Short Stories & Novels

Bertrand Callum was a well-known lawyer in our circle and my fiancé. We had agreed to go on our honeymoon right after registering our marriage. But he broke that promise again and again. He took his secretary to every place I had dreamed of visiting. On my birthday, he brought her to Saltorlini, the place we had planned to go together. Later, he gave up our marriage registration just because she had sprained her ankle. Even when I was in a car accident and on the verge of death, he hung up on my call for help because of something she said. After I recovered, I went alone to Acreatic, a place I had always longed to see, and moved out of the home we once shared. A week after I left, Bertrand called to scold me. "Annie, you need to stop overreacting. Are you really going to divorce me over something so trivial?" I wanted to remind him that we had never actually registered our marriage. But ultimately, I shut up and said nothing. After all, there was nothing between us anymore.

After being reborn, I insisted on changing my arranged marriage partner from Connor Gregory to his younger uncle. My mother was shocked. She kept insisting that Connor’s younger uncle’s standards were far too high for him to ever take an interest in me. Besides, Connor and I had grown up together. I had always declared I would marry no one but him—so how could I suddenly choose someone else instead? What my mother didn’t know was that I had already died once. In my previous life, Connor did marry me, but we were only husband and wife in name. Three years into our marriage, I found out he had long since legally married my foster sister behind my back. When I confronted him, his response was: “You’re only fit to be a prop in this alliance. Rachel is my real wife.” So, in this life, I will never make the same mistake again.

I fell for Don Lorenzo Moretti the second I saw him. Hard. As a mafia princess, I wasn't supposed to chase anyone. But for him, I swallowed my pride and made him my mission. A year later, he finally had me, pinning me to the bed as he moved inside me. His eyes were pure fire, and in that mo ment, they saw only me. For ten years, we were electric. We fucked in five-star hotels all over the world. We just fit. I was his lucky charm at the poker table. I took shots for him until I bled from my stomach. I even took a bullet for him. Then came our engagement party. Lorenzo left me standing there alone. Said something "came up." I went back to our apartment, only to find him kissing my stepsister, Juliana. That’s when I knew. He had always loved her. I was just a stand-in. He tried to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked rush, promising a bigger, better party to make up for it. A laugh, cold and hollow, died in my throat. I turned my back on him, pulled out my phone, and called my mother in Sicily. "I'll marry into the Romano family."

My adopted sister, Selene Vale, and I were transported to the Beast Realm, where the Beast God allowed us to choose our fate. One path was to become a Warrior Female, blessed with powerful strength, sharp claws, and the ability to hunt and fight. The other was to become a Blessed Female, gifted with rare fertility, a beautiful human form, and a scent that naturally attracted the strongest males. In our last life, Selene was afraid she would not survive in this brutal world, so she chose the Warrior Female path. I became the Blessed Female. Selene was sent to the poorest clan in the north with three injured outcast males: a one-eyed wolf, a hawk with a broken wing, and a young feline shifter everyone believed was weak. Meanwhile, I was claimed by Theron, Darius, and Lucan, three of the strongest and most powerful males in the Beast Realm. Everyone envied me. Later, the three of them rose to rule the Beast Realm, and I was crowned Queen Consort at their side. Selene thought I had received everything she deserved. Consumed by jealousy, she dragged me into the poisonous Black Mist Swamp, determined to die with me. But she never knew the truth. The crown she envied was a cage. The three males who once worshipped me eventually locked me away, stripped me of my freedom, and treated my body as nothing more than a tool to produce powerful heirs. When I opened my eyes again, we were standing before the Beast God. We had both returned to the day we chose our fate. This time, Selene rushed forward first. “I choose to become a Blessed Female.” Then she turned to me with a victorious smile. “Sister, this time, the crown will belong to me.” “As for those three useless outcasts, you can have them.” She thought she had stolen my destiny. She had stolen my prison.

Studying abroad can be incredibly lonely at times. That night, I was in my room, indulging in a little treat for myself, when my best friend suddenly burst through the door. "Doing it yourself is no fun. Come on. There's a super cool cabaret show going on. Let's go see it together!" On stage, my friend was reclining in a chair behind the curtain, with two strong-looking men on top of her. "Come on. Join us for a group dance..."

