Short Stories & Novels

My fiancée was infamous in Culberra for being a heartbreaker. She had countless ex-boyfriends, and only stopped fooling around once she started dating me. However, we had only just planned to get married when her first love returned from overseas. Everyone mocked me, saying that I was a fool for thinking that I'd be any special. Unbeknownst to them, however, I'd long since gotten sick of playing the part of a lovesick idiot.

Lindsey Johnson asks her fiance's true love, Stephanie Sullivan, to repay her debt. The next day, Jacob Whitaker throws at her a ledger that she had never seen before. Every single expense from their five-year relationship is recorded inside. From small things like two-dollar ice cream to the expensive items like the luxury bags he gave her. Even the costs of hotel stays and condoms are recorded in the ledger. "I'll split half the hotel bills with you. After deducting the 100 grand Stephie owes you, you still owe me 2.08 million. You have one month to transfer the month to my account."

Deep in the night, I saw my son, Carl Turner, drinking a bottle of milky white liquid. I was shocked by the discovery. Our next door neighbor was a pregnant lady, and to top it off, she was the mother of Carl's collegemate. Right after that, he whipped out his phone and played a questionable video, all the while working his other hand under the sheets. In the video was none other than the intimate moments he shared with that pregnant lady! I felt an itch in my heart as I thought of the pregnant lady's daughter, who had just reached legal age. The supple body of a young woman and those alluring curves in all the right places… Since she took advantage of my son, then she had no one to blame for me taking her daughter.

I heard a corpse speak to me in the police department's autopsy room on my first day of internship. It all began when my supervising pathologist flipped through the autopsy report and remarked flatly, "Classic suicide. Close the case." The captain of the homicide unit nodded without a word. Beyond the doors, the victim's mother had fallen to her knees as she sobbed in despair, nearly fainting from grief. I was the only one who heard the woman's raspy voice saying in protest, "I didn't kill myself." The hemostatic forceps slipped from my hand and clattered into the metal tray. Everyone turned to look at me. My supervising pathologist frowned at me in displeasure. "Summer, I know you're an intern, but you can't even keep your composure?" I stared at the corpse's pale, bluish face. The next second, I heard her speak once more, "The killer is in this autopsy room." The air in my lungs froze. Then, my eyes slowly settled on my supervising pathologist's bloodstained hands.

Three years ago, I fled my old pack and hid among humans at Westridge University. As graduation approached, Damian Blackwood—the man I had secretly loved for three years—suddenly confessed his feelings to me. He told me he was a wolf. He promised that as soon as we graduated, he would take me back to his pack and make me the most honored Luna. I was overjoyed. We spent the entire night together, wild and desperate. The next day, Damian pulled me into his arms in front of everyone and announced that we were together. I sat on his lap, blushing, certain that I was the luckiest woman alive. I was ready to tell them my true identity. But then they suddenly switched to the Old Tongue. "How did the bookworm taste?" Damian answered casually. "She acts innocent on the surface, but in bed? An absolute whore." Laughter erupted around us. "So are you actually going to mark a… human?" Damian frowned. "No. My size—no wolf woman could take me. I was worried that Juliette, being human herself, might think I'm too rough. So I used Aurora for practice." "Don't let Juliette know that Aurora and I slept together. I don't want her to be upset." What Damian didn't know was that I am the Alpha King's only daughter. And I understood every word of the Old Tongue. I said nothing. But when I returned home, I secretly contacted my father, the Alpha King, and agreed to return to the North and inherit the throne.

When my sister and I were born, a prophet foretold that my sister would fall into a deep depression because I was more gifted than she was. On the day of the Fire Dragon Clan's Trial, she would throw herself into the frozen lake and never resurface. To protect her, my parents locked me in the freezing chamber on the day of the Trial. I knelt and begged them until my knees bled. My mother shoved me inside and sealed the door from the outside with a barrier. "You know your sister will die because of you, and you still insist on taking the Trial? How is that anything but trying to get her killed?" The chamber had already dropped to a hundred and twelve degrees below zero, yet I was wearing nothing but a short-sleeved shirt. I threw myself against the barrier, desperate to break out. "Mother, it's freezing in here! Please let me out!" "You're a fire dragon. A little cold can't hurt you. Who are you trying to fool?" My mother's voice was edged with impatience. "The barrier blocks your magic, but we didn't even turn on the refrigeration system. Your sister will be safe soon. Can't you think of her for once?" The sound of their wingbeats faded. My scales cracked from the cold, and blood dripped onto the floor. The barrier had sealed away my magic, and the chill quickly sank deep into my bones. I knelt on the floor as my body stiffened, inch by inch.

