Short Stories & Novels

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, I must choose a fiancé from among the heirs of three great families. Everyone believes I will choose Dario Morandi—the man I have pursued for years. Instead, I pick up the photograph of his older brother, Cassiano Morandi. Cassiano is known as the lunatic who was kidnapped by enemies at the age of five and thrown into an underground fighting pit. He survived on his own for ten years before the Morandis brought him back. No one thinks he is worthy of me, the Vito family's Principessa. In my previous life, I choose Dario. On our wedding day, Lina Greco—the daughter of Papa's chauffeur—shows up in a white wedding dress with her pregnant belly on display, crying as she claims the child is Dario's. Enraged, I have her thrown out. But amid the chaos, she suffers a miscarriage. Dario smiles and goes through with the wedding. But in the third year of our marriage, he steals classified intelligence and hands it over to my famiglia's enemies. I die that very night. Now that I have a second chance at life, I decide to fulfill his wish and let him be with Lina. What I never expect is that he has been reborn as well.

After ten years of being mated, I discovered my aloof Alpha mate had been keeping a sunshine-like Omega lover. That Omega could bring warmth and light to everyone she meets. My Alpha mate, Dominic, who had spent his childhood in the doldrums, was easily attracted by that kind of pure warmth. That very night, I presented him with a mate bond severance agreement. Dominic sneered coldly as he tore up the agreement, throwing a psychiatric evaluation at me instead. "Sign this. Admit you have delusional disorder, and I'll send you to the best mental hospital to live out your days. I know all about your dirty little tricks. I won't give you any chance to hurt her." So, all these years… every little thing I’d done to protect him? To him, it was just despicable scheming. I refused to sign. Dominic had me bound and tortured with silver powder, watching coldly as I convulsed in agony. He even had our two five-year-old pups hung from the bow of massive ships about to collide. "Either sign, or watch them get crushed to pulp. Your call." I dropped to my knees on the deck, banging my head against the wood like a madwoman, begging him to let me sign. But it was too late—I watched helplessly as my pups' small bodies got torn apart by metal shrapnel. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I discovered he was keeping that girl. I decided never to love him again. But after I left him, Dominic suddenly went mad searching for me everywhere.

After seven years of marriage, my husband, Marcus Doakes, gave every bit of his tenderness to his divorced first love and her daughter. From then on, I began teaching my own daughter to call him "Mister." When my daughter had an asthma attack and her little face turned blue from lack of air, one phone call from his first love saying, "Jacey is scared of the dark," was enough to make him leave. I covered my daughter's eyes and told her to whisper, "Goodbye, Mr. Doakes" At the parent-child piano competition my daughter had been looking forward to for ages, his first love cried that Jacey had no father to accompany her and was too afraid to go onstage. He turned and left without hesitation. I swallowed the ache in my chest and told my daughter, who had lost her chance to perform, to thank "Mr. Doakes" for coming to watch. Every time, my daughter could only wipe her tears silently in my arms. Later, he seemed to finally realize how much he owed us. For once, he canceled his business banquet and offered to take us to the amusement park for the weekend. But right at the amusement park entrance, his first love called again. "Marcus, the children at the amusement park are laughing at Jacey because she doesn't have a dad. Can you come pick her up...?" When I saw the pity and hesitation flash across his face, he had just crouched down to explain to our daughter. This time, before I could say anything to remind her, my daughter let go of his hand on her own. With tears still shining in her smile, she stepped back obediently. "It's okay, Mr. Doakes. Go protect that little sister. "I have the cotton candy Mommy bought me. That's enough."

I was about to marry my boyfriend of seven years, Edward Carter. However, he was secretly getting a marriage certificate with his first love. In a moment of panic and disbelief, I confronted him: "Edward, what do I even mean to you?" Edward grabbed me as I tried to walk away, his eyes filled with helplessness: "Jennifer, you know Chloe is my first love. She only has two months left to live. I just don't want her to leave with regrets." "The woman who will be my last wife, though, is you." It was laughable. He felt sorry for his first love—did that mean I had to suffer? I saw the mocking look Chloe Smith shot my way. Then, to make things worse, Edward actually suggested I let Chloe take my place in the wedding. That was the last straw. After seven years of love, I did not want it anymore. I called my brother, "Hey, the wedding is in ten days. Can you find me a new groom?"

