angela Mancini is his actual Donna. That's how Angela takes over my position as the precision machinist in the family. When I'm in the machinery storage room, I accidentally overhear Vincent and Angela flirting with each other. "Since you've lent me the identity as the Donna for a week, does this mean I get to do whatever I want with your body during this period?" Angela asks. "Of course! The only reason why I've pretended to have contracted amnesia is so that I can appease you, after all." As I hide in the shadows, I feel my nails digging into my palms. Still, I don't expose Vincent's lie on the spot. At the family meeting the next day, Vincent forcibly snatches away the obsidian ring that I've been wearing. He yells at me that Angela is his actual Donna, and that I should submit all of my blueprints to the family before leaving Neplas once and for all. All the subordinates stare at me, waiting for me to fight back. Without moving an inch, I submit my resignation on the spot and file for a divorce. What Vincent doesn't know is that I'm the only one who knows the assembly technology of the latest batch of firearms. There are only seven days left till the Corleone family has to hand the batch over to the client. Seven days later, the batch starts showing issues, which implicates the Corleone family and putting them in a dire state. But that's when I've completely vanished from Neplas. When Vincent and I meet each other again, he grabs me by the arm angrily while questioning me, "Where the hell have you gone to, Valenna? Why did you ditch me back then?" I pretend to look confused. "Who are you? Do I even know you?"

The day I confirmed I was three months pregnant, I went to Oliver's office to drop off some files. I was finally going to tell him the good news. The Pack was in the grip of a record heat wave, and with the temperature climbing toward 122 degrees, I reached over to switch on the AC. His secretary stopped me before I could. "Luna, I'm on my period, and our Pack wolves already carry the Cold Curse. It isn't hot enough to need the AC." But I was afraid the heat would hurt the tiny life growing inside me. I shot her a glance, said nothing, and turned it on anyway. Late that night, Oliver came home from a business dinner and led with an accusation the second he walked in. "Sophia already gets cramps and nausea on her period, and you blasted cold air at her for forty-one minutes and thirty-eight seconds. You put her in the ICU with stomach spasms." "Oliver, air conditioning doesn't hurt anyone, and I've had periods too. Never mind that. There's something important I need to tell you. I'm preg—" Oliver pulled the corner of his mouth into a smile, drew me into his arms, and cut off the words before I could finish. "I lost my head. You're right." He kissed my forehead the way he always did, murmuring softly until I fell asleep. But when I woke, I was inside a transparent glass freezer room. Every face around me belonged to someone important in the Pack. Outside the glass, Oliver stood with a hand on Sophia's soft waist, watching me with a smile. "You like the cold air? Then today you can have all you want." My heart sank. I pulled out my phone and photographed the people around me. Then I made a call. "Dad. None of these people need to live to see tomorrow's sun."

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

Two years ago, I was one of the Disease Control Agency's best researchers. But while I was investigating a batch of virus samples with unsequenced genetic codes, my husband's true love burned me to death. She poured rubbing alcohol over the virus samples she accidentally dropped and rendered me unconscious with diethyl ether. Then, she set the lab on fire and burned everything to a crisp. When the agency's other employees led the firefighters to the scene, she cried and claimed I'd stolen the virus samples after colluding with an unknown organization. A month later, an odd and aggressive virus spread throughout the city, leading to countless deaths. My husband, Ethan Carter, denounced and severed ties with me before getting together with his true love. The whole city turned on me, crying for my blood. Everyone said I was a spy from an external power. That changes when three daring high school students accidentally stumble upon the cordoned-off lab. They discover my charred body inside.