I spent eight years helping my fiancé Kieran, a ordinary warrior, win the Alpha position of Shadowmoon Pack. But just after he became the Alpha.， he announced to the entire pack that his Omega secretary, Ivy, had contributed the most to the pack's territorial expansion. Ivy posted a video of me hugging other Alphas at the hotel entrance., accusing me of being a slut and not being worthy of being Luna. Kieran announced that I would be expelled from the pack. They didn't know that I was the daughter of the Alpha King, and the man I hugged was my biological father. When I really left, the powerful Alpha and the entire pack knelt down and begged for my forgiveness.

When my body is sealed behind a wall, he's busy celebrating his true love's birthday. Everyone says Jayden Stone and I are a match made in heaven, but he hates me to the bone. When news of my death reaches him, he kicks over my corpse with a sneer. "Officer Austen, your revenge is complete…" Later, someone finally tells him that I was the one who saved his life. He shows up at my grave, his eyes swollen from crying. He begs like a madman for me to come back...

When I was at my absolute poorest, I got sucked into some kind of survival game. The challenge was to survive 7 days on just 50 dollars, and the winner would walk away with a million dollars. As someone who might as well be certified as a professional at being broke, I knew exactly how to survive on next to nothing. That prize money had my name written all over it.

There's an old superstition in our town. When a family has twins, one child is punished so the other learns from their mistakes. That is how you keep them in line and make sure they grow up safe. I am born four minutes before my sister, Jewel Skinner, so I become the one who pays for her wrongdoings. When Jewel sneaks off to swim in the river, Mom doesn't yell at her once. Instead, she holds my head down and forces it underwater repeatedly. Mom doesn't let go until Jewel is crying and screaming, "I'll never go swimming there again!" Once, Jewel forgets to cook the pasta. When Mom gets home from work, the package is still sitting on the counter. So Mom puts two bowls of uncooked pasta in front of me and says, "Eat it all. Don't leave a single piece." The dry pasta cut the inside of my mouth until it bleeds. Mom watches Jewel's reaction the whole time. She doesn't take the bowls away until Jewel starts crying. For 16 years, I am the one who pays for Jewel's mistakes. Then, that year, a hurricane heads straight for us. The evacuation orders come that night, and the whole town is told to leave. Jewel stays out with her friends until the middle of the night. When she finally comes home, she is soaked through and still laughing. Mom shoves her into one of the evacuation vehicles. Then she turns to me and says calmly, "You stay here. Once the hurricane passes, Jewel will know better than to come home late again." Everyone in town is gone, and roof tiles begin flying off one after another. Mom, you always make me suffer so Jewel learns her lesson. This time, I really am going to die. Are you satisfied now?

At midnight, Marvin Cooper throws a confession form at my face. The sharp edge of the paper cuts the corner of my eye, and bright red blood begins to seep out. He barks, "Alyssa hit someone with her car. You have a similar build to her. Go to the police station and take the blame." His tone leaves no room for argument, as if he is casually asking me to make him a late-night snack. His first love, Alyssa Evans, hides behind him and tugs pitifully at his sleeve. "But Marvin, if Ms. Huston goes to jail, who's going to make the nourishing soup for you?" Marvin lets out a disdainful snort and looks at me with contempt. "She's just a piece of trash from an orphanage. She should be honored to take the blame for you. Without me, she wouldn't even be able to feed herself. Other than obeying me, what choice does she have?" I wipe the blood from the corner of my eye and look at the man for whom I have spent three years as an unpaid housekeeper and a living blood bank. To treat his stomach condition, I burn my hands countless times cooking for him. I become so anemic that I easily collapse because I've been donating my blood to Alyssa. Marvin is certain that I love him with all my heart, and that I can only cling to him for the rest of my life. I don't cry. I simply take off the cheap apron I'm wearing and say, "You don't need to throw me out. I'll leave on my own." Taking out my phone, I dial a number I have blocked for three years. "I've had my fun. Send a helicopter to pick me up tomorrow. It's time for me to go home and take over the family business."