Mom always said I was dead to the world when I slept. I would suddenly doze off in the middle of class, while eating, even halfway across the street. My homeroom teacher suggested I get checked at a hospital, but Mom brushed it off with a scoff. "She just stayed up all night on her phone!" After that, my phone was confiscated, the lock on my door was removed, and every time I showed the slightest sign of drowsiness, I got slapped awake. I did not want to be hit, and I did not want Mom to get angry, so I started pinching my thighs, yanking my hair, even downing medicated oil just to stay awake. But when that wave of sleep hit, nothing could stop it. On the day of the final exam, Mom happened to be assigned as one of the proctors. I bit through my lip, silently begging myself, 'Just this once. Just hold on.' But in the end, I still couldn't fight it. The desk was suddenly flipped over. I went down with my chair, crashing hard onto the floor. My head struck the edge of the desk, and darkness swallowed everything in an instant. Mom stood beside me, furious and disappointed. "Cecelia Thorne, are you really so obsessed with sleeping that you don't even care about your final exams? If you're that lazy, then lie there and keep sleeping!" I lay sprawled over my exam paper, my vision dimming bit by bit. Mom, this time, I might really sleep for a long, long time.

On the day of his funeral, I discovered that my fiance, Zachary Gray, had come back to life. His friend says teasingly, "You sure know how to stage an act, Zachary. Your fiancee cried so much over your fake death that she almost went blind!" Zachary smiles indifferently and says, "Stepping into marriage is like taking one foot into the grave. Of course, I have to have some fun first." I stand in the shadows and watch him bend down to kiss another woman. He then points at the tombstone I had carefully and painstakingly carved for him, laughing until he can't catch his breath. Watching him, I feel like an utter fool. I take out my phone and call my father. "Dad, since Zachary is dead, our engagement is null. Let's pull out of the collaboration with the Gray family's company."

When the fire trapped me, my Alpha mate, Graeme Blackwood, was throwing a birthday party for my little sister, Ayana. I was locked in the basement, trembling so violently my bones clattered against each other. When the flames first caught, I called him. Begged him. His voice was ice. "Evelyn, stop the act. It's Ayana's birthday. I'm not letting you out just so you can ruin it. Let her have her night. Once she's happy, I'll let you out." I tried to explain. With the last shred of strength I had, I called him again. He hung up on me. So I just watched. Watched the flames swallow everything.

I'm invited to a wedding thrown by the wealthy Gardners on Labor's Day. But the groom, Daniel Pearce, treats me like an imaginary love rival just because I've complimented the bride, Isabelle Gardner, on her looks. He publicly mocks me for wearing fake brands just to satisfy my vanity and calls me a beggar who's here for free food. On top of that, he also strongly hints that I intend to steal Isabelle from him because I prefer younger women. To make things worse, Daniel even ignores my warnings and commands the groomsmen to corner me in the washroom, where he breaks one of my ribs by force. "Who the hell do you think you are for seducing my wife? Boys, stuff everything you can find in the trash can into his mouth! Let's see if he still can go on yapping with this rotten mouth of his!" The pain and agony is far too much for me to handle. I almost pass out several times in-between the torments. But what Daniel doesn't know is that I'm the Gardners' financial backer when it comes to their business!

After the car accident, one of the Laurent heiresses has died, while the other lives. The moment my religious wife, Amelia Laurent, opens her eyes in the hospital, she addresses me as her brother-in-law. Then, she claims that her older sister, Penelope Laurent's soul has possessed her body. I quickly get all the doctors and priests I can find, hoping to swap Penelope's soul out for Amelia's. That is, until I overhear Amelia's conversation with our daughter, Charlotte Robinson, at night. "Mom, you've had a crush on Uncle Samuel for so many years, and you've even gone into abstinence by staying in the monastery for years. Now, you can finally be with him in the open." Amelia pats Charlotte on the head. "If it wasn't for the need to prevent your father from ruining Samuel's relationship back then, I wouldn't have married your father in the first place." As I struggle to register the truth from the shadows, I witness what happens next after Charlotte leaves the ward. Amelia, who has always prided herself on her composure and restraint; who has practiced abstinence for seven long years for the sake of her religion, proceeds to be physically intimate with Samuel Bennett—a fresh widower—on the cramped hospital bed. The next day, I apply for Amelia's death certificate immediately before burning our marriage certificate. On the day Amelia throws a grand proposal banquet for Samuel, I board the helicopter that has flown over to pick me up. But strangely enough, Amelia tears through the streets while chasing after the helicopter.