I'm a top healer at the Neutral Territory Sanctuary. The full moon watch had been draining. I'd barely stepped out the Sanctuary's grand doors when my phone blew up. It was the trauma wing. "Cora, get back here. Now. A patient just came in, severe wolfsbane poisoning. The Head Elder wants you leading the team!" My healer's instinct took over. I turned without a second thought. But then, a string of bizarre, floating red words appeared before my eyes—a fatal warning. 【DON'T YOU DARE STEP INTO THE ADVANCED HEALING ROOM! DON'T JOIN THIS RESCUE!】 【THE LUNA IS ALREADY DEAD. IF YOU GO IN NOW, YOU'RE JUST A SCAPEGOAT FOR THE ELDER'S DAUGHTER!】 【THIS PATIENT IS THE IRONCLAW PACK'S LUNA. THE ENRAGED ALPHA WILL TEAR YOU TO SHREDS. YOUR MATE AND FAMILY WILL BE DRAGGED DOWN WITH YOU!】 My feet froze to the spot. After a few seconds of dead silence, panic and a raw will to survive squeezed my heart. I decided to bet my life on those red lines. I was going all in. My Lycan vision scanned the dark street. My eyes locked onto it—an abandoned wolf trap at the corner of the street. The metal grate was gone, leaving it exposed. I clenched my jaw, squeezed my eyes shut, and without a second of hesitation, I leaped into that bottomless black hole.

When I died with a smile on my face, right before my brother's eyes, he looked as if the anguish might tear him apart. Yet, for twenty-one years, he hadn't stopped wishing I would meet this exact end. It all traced back to my fifth birthday—the day I had innocently hoped our parents would come home from their business trip to celebrate with me. They rushed back that night but never made it. A car accident took both their lives. From that moment on, my brother resented me, despised me. He didn't just stand idly by as our cousin snatched up my work as her own; he encouraged it. And when my landlord threw me out, it wasn't a random cruelty—it was my brother pulling the strings. All he had ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to see me die a miserable death. But when he finally got his wish… why did he cry, pleading for me to come back, begging me to call him 'brother' one last time?

Bad news: I died. Good news: I got transmigrated into a book. Bad news: I landed in the belly of a peasant woman and was about to be born as a fake heiress. Good news: I'd read this book cover to cover. I knew that when the real heiress came home, she'd use her parents' guilt against me. She'd even scheme to get me caught in bed with my own brother, so furious would our parents be that they'd throw me out of the house, and I'd die a miserable death in some back alley on a rainy night. So the year I turned five, I took every coin I'd ever been given and paid a street urchin to show up at the manor gates claiming to be the real heiress. When I turned eight, a second urchin took her place. At ten, a third. By the time I turned fifteen, the household already had eight "real heiresses" crammed into it. People back then didn't know about alum and water to distinguish family lines, so as far as anyone could tell, all eight girls shared blood with both the Marquis and his wife. As for why one daughter had become eight... The sage just smiled and said it wasn't meant to be spoken of. The year I turned sixteen, the real heiress finally came home.

After a breakup, I went to a nightclub and employed the services of a male escort. He turned out to be blind, so I immediately lost interest. I was about to leave when he suddenly pulled me into the bathroom. He revealed his chiseled abs and said in a deep, smooth voice, “Miss, I may not be able to see, but my fingers are very nimble.” As he spoke, he slid his hand under my dress.

The room falls silent when the butler of the Sherwoods places the DNA test results on the table. In my previous life, the real heiress, Phoebe Sherwood, is so greedy for wealth that she forces me to stay in the slums in her place. Later on, the Sherwood family is accused of money laundering. Their whole business empire collapses. Meanwhile, after news breaks that my poor parents and I win a lottery worth over 100 million dollars, someone targets and murders us. We die with hatred in our hearts. Now, in this life, Phoebe suddenly acts as if she's gone crazy. She throws her arms around our impoverished adoptive mother, whose clothes are covered in patches. She says, "I'm not leaving! Rosalyn is spoiled and delicate. She can't handle hardship. Let her stay with the wealthy family and enjoy a life of luxury. I want to stay with my parents and fulfill my duties as their daughter!" She cries pitifully, but when she turns around to sign a document severing ties with the Sherwoods, she can't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. My adoptive father is so moved that tears stream down his face. "Get out of here! The daughter we raised ourselves is the thoughtful one. We can't afford to associate with an ungrateful wretch like you!" The Sherwoods frown as they look at me. They open their mouths as if to say something but ultimately remain silent. My face devoid of any expression, I look at my adoptive family before turning and walking toward the luxury car. "Dad, Mom, let's go home." Phoebe is clueless. She doesn't know that in my previous life, I was the one who bought those winning lottery tickets.

