Short Stories & Novels

She used to be nothing but a bar girl. At a time where anyone could boss her around and take advantage of her, Bennett Spencer spent a fortune to make her his kept woman. Now, however, she's become the Jensen family's heiress and is engaged to the scion of the Gibson family. She's one step away from becoming the lady of an affluent family. The night before her wedding, Bennett shows up and has his way with her in every corner of her home, forcing her to remember the passion and lust they shared in the past. "I'm the only one who can make you do away with your chastity." His words make her descend into the throes of passion again.

I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life. Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home." In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve. Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth. However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!" "You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life." Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.

"Miss Hudson, we have prepared a corpse identical to you, just as you requested. It will be delivered to your wedding with Mr. Warhol in ten days." Hearing the voice on the other end of the line, Violet Hudson felt a small knot of tension unwind inside her. "Alright. Thank you." "You're welcome. This is our job. Please rest assured—no one will ever suspect a thing." With that guarantee, she exhaled, the weight on her chest easing just a little. After confirming the final details once more, she ended the call and pushed open the door to the private room. The noise inside had been a constant hum, a mix of voices overlapping, but the moment she stepped in, silence fell like a curtain.

In my past life, my boyfriend Jared Xanderson's childhood sweetheart, Cindy Smith, pretends to be a rich heiress and fools around recklessly. When I expose her lies, she snaps and rams her car straight into me. As I lie on the brink of death, Jared's older brother, Mark Xanderson, gets down on his knees and begs him to save me. But Jared doesn't even flinch. "That's impossible. Cindy's of noble status—why would she dirty her hands over a nobody like her? Just because she's dating me doesn't mean she can climb above her station. She needs to remember her place." Mark kneels and pleads for three days and three nights, but it's useless. In the end, he's beaten to death by thugs Cindy sends after him. Even as my heart stops beating, Jared is still defending Cindy. He covers up the evidence and refuses to believe she killed someone, even as she destroys his own brother. Now, reborn, I don't waste time begging Jared to visit me. This time, I call my brother, Eric Spencer, first. "Eric, there's a woman out there impersonating me and running wild. Handle it. Also, about the Xanderson family engagement—I'm switching grooms from Jared to his brother, Mark." Over the years, I've poured massive resources into the Xanderson family, but it seems I've only raised a pack of ungrateful snakes. Now I want to see how long Jared and his precious Cindy can stay on their high horse without me!

I’m the Chief Counsel for Donatello Vexille, the Godfather of the Vexille family. I’m also his secret wife. At night, he’d pull me close, take me with a ragged violence, leaving his marks on me, a brutal claim I couldn’t refuse. But by day, I was just his lawyer. All he had for me were cold commands. We lived like that for three years. I decided I was done. But he couldn’t know. When I handed him the divorce papers, disguised as a bill of lading, and he signed his name, a breath I didn’t know I was holding finally escaped me. I chased him for seven years and was married to him for three. Whatever was left of my heart finally flatlined. I knew I could never have his. Because it already belonged to someone else: Angelina, his underboss’s sister. He remembered her favorite restaurant. He got blind drunk with joy when she filed for divorce. He even posted his personal guards outside her door. Those were honors I never had. So I tricked him into signing the papers, packed my things, and vanished. What I didn't expect was what he did after I left. He put a king's ransom on my location, and even announced to the whole world that I was his wife.

The day after I got engaged to my boyfriend, his best friend locked me up. He smiled as he unbuttoned his shirt, stepping closer with each passing moment. "Mich, I'm your true destiny," he said, his voice low and menacing. As I struggled to resist, I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs. When I woke up, all my memories were gone. The handsome stranger standing before me noticed my confusion and kindly offered an explanation. "You're my fiancée, but you cheated on me," he said.

After eight years and countless pregnancy tests, I was finally pregnant. Zachary loved me to his core. With or without a child, his devotion never wavered—if anything, it only grew stronger. He was over the moon, practically bouncing off the walls, promising me the world and everything in it. His parents were relieved that the Williams family legacy would finally have an heir. They completely changed their tune, suddenly treating me like I was made of gold. But I had no plans to keep this baby.