My wife, Sandra Wren, had suggested taking our daughter, Annie, to a childcare center, saying that it would be better for our daughter. I didn't think much of it and handed her a card. I went on a business trip for half a month. Watching the daily charges on my card, I felt nothing but satisfaction. Until my best friend suddenly sent me a video. The location tag was at the childcare center. "Dude. Why is your wife staying after class for 'extra lessons'? Is it more exciting in the classroom?" In the video, Sandra's lace underwear hung around her ankles. The floor was littered with used condoms. The tables in the childcare classroom creaked noisily. I immediately called her. On the phone, I could faintly hear her suppressed yet excited breathing. She said, slightly panting, "Honey, I'm flying a kite with Annie. Did you miss us?" I let out a cold laugh. "Yes. I missed you so much, I came back overnight. Which classroom are you in? I'll bring you condoms."

On the day of my wedding, the video I had painstakingly prepared was suddenly replaced with intimate photos of my fiancé and my foster sister, Lindsey Remmington. Within minutes, it hit the top of the trending list. Overnight, I, a celebrated actress, became the abandoned bride of a wealthy family and a public laughingstock. Just when I thought I'd reached rock bottom, Connor Presley, the heir of Elluel City's most powerful family and the boy I'd grown up with, returned from abroad. In front of flashing cameras, he knelt with a diamond ring and proposed, silencing every rumor and every sneer. After we married, we appeared inseparable, our affection the picture of perfection. The only flaw was his infertility—his condition made it nearly impossible for me to conceive. For three long years, I underwent countless rounds of IVF. At last, I became pregnant. Connor was overjoyed. To celebrate, he threw an extravagant party in honor of our long-awaited child. But in the middle of the revelry, one of his closest friends, drunk and unguarded, muttered in Russian, "Connor, you've gone too far. Just because Lindsey was afraid pregnancy would ruin her figure, you put the zygote into Rachel's body and let her carry the baby for you two? If she ever finds out the truth, you'll regret it for the rest of your life." Connor's expression didn't waver. "This was Lindsey's only wish. I had to grant it," he replied coolly. "Besides, having a child with Lindsey has always been my dream. Only her child deserves to be the heir of the Presley family. The days ahead are long—I'll make it up to Rachel, eventually." I stood frozen, my body trembling uncontrollably. That night, I made an appointment for an abortion. When Connor stormed into the hospital, raging like a madman, I looked up at him with chilling calm and said, "I understand Russian."

After my year-end bonus came in, I immediately transferred 10,000 dollars to my husband to buy New Year’s gifts for both our parents. I even told him to get the very best, especially that case of whisky for my father. On New Year’s Eve, I rushed home to have dinner with my parents. However, at the table that night, Dad, who had always loved his drinks, was sipping tea instead. I was confused. “Dad, it’s the holidays. Why didn't you bring out the liquor?” I smiled as I rose to my feet to grab the case. “Kevin went out of his way to get this. I heard it tastes amazing.” “Don’t touch it!” Dad slammed his teacup against the floor. His face was flushed dark red. “Zeena, don’t send this stuff anymore. I know it’s not easy for you to make money in the city. But even if our Collins family is poor, we still have our pride! People in the village are talking behind my back, saying I’m putting on airs!” I was completely stunned. I opened the bottle and took a sip, then froze for a moment. This was not whisky at all. It was just plain water.

For three years, I’d used my family’s connections to bring the company hundreds of millions in revenue. But at the quarterly meeting, the new intern stood before everyone, displaying my attendance and expense reports, and accused me of “unexcused absences” and “squandering company funds.” “These high-end clubs, these restaurants…” she declared, her voice ringing with self-righteousness. “She spends thousands of dollars every time! These are completely unnecessary expenses.” “I strongly advise the CEO to fire her immediately and save the company’s cash flow.” I glanced at Claude, the CEO. My old classmate. He knew exactly how much revenue each of those meetings generated. He also knew that when I wasn't in the office, I was at some bar, negotiating with investors, sometimes drinking until my stomach turned. But he just stared at me coldly. “Caroline, what’s your explanation for the absences and expenses Lia has presented?” I smiled. “I have nothing to explain.” They would all learn, very soon, the consequences of this little stunt.