On my sixth year of serving in a war zone, my request to return to headquarters was denied again. The reason was simple. Hospital policy didn't allow close family members to work in the same department. Since Natalie Hart and I were married, my return would be considered a conflict of interest. I refused to accept that. So, I quietly snuck back to Hartwell to demand an explanation. However, I heard a conversation that made me stop short right outside the administration office. "You've blocked Liam Hayes's transfer for five years all because of Noah Bennett," the department director snapped. "Liam ages out next year. This is his last chance to return." Natalie's face remained unreadable. "There's only one transfer slot this year. Noah gets it. Liam can go home and be a stay-at-home husband if he has to. Noah is different. He has ambition." The director slammed a hand on the desk. "And Liam doesn't? His dream was always to work at headquarters." His voice sharpened. "You were the one who had him sent to a war zone in the first place. Now you're blocking his only chance to come back. Noah barely passed his evaluations. He would've been removed years ago if you hadn't kept him under your wing. "Do you honestly think you can protect him forever?" For the first time, anger flashed across Natalie's face. "Liam went there as my husband. How much could he have suffered?" Her tone grew icy. "Noah has no connections. If he were sent out there, it would ruin him. I'll take responsibility for Noah's training. I won't let anyone harm him." Outside the door, my eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called my lawyer. "Draft the divorce papers. As fast as possible." I wasted five years all for a woman who had stopped loving me long ago. I no longer wanted to waste any more time on her. I no longer wanted to love her anymore.

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

After being reborn, the first thing I do is bind myself to a transfer system and agree to my mother's proposal that the whole family splits expenses equally. It is because in my previous life, after I refuse the transfer system, my mother throws a bill at me and demands repayment. The bill lists every expense from my childhood to adulthood. There are small things like the cost of an eraser or a pencil, as well as big ones like tuition and living costs. "The total cost of raising you is one million dollars. On top of that, the money your brother needs for his wedding, car, and house are all family matters. So, we will split them equally. Taking all those into account, you need to repay us three million dollars in total." So right after graduating, I fall into a massive debt of three million dollars. I do not finish paying it off until I am 38. Just when I try to break away from my family and look for my own happiness, my parents start a livestream and curse me for being a terrible daughter. They claim that I abandon them in our hometown while running off to a big city to chase my own freedom. As a result, I face overwhelming criticism online. I fall into depression for two years, and on my 40th birthday, I accidentally fall from a building after getting drunk. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the moment when the transfer system first appears. This time, I say firmly, "Bind me to the system."

I was a brilliant artist. But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years. Vincent promised he'd make me whole again. Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could. But my hand remained numb, useless. Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. "Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!" "But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good." "I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!" It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me. And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved. He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body. When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind. That night, I burned everything that bound me to him. Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime. "Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

One day, I get lost in the forest. Frozen out of my wits, I accidentally barge into the Bloodmoon pack. That's when Raul Wolfgrim, the Alpha King, stares at me, as though he's looking at the personification of a miracle. He claims that I'm his fated mate, and that he's spent years looking for me. From that day onward, Raul gives me everything he has. He gives me the spot next to him as well as the pride and glory of being the she-wolf who has power over the other wolves in the pack. Every look Raul gives me is filled with hot, passionate love. Every touch proclaims his possessiveness toward me. I used to think that I've finally found my actual home. Hence, I give up on looking for my name, my past, as well as my position in the world beyond the pack. Instead, I choose to stay next to Raul. But five years later, Raul brings back another she-wolf named Eva Grayback after surviving a battle at the border. As he stands before the pack with his hand intertwined with Eva's, he declares solemnly, "Eva is my actual fated mate." As for me? I'm nothing but a liar. While Eva is forced to suffer in life as a Rogue, I'm the one who have apparently taken up her slot in Raul's bed and shared countless nights of pleasure with him. That's why he must rectify this mistake. On the day before Raul and Eva hold their bonding ceremony, I'm tossed back into the forest. The beasts' fangs tear through my flesh, while wolfsbane burns in my blood like fire. When Raul finally dispatches a squad to look for me in the forest, everything is far too late. I've already remembered who I am and have awakened my hidden potential. That's when I decide to leave him with the unborn pup in my belly.

On the night I get dismembered, my girlfriend, Victoria Hewitt, announces her marriage to the world. Clad in the wedding dress that I've personally designed, she soon marries her first love, Joseph Danford, happily. When Victoria receives the news of my death, she merely smiles before claiming that I'm a pathological liar. But what she doesn't know is that I've died for her sake. Later on, Victoria constructs a sculpture out of my bones. She develops a habit of hugging it every day since then.