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”

The freshman welcome party was loud—music blasting, people screaming over it. Then the external pacemaker on my chest started shrieking. 10 percent battery. Cold sweat hit fast. I always carried a backup. Always. I yanked open my backpack. No heavy medical battery pack. Just a flimsy power bank. One blinking bar.

To avoid being accused of favoritism, my mother forced me, despite my severe anemia, to participate in the school's group blood donation drive. After only 100 milliliters, my vision started going dark. I reached for the needle, trying to stop the procedure, but the young nurse immediately grabbed my wrist and pinned it down. "Only 100 milliliters and you already want to quit? The other students all donated 400." She glanced at my pale face, her eyes full of disgust. "Donating blood is something honorable. Selfish people like you, pretending to be sick just to get out of it, deserve to have double drawn as punishment!" Nearby, my mother watched me coldly, disappointment written all over her face. "Briana Hayes, is this really how I raised you? "Everyone else donated. Don't think you're special. "You will finish these 400 milliliters today, even if it kills you!" I gasped for air, my heartbeat pounding so violently it felt like my chest would explode. By the time they reached the third bag, my vision had completely blurred, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor. My soul slowly drifted upward as I looked at my mother with guilt in my eyes. I'm sorry, Mom. I really wasn't lying. This time… I truly couldn't hold on any longer.

Since childhood, I've been able to see the exact amount of money in someone's bank account floating above their head. At the orphanage, I use this gift to pick adoptive parents who look shabby but actually have a billion dollars sitting in the bank. Unfortunately, I only get to enjoy the good life for a short time before the family's real daughter is brought home. She's furious that I've taken her place and makes it her mission to make my life miserable. In order to stay in school, I swallow every insult and endure her bullying. After finally graduating, I'm ready to walk away from this family forever. But the real daughter stops me. She's fuming as she says, "I thought my online boyfriend was a rich guy with a Ferrari, but it turns out he's just a broke loser who rides a rental bike. "If he latches onto me, it'll be a stain on my reputation for life. You go meet him for me. Tell him you're the one he's been dating online." I look in the direction she's pointing and see the man she's talking about. A broke nobody? But the bank balance hovering over his head has ten digits! I swallow hard, my heart racing as I grab the real daughter's arm in excitement. "Quick, tell me everything about your online relationship. I'll go meet him right now!"

Stanley Porter, my wife Jessica Evans’ close male friend, and I are both competing to be the next fire captain. In my first lifetime, I was chosen by a unanimous vote. On my very first night on duty as captain, Jessica came over to the fire station to celebrate with me. Sticking to my duties as captain, I didn't touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, after drinking the chicken soup Jessica gave me, I fell into a deep sleep. That night, a massive fire broke out in the old district, resulting in the deaths of 58 people. Because I missed the station's alarm, I was accused of dereliction of duty and labeled as the main person responsible for the tragedy. The enraged families of the victims ended up beating me to death. In my second lifetime, I withdrew my name from the selection for captain. I handed the badge over to Stanley instead, saying, "You're better suited to be captain than I am." I'd assumed that this was enough to ensure that the fire couldn't be pinned on me. Yet, when the authorities looked into the fire, they ended up seeing me appear in the security footage from where the fire began. Everyone assumed I'd deliberately started the fire to get back at Stanley out of jealousy for losing out on the captain position. I now open my eyes again to live my third life. I watch as Stanley excitedly gives his speech on the podium after being made the captain. This time around, I submit a request for annual leave and take a cab straight to the airport.

After my roommate Cecelia Turner stepped out, the tablet she had left on the table suddenly lit up. I glanced at it absentmindedly and saw the group chat name—Free Riders Club. 'Celebrating this month's huge payday!' Several cash drops flooded the chat in quick succession. My interest was piqued. So, I tapped in to take a look. Besides Cecelia, the group included our landlord and the other two roommates. 'Thanks, Cece! We couldn't have saved up so much money if you hadn't come up with the idea of overcharging Ziegler on the rent!' 'Exactly! Honestly, having Madison as a free live-in maid means we even save on housekeeping and takeout!' The chat was filled with laughter as everyone chimed in to thank me for my "free services." Although they were thanking me, I was the only one who wasn't included in that group chat.