When Peter, my father-in-law, suffered a heart attack and needed an urgent transplant, the hospital miraculously had a compatible heart. Helen, my mother-in-law and I were overjoyed. We thought it was a blessing from above. However, just as we were getting ready for surgery, Nate, my husband, disappeared with the compatible heart. When we finally reached him by phone, it was Camile, his first love. “Nate is busy prepping for my dad’s heart surgery. Stop distracting him!” Helen was trembling with fury. On her way to confront Nate, she got into a car accident and ended up in a critical condition. I begged Nate to come back and operate on her, but he walked into another operating room. In the end, my in-laws died. Their bodies were donated for organ transplant. It was not until later that I found out that their organs had been donated to Camile’s family.

On the day my mate's dying first love went into labor, his parents posted ten warriors at my door. They did it only to stop me from storming the delivery room and ruining the birth of Alpha Kaelen's heir. However, I never showed up, not even after the cries of a newborn filled the air. His mother, the former Luna, held the other she-wolf's hand with a sigh of relief. "Liana, with us here, that barren Elara will never harm you or the pup!" Kaelen dabbed the sweat from Liana's brow, his eyes filled with adoration. "Don't worry, my father has men guarding the pack borders. If Elara dares to cause trouble, we will exile her forever!" He finally relaxed when he was sure I wasn't coming. He couldn't understand. All he wanted was to give his dying first love a child, a legacy. Why couldn't I be more understanding? Looking at the sleeping pup, a satisfied smile crossed his face. He thought that if I would just show up and apologize to Liana, he would forgive all our previous fights. He'd even be willing to comfort me after the birth, maybe even let me be the pup's mother in name, so I could keep my title as Luna. But he didn't know. I had just submitted my application to the High Council. In one week, I would relinquish my pack status, leave with the babies in my belly, and never see him again.

My husband, Finn Dawson, and I get into a car crash on our way home for the holidays. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before Finn and I started dating. In my past life, we were married for seven years. We got along well enough, yet he refused to give me a child. Only later did I find out it was because he was still hung up on his true love. Now that I've been reborn, I decide to give him what he wants. He and I delete each other's numbers and keep our distance. We choose wholly different paths in this life. Seven years later, Finn becomes one of the world's best traders. He and his true love, Yvonne Gray, make things official during a class reunion. When he sees that I'm alone, he can't help but mock me. "I know I'm the one you love most, despite living two lives, Sylvia. You don't have to keep waiting around for me, though." I ignore him and hold my son's hand. The blood drains from Finn's face when he sees this, and his eyes turn bloodshot. He snarls, "Didn't you say you would love me forever? Didn't you say you would only have my children?"

After four years of marriage, I decide to get a divorce. Why? Because my wife doesn't love me. She loves her childhood sweetheart. I disappear after leaving behind a divorce agreement—I give her my blessings in her search for true love. But after I'm gone, she searches the world for me like she's lost her mind.

I'm due for a promotion when I stumble upon my husband entangled with his childhood sweetheart. After that, I'm secretly admitted to a psychiatric facility. I repeatedly tell the doctors that I'm fine, but all I get is worse abuse and humiliation. When Howard Armstrong visits me every month, I beg him to get me out. Each time, he says, "This is a proper establishment, so you have to follow the doctor's instructions. Don't be unreasonable!" On the day I'm discharged, he speaks to me tenderly and calls me his honey. Later, when I place a divorce agreement before him, he breaks down in tears.

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.

After recovering from breast cancer, my fiancé started making excuses to stay out all night. On my birthday, I finally tracked him down on a yacht where he was joking with his friends. "I figured once she died, the engagement would be off the table. Who knew she'd be so hard to die.” "But I've got a brilliant plan—I'll fake my death at the wedding. We can livestream it and watch how this woman who worships me to the core breaks down in tears." I couldn't help but smile to myself. If Travis Luther could play dead, so could I. In the end, he was the one who broke down sobbing, begging me not to walk away.

When I was five months pregnant, I was kidnapped by a group of thugs. They used my phone to call my brother, Jeremy Wirkola, and my husband, Grant Sanders, to demand a ransom of ten million, but no one answered. I was tortured and assaulted until I was barely alive. When I was finally rescued, Jeremy cried and promised to avenge me. Grant was in tears too. He vowed to get me treated. However, while under the haze of anesthesia, I overheard Grant's cold voice outside the door. “Jessie is waiting for a bone marrow, but don’t forget to remove Ashlyn’s uterus. Just tell her the injuries were too severe to save it. Oh, and get the best surgeon for her. She’s afraid of pain.” His assistant hesitated. He was clearly uncomfortable. “Mr. Sanders, isn’t this going too far?” Grant paused for a second before he replied firmly. “She refused to donate her bone marrow to Jessie and even used the baby as an excuse. She’s selfish. Besides, if we don’t do this, how can I bring back Jessie and our child into the family? As for Ashlyn, she’s my wife. I’ll make it up to her for the rest of my life. She used to bully Jessie with her status, which resulted in Jessie suffering from depression and almost killing herself. It’s time she paid the price for it.” As I listened to his heartless words, something inside me shattered completely. Since they had chosen to sacrifice me for Jessie, let them have what they wanted then.