I was the most renowned OB-GYN in the state, with ten consecutive years of deliveries and not a single complication to my name. That changed the day I was accused of a surgical error that killed a mother and her unborn child. However, by the time I arrived, the patient was already dead. With witnesses, physical evidence and surveillance footage all stacked against me, I had no way to defend myself. Overnight, my name was ruined and I was sentenced to death. The harassment drove my parents to throw themselves off a building. Then I opened my eyes and found myself back behind the wheel, driving toward the hospital. Up ahead, a traffic officer was directing cars away from the intersection. I gritted my teeth and slammed my arm into the steering wheel. A sharp crack echoed through the car. I felt it in my right arm immediately. It was broken. I would rather break my own bones than wait around to die. One hand was a small price to pay for a chance at survival.

My mother is gravely ill and needs a million dollars for surgery. I run all over the city, desperately trying to borrow the money. Just when I'm at my breaking point, my childhood friend shows up, holding a check for one million dollars. His condition? He wants to marry me. Everyone's waiting for me to say yes, but I calmly refuse. Because in my last life, even after I married him, my mother still died. Her surgery failed. Later, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and a doctor. "Christopher, you sabotaged the surgery just to transplant Alice's mom's kidney into Jennifer? Was it worth it? If Alice finds out, you’re done." "I just want Jennifer to live. And honestly, marrying someone like Alice? My life is already over." That's when I realize our entire marriage was nothing but a carefully woven lie. He did it all for the woman he truly loved.

On the night of our anniversary, I had prepared a new set of lingerie for my Mafia husband Joey, but he had prepared divorce papers for me instead. A Cuban cigar was clamped between his teeth, a look of pure entitlement on his face. "Adriana, we need to divorce. Vivian's father is a capo. If I marry her, my future's set." "Look, sweetheart, you're just a broken family's leftover daughter. You should be grateful I kept you around this long." "Once I have the family ring, maybe I'll throw you a few scraps, let you be my little side piece." Everyone expected the daughter of a fallen family to step aside for his ambition, to be the loyal dog I'd been for the past seven years. But that night, I made a deal with the devil. I accepted a match arranged by my family and married the true king of New York's underworld. I vanished from Joey's world completely. Three years later, I returned to New York on my husband's arm. We were there on family business. Dante was called away for something urgent, leaving me to wait for him at his private club. I never expected to run into Joey, the man I hadn't seen in three years. "That's enough, Adriana. Stop with the childish tantrums." "Our son Angelo's almost six. He needs care. I'm being generous, offering you a position as his nanny." I laughed. What was this idiot talking about? He was calling the most feared and revered Donna in all of New York a nanny?

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

My 20-year-old daughter was obese. She started gaining weight in middle school, and now she weighed 200 pounds. I worried about her health, so I prepared nutritious meals for her and encouraged her to exercise every day, but she didn't take the problem seriously. "I was born weighing 7 pounds. It's your fault for making me so fat when I was in your womb." For eight years, every time I urged her to lose weight, that was her reply. Just as I was losing hope and considering giving up, I received a FaceTime call from my daughter 10 years in the future. "Mom! Please help me one more time!" My daughter cried on the phone. "I now weigh 500 pounds. I can't even leave home, and I struggle to breathe every day. I feel so miserable!" My heart softened, and I spent $30,000 to send my daughter to a weight loss camp. However, in the camp, my daughter indulged herself and even started a food vlogging channel. "Eat as much as you want, drink as much as you want. Don't take life so seriously. We only have about 80 years to live, so enjoy your food!" I was completely disappointed and chose to respect her decision. My daughter from ten years later cried hysterically on the phone. "The doctor said I don't have long to live! Please stop feeding me!" But this time, the FaceTime call was made to my daughter's phone.