Tammy, who my husband Steven used to mentor, was in the car crash with me. My liver had ruptured. I was drenched in blood. Steven didn't even flinch. He yanked Tammy out first, and she only had a scratch on her forehead. While I was unconscious, barely hanging on, he was freaking out about her getting a scar. When I came to, completely done, I chucked the divorce papers at his face. He went feral—ripped them up and said I'd only leave him over his dead body. I used to hate when he pulled that line. But now? If that's what it takes, so be it.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

In the biggest bar of Gryndon, my younger sister, Evonne Bradford, is tossed onto the middle of the stage like a plaything. The men beneath the stage keep arguing with each other. At the moment, Evonne's complexion is as pale as a sheet. She can only stare at her fiance, Simon Scottman, in disbelief, who's sitting in the middle of the bar. "Simon, I'm your fiancee! How could you treat me like this?" Simon leans over to kiss the dainty-looking woman in his arms on the lips. Then, he shoots Evonne a cold look. "You don't even know who took your virginity, yet you still have the guts to question me?" The woman in Simon's arms just titters delicately, but the contempt in her eyes is plain to see when she looks at Evonne. Meanwhile, I sit in my booth, my gaze already icy. All it takes is three years of my absence in this country, and already someone dares to harm a member of the Bradford family.

While my entire family was helping my adopted sister try on wedding gowns, the doctor told me I had almost no time left. I held my terminal stomach cancer diagnosis and sent one message to the Moretti family group chat. “If I were dying, would any of you miss me?” Three minutes later, my parents replied. “You would lie about having cancer just to ruin Bianca’s wedding?” “Enough. The Moretti family has no daughter who tells lies like this.” My brother called, already irritated. “Bianca’s father died taking a bullet for me. No one will ever walk her down the aisle. She only wants to experience one wedding. Why can’t you let this go?” My childhood sweetheart and fiancé, Adrian Vitale, never answered. He was kneeling in front of Bianca, gently arranging the skirt of my wedding gown. Seven days earlier, my family had decided to give her my wedding. I stood there for a long time before signing the body donation papers. My parents and brother could choose her. My fiancé could choose her too. This time, I would fight for nothing.

When the SAT scores were released, the highest-scoring student in the state, Eva Long, had earned a 1590. During an interview with a local news station, a reporter asked her how she had done it. Eva's lips curved into a knowing smile. "My secret? My sister and her ex. They're both brilliant, and they have enough romantic drama between them to fill an entire TV series. They've been academic rivals since high school, always competing for the top grades. Even after they broke up, they still argued over who got to tutor me. Honestly, I owe my score to both of them." Once the interview aired, people immediately started digging into Bethany Long and Charles Hicks. They were both attractive, brilliant, and apparently perfect for each other. Before long, the internet was obsessed with them. Strangers were begging them to get back together. I was Charles's actual girlfriend. And all I could do was watch everyone celebrate his supposed love story with someone else. On my birthday, Charles and Bethany got so caught up arguing over a practice question that neither of them noticed I was still on the phone. I sat there listening while the candles burned down and the frosting on my cake began to melt. When Bethany needed a new SAT study plan, they shut themselves inside a hotel suite for three days to work on it. That same weekend, I underwent emergency appendix surgery alone and eventually passed out from the pain. On the day I was supposed to try on wedding dresses, Charles abandoned me again. "I promised Eva that Beth and I would take her on a trip after the SAT," he said. "She's still young, so try to be understanding." This time, I had no intention of arguing. I ended the call, took off the wedding dress, and told the consultant I wouldn't be needing it after all. Then I canceled the wedding. I had been doing everything alone for years, anyway. There was nothing wrong with finally admitting I was on my own.

My first day back home and my husband's secretary was already flexing her muscles, trying to grab my antique right out of my hands. Before I could get a word out, she smacked me across the face. Twice. She sneered at me with a look that could freeze fire. "This piece caught my eye, and I'm being nice to you. Better apologize and thank me, pronto!" I moved to confront her, but before I knew it, her bodyguard had me pinned to the ground. She looked down at me like I was nothing. "Trying to challenge me? I'm Mrs. Collins of the Collins family here in Riverton City. You're nothing! One word from my husband and you're out of here!" Passersby started chiming in: "Aren't you going to bow down and beg? She's the apple of Mr. Collins' eye." "Play your cards right, and maybe you'll still be scrubbing toilets in Riverton City." I was ready to set things straight when her title hit me like a ton of bricks. The Collins family of Riverton City? When did Eric get another wife? I dialed Eric's number and laughed calmly. "Eric, since when did you secretly marry someone behind my back?"