It's my and my boyfriend's anniversary. I open the glovebox to hide a gift inside as a surprise, but a piece of familiar-looking lingerie falls out. It's torn in a spot; it looks like it went through a rough battle. Before I can process the situation, I crash into a car that suddenly switches lanes in front of me. Right before I black out, I remember where I saw the lingerie. It was a gift from me to my best friend.

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

When I was surrounded by the rogue pack far from our territory, I mind-linked my mate, Alpha Luke, begging for help. He refused me fifteen times—and finally, he blocked the link entirely. In the end, I collapsed from exhaustion and lost consciousness, my wolf howling in despair. When I woke up in the infirmary, Alex, the commander of the Werewolf Tribe, was sitting quietly beside me. He was the one who had received my desperate mind-link. He led his warriors, crushed the rogues, and saved me from the jaws of death. Looking into his worried eyes, I no longer hesitated. I took a deep breath and said with unwavering resolve: “Alex, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go to the Northern Territory for training. I leave in 2 days.” Ten minutes later, Luke barged into the room with Kristy—his so-called adoptive sister—and our twin pups trailing behind. Before anyone could speak, he kicked the door open and pointed at me, shouting with cold fury: “You staged this stunt just to outshine Kristy? Do you realize how much warrior strength you wasted just to feed your vanity? You are not worthy to be a Luna!” My elder son, Chris, gave me a sharp glance and scoffed: “Where’s the wound, Mom? You look perfectly fine. Did you fake this just to get attention?” My younger son, Collin, stared at me, eyes filled with disappointment. He shook his head slowly and whispered: “Mom, did you lie to us again… just because we care about Kristy more?” Kristy gripped Luke’s hand, her voice trembling with fake innocence and tears falling down her cheeks: “I’m sorry, Christina… I won’t celebrate my birthday again. Please… stop causing trouble for Luke and the twins.” I clenched my fists, restraining my furious wolf, and stopped Alex from standing up for me. I watched the four of them turn and leave without a second glance. Then, I turned to Alex and said, with icy clarity: “This time, I have no hesitation, no regret. I’m leaving. I’ll go with you to the Northern Territory. And I won’t eat my words.”

The day before my wedding, I went to our cathedral early to get familiar with the place. Instead, I found my fiancé and my stepsister, Isabella fucking on the altar. Our altar. I caught them. He didn't even apologize and just threw me out into the storm. I collapsed in the pouring rain. That’s when he found me. Alistair, the Vampire Prince. He moved like a god through the storm. He pulled me from the mud, and gave me a palace. He told the world I was his soulmate. The one he’d spent centuries searching for. His one and only. For five years, his devotion made me the envy of the supernatural world. I thought I was the one exception in his eternal life. Until I found his secret room. My fingers brushed against an ancient scroll. The script was written in blood. The first line was her name: Isabella. Beneath it, in Alistair's own hand: “Absolute priority. Above all else.” Underneath was a healer's log I’d never seen before. A vampire's healing log. The date was from the night I found out I was pregnant. The night I was attacked by werewolves. They brought me back to the castle, covered in blood. The healers never came for me. I woke up alone. The baby was gone. Our child. His blood, my blood—gone. And my clothes were soaked in what was left of it. I cleaned every trace of it. When he came home, I broke down in his arms. I never told him. I couldn’t bear for him to feel the pain I felt. Now I understood. That same night, Isabella was also being attacked by werewolves. And Alistair’s order to his council was: “Send every healer. Isabella is the priority.” My heart stopped. Despair was a poison in my veins. “If I was never the one... then you can keep your eternity. I want no part of it.”

On their third anniversary, Finley had all their friends over to celebrate. Claire walked in to find him on one knee, proposing to his childhood friend, Renee. "What is going on?" she asked. He shrugged like it was nothing. "It's just a game of truth or dare." But it wasn't until he shoved her down the stairs, causing her to miscarry, that she finally woke up. She'd given him five chances. Now? She was done. "Finley, it's over. Let's get divorced."