Moments after leading his team to win the Cup, my superstar hockey boyfriend, Grayson, announced an indefinite leave of absence on live TV. Twitter exploded instantly. The team's group chat was in absolute chaos. The captain sent a dozen furious voice memos, chewing Grayson out for treating the team's blood, sweat, and tears like a cheap joke just for some girl. Yet, in stark contrast to his teammates' blinding rage, Grayson's private PR team chat was celebrating. "Let's see how Blair, his glorified babysitter, cleans up this mess." "She spent ten years busting her ass for his career, and Grayson just drops it all for Cici. True devotion." A new junior assistant chimed in quietly: "But if he quits, don't we lose our jobs? I heard the captain just smashed a locker in rage..." Grayson's childhood friend and personal trainer sent a smirking emoji: "You're new. Blair is a top agent who's willingly played our nanny for a decade. No matter what Grayson does, she bails him out. She'll just go groveling to the sponsors and vets as usual." "Bet Blair is smashing her phone in a rage right now, hahaha." Amidst the rapid-fire texts, a voice memo suddenly popped up. It was Grayson's lazy, breathless voice. There was the sound of a party in the background: "Shut up, all of you. I'm busy. You guys are too loud." The group got even more riled up and started to egg Grayson on. "Cici adores you. Just kick Blair and her controlling vibe to the curb. She's thirty now anyway. Probably going deaf and blind in her old age." The chat erupted in laughter. I stared blankly at the screen. I logged directly into the agency's official Twitter account, typed up a statement, and hit send. "Our agency respects Grayson's decision to take an indefinite leave of absence. " "To compensate our brand partners, we are opening a dedicated refund portal today. We will unconditionally refund all prepaid endorsement and cancellation fees incurred during his leave."

I go to my boyfriend after hearing about him flirting with his college senior. On the way there, I get into an accident and suffer from temporary memory loss after a head injury. He hurries to the hospital but points at his stoic dormmate and claims he's my boyfriend instead. He wants to use this to get rid of me. I'm unaware of this, so I hold the handsome dormmate's hand and look at him with bright eyes. "So, you're my boyfriend." Later, I regain my memory but still want to be with the handsome dormmate. I want to sever ties with my boyfriend, but he breaks down.

I have spent ten years fighting against the fake heiress, Cynthia Powell, to secure the Powell family's inheritance. Eventually, we both set our sights on the eldest son of the wealthy Wright family, Robin Wright. In my first life, I secure the marriage, but on the very night the shares are transferred to my name, I die a gruesome death. Blood seeps from my eyes and mouth as I collapse. As I lie there dying, Robin calmly wipes the poisonous powder from his fingertips and smiles at me. "My apologies, Kathy Powell. You have to die for the sake of the woman I truly love." I repeatedly curse Cynthia in my heart. In my second life, I am determined to avoid being murdered by Cynthia and her lover. So, I pass the marriage opportunity over to Cynthia. On their wedding day, I'm relaxing at home with a face mask when the police burst through my door and handcuff me. "Cynthia's car was firebombed on the way to the wedding ceremony, and she was burned to a crisp. We found your fingerprints on the fuel tank. You're under arrest for arson and murder. Please come with us," the police orders. The news shocks me. I'm sentenced to death, all thanks to Robin's manipulation. When I wake up, I'm in my third life. After seeing the Wright family's marriage proposal on the table, Cynthia and I take a step back. A chill runs down both our spines. Robin is a curse. How is it that whoever marries him ends up dead?

After twenty years of knowing and loving my destined mate, Alpha Martin, we were finally about to get married. On the eve of the wedding, He skillfully picked out the lipstick shade I wanted from my makeup bag. That's when I knew: Alpha Martin had someone else. That girl was wearing the custom evening gown I'd prepared for the wedding banquet, clinking glasses with Alpha Martin in a mate's toast. Our friends surrounded her, respectfully calling her "Luna." I didn't cause a scene. Instead, I called the hospital. "Dr. Fabian, please dispose of the eggs I had frozen." Then I sent a message to that girl. "Yvonne Jimenez, would you like to marry Martin Daniels in my place?"