When I found out I'd won an $80,000 European vacation for two as a graduation prize, my Aunt Janice showed up at my house with my cousin, Kelsey Whitmore, who had always loved taking advantage of other people. "Elise, your dad's in poor health and can't fly. Why don't you give the trip to Kelsey and her husband? You'd probably get lost traveling on your own anyway. We won't take it for free. We'll give you a nice cash gift." Kelsey and her husband, Travis Connelly, had just gotten married and couldn't afford a honeymoon. My hands shook with absolute fury as I crumpled that meager 200 bucks in my fist. An $80,000 prize, and she expected to take all of it with a few casual words? I smiled, pushed the cash back toward her, and shook my head. "No, Aunt Janice. If my dad can't go, I can cash in the prize instead. Besides, Travis makes over $30,000 a month. Surely he can afford honeymoon tickets." Aunt Janice and Kelsey left with dark expressions. Half an hour later, Kelsey flooded the family group chat with celebration emojis. "Ticket redeemed! Thanks for the generous gift, Elise. I'll enjoy this luxury European honeymoon on your behalf." Aunt Janice tagged both my father and me. "Elise is such a thoughtful girl. She gave her European vacation to Kelsey." I was about to expose the lie when I heard my father talking on the phone in the next room. "That's right. Transfer the reservation to Kelsey. Elise and I both have a fever, so we can't go..." My heart went cold. While I was in the shower, my father had gone through my phone and stolen the redemption code. If he was willing to sacrifice his own life just to please his relatives, then I was done trying to save it.

There's a special rule in my family. No matter what I do, I have to get permission from my younger sister, Bernette Emerson, first. However, Bernette dies the year I turn five. So, every time I ask Mom for something, she lights a candle and tells me, "If the candle goes out within one minute, that means Bernette has agreed to it." But the candle never goes out on its own. So, over the years, I've never worn pretty dresses or gone to amusement parks. I have no idea what cake tastes like, either. Sometimes, when I get sick, I can't even go to the hospital because Bernette hasn't given me permission. Now that I'm older, my vision is impaired, and I have a severe gastric problem. Every time I show even a hint of dissatisfaction, Mom will scream at me. "If it weren't for you, Bernette wouldn't have died back then! You owe her this much, so you have no right to complain. At least you're still getting fed, aren't you? But what about her? She's already buried six feet under!" Eventually, I believe I'm the reason Bernette died, and that thought has haunted me for most of my life. Later on, I make a deal with Death, trading my life for hers. I will return to the past and die in Bernette's place. After death, my soul drifts back home. I see Mom hugging Bernette with joyful tears rolling down her cheeks. "It's all my fault for putting disinfectant in a juice bottle. Still, it's a good thing Dahlia got to it first. If you'd been the one who drank it instead, I wouldn't know how to live with that!"

My husband was like a broken record. His answer was always the same. "I can't leave." On our wedding anniversary, he said he couldn't leave because he had to take Natalie Rivers out and cheer her up. When I miscarried, he couldn't leave because he had to take Natalie to therapy. Even when my mother died, he still gave me the same answer. "I really can't leave. Natalie's depression has come back, and she can't be alone." Still weak after my miscarriage, I kept vigil alone for three days. That was when I finally understood. To him, neither our baby's life nor my mother's life mattered. My relatives were shocked to see me handling everything alone. "Josh really isn't coming?" After saying my final goodbye to my mother, I stood up and answered calmly. "No. He doesn't have that obligation anymore."

The night before the design competition, my husband took my design draft, promising to secure a patent to protect my work. In the intense competition, my work stood out and won first place. During the award ceremony, I walked on stage wearing the necklace that my daughter and I had made together. Suddenly, my seven-year-old daughter rushed up to the stage, screaming, "Mom, how could you steal Veronica's necklace? That's horrible and embarrassing. Just come down and go home with me."

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.