I spent five years pursuing Derick Tucker before we finally set a wedding date. But in the 100 days leading up to it, he was off partying all over the place, barely showing his face. The night before the wedding, he said he was going to a bachelor party and never came home. Instead, I got a message from a girl he knew from college. It was a photo of them in bed together. [Sorry. He went a little too hard last night. Don't expect much from him on your wedding night. [Oh, wait, I forgot. He doesn't even love you. Who knows if he'll even be able to perform? Looks like you can't even settle for my leftovers.] I held up the message and confronted Derick. He didn't even flinch. "She's not wrong. I'm not married until tomorrow. What's the problem with having some fun before that? "You're used goods yourself, and you expect me to stay pure for you? "If you can't handle it, then don't marry me. But can you really walk away?" After humiliating me, he stormed off, convinced I would swallow it like I always did. But this time, I was done. I picked up my phone. "What you said before, about taking responsibility. Does that still stand?"

I went into labor. And my mate, Alpha Alistair, locked me in a silver cage. The bars throbbed with curse runes, burning my skin. He did it for Livia. His dead brother's mate. Her pup had to be born first. That's when I learned the truth. He'd been poisoning me for months. All to make sure Livia's child would be the next Alpha. He called it "calming tea." A daily dose of poison to slow my pup's growth and delay my labor. But my body had other plans. My pup refused to wait. I went into labor at the same time as Livia. When he found out, he accused me of faking it. Of begging for sympathy. He let them poison me with wolfsbane. I lost my pup. A piece of my soul died with him. With my last breath, I reached out. To the one person who could save me. My brother, Alpha King Lucian. He came like a storm of rage. He burned the packhouse to the ground, with me inside. A phantom fire for all to see. Then, he plucked me from the flames. Only then, surrounded by the smoking ruins of his pack, did Alistair fall to his knees. His howl of regret tore through the night. For 99 days, he howled at the moon. Begging the Moon Goddess to return just a sliver of my soul.

On the night of our wedding, my gold-medal lawyer wife, Aurora Sterling, abandoned me and tangled herself with her assistant, Kieran Holt. Kieran barged into our bridal suite carrying his vegetative-state fiancee, Elara Holt, and demanded we swap spouses. I refused without hesitation. Right there on the spot, he drugged me and forcibly locked me in a room with Elara. Meanwhile, he held Aurora in our newlywed bed and used eighteen condoms that night. The next morning, I stormed into the office to confront him. Instead, I saw Aurora kneeling between his legs. When she noticed me, Kieran shuddered and quickly pulled away before standing up. "Rowan, Aurora didn’t get enough last night, so I brought her out for some fun again. Don’t worry. This will be the last time. I won’t disturb you two anymore." He turned to leave. However, Aurora stopped him reluctantly. "Kieran, you're not the one who should leave." Then she turned to me, her face dark with anger. "Elara became a vegetable because she saved my life. I have an obligation to fulfill a wife’s duties for her. "From now on, I’ll accompany Kieran on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The rest of the days I’ll stay with you. I’m even giving you an extra day, so you should be satisfied." As I watched the absurd scene unfold before me, rage finally exploded inside my chest. Just as I was about to erupt, my phone suddenly chimed. Ding. "Hey, handsome, your skills are pretty good. Interested in developing a long-term arrangement?"

In the twenty years I was bound to my host, this was the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time I had watched him argue with Vivian Hale. The meal he had carefully prepared was smashed all over the floor. His eyes were red as he nearly shouted at her. "Why do you choose him every single time? You divorced him, remember? I am your husband!" Vivian remained calm, as if she had known all along that my host would make a scene. "So what if we divorced? I have a child with him. I cannot just ignore him." That one careless sentence left my host sitting frozen in place for a long, long time. Long enough for the sky outside to go completely dark. There had been countless moments like this before, but he had always gritted his teeth and held on. I thought this time would be no different. Until my host suddenly asked me, "What happens if I abandon the mission?"

Jack Cooke—my husband, who'd never so much as scrambled an egg—suddenly went full kitchen freak. He bought a ton of pots and spatulas, then spent all day just... polishing them. When I called him out, he shrugged. "I like things clean. That a crime now?" Behind him? A mountain of dirty socks. Then it got weirder. He dragged all the kitchen stuff into our bedroom. At night, he'd get weird with a dishcloth. Like, disturbingly weird. I was done. I asked for a divorce. Jack stormed into a private dining room and shredded the papers right in front of our investors. "You're seriously ending our marriage over this? Kinda dramatic, don't you think?" I didn’t blink. “I gave up my spot for your pots and pans. A little thanks wouldn’t kill you.”