My daughter and my husband didn't look alike at all. My father-in-law always complained about it, accusing me of cheating. In the end, he even took my daughter to get a paternity test done. As expected, they were not blood related. My father-in-law told his son to divorce me and not to give me anything. My husband even wanted to kill my daughter by choking her. "I've been raising another man's daughter all this while! I'll be humiliated as long as she's alive!" I immediately threw the paternity test report involving my husband and my father-in-law at them. This time, it's my mother-in-law that was nervous as I looked them in the eyes and said, "Why don't you take a good look and see who is the one who is not blood related!"

I worked at a sales job and felt pretty good about my work. Then, Vivian appeared. She was a new intern with an insatiable curiosity for others’ private affairs. On Valentine’s Day, my husband, Henry Ambrose, bought a million dollars’ worth of bags from me to help me meet my sales target. Just as I left work to meet him for a date, Vivian sent a snide message. [Your Fitbit just logged an extra thousand steps. That’s literally the exact distance to the hotel next door. Nice work, Lily! You close a million-dollar deal and immediately head to the hotel with the client?] I coldly fired back, [If you’re this desperate to stalk people, you should’ve just joined the K-9 unit.] That very night, parcels of adult toys appeared on my doorstep. Vivian had written a nasty post that had gone viral, and things turned out like this! [This Salesgirl Slept With My Client and Stole My Million-Dollar Commission on Valentine’s Day!] A pair of my ripped silk stockings, which I had tossed in the trash, became her “proof” that I had seduced a client during work hours. Vivian was painted as the victim, while I was viciously smeared as a “salesgirl who slept with clients for commissions.” What Vivian did not know was that Henry was actually a leading researcher worth billions. I only took the sales job because I was bored and wanted to experience something new.

The night of our mating ceremony, my destined Alpha, Alex, basically tossed a three-year temporary mate bond agreement at me. He said he only had eyes for one wolf girl, Lily, an Omega. He told me he’d wait until the day he was in charge of the pack, then he’d personally cut our mate bond. Lily would be his one and only. That was until Lily had a huge fight with him and just up and vanished. Alex, after too many nights drowning his sorrows, accidentally marked me. It seemed like he was finally starting to get that I was his real mate. He even started willingly holding me as we fell asleep. Just when I thought Alex had totally accepted me, Lily came back. To save Lily’s mom, Alex didn’t think twice about giving up his own precious life force. To make Lily happy, he publicly shamed me at the Moon Festival, even snatching the only moonstone bracelet my grandma had left me. Lily smashed the bracelet, and my heart broke right along with it. On our third bonding anniversary, Alex booked my favorite restaurant, wanting to say sorry. But what he didn't know was that I’d already broken our mate bond. I wasn't going back.

When I was 18 years old, I stepped between Eric Ludlow and a silver arrow loosed by another contender so I could help him win the Alpha Trials. The silver sank deep into my wolf. Ever since then, I've lived as a broken werewolf without a mind-link and unable to conceive. Drowning in guilt, Eric decided to mark me. He pulled me close and vowed, "I'll love you for the rest of my life, Evelyn. I'll never see you as less." I really did believe him back then. At 25, he wins the pack war again and emerges as the strongest Alpha. But he turns our mate bond into a joke. At the celebration dinner, during a thoughtless game of Truth or Dare with his secretary, Mia Sadler, he speaks across the mind-link to everyone. "Evelyn, you're painfully dull. You're not the least bit appealing, your scent is thin, and you can't even bear a pup. You're just dead weight. I wish you'd never been saved back then. I wish you'd died." I clutch the medical report that says my wolf is about to be gone for good, staying silent. He assumes I can't hear anything since I don't have a mind-link. I beg the pack healer for a brutal, life-draining potion, just to know what a mate bond with him feels like. It's fine. I'll be dead soon, just the way Eric wants.

At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore. His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot. "Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her." The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy. Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake. Days later, he finally remembers I exist. "As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport." I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer. I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.