Short Stories & Novels

While waiting for my next ride request, I pick up a father and his son. As they get into my car, rainwater drips onto the seats. The man, Cory Quick, hands me five 20-dollar bills. "This should cover the car wash." Before I can refuse, Cory has already stuffed the money into the crack between the seats. "You drivers have it tough these days. My wife gives me so much allowance every month, and I can't even spend it all. "She's swamped with work today. Otherwise, she would've picked me up earlier. Isn't that right, Joel?" Cory holds his son, Joel Quick, in his arms, like he's showing off a little. I force a polite smile as I watch them through the rearview mirror. "Your wife treats you really well." Cory shrugs. "She's alright, I guess. Actually, she has a boyfriend, but she's worried he's after her money. That's why she's pretending to be broke. I married her overseas. Oh, right. Her boyfriend is a rideshare driver too." I freeze for a moment. After all, I also have a girlfriend who's drowning in debt after going bankrupt. Before I can even respond, the man holds up his phone and shows it to me. "Look at that. She knows I'm still not home, and she's sent me money again." Beneath the string of zeroes is a voice message. Cory taps on it, and Hannah Judd's voice comes through the phone. "Honey, are you in the car yet? I bought us supper, and I'll be home soon." A chill runs through me, and my hands start trembling on the steering wheel. Just a moment ago, I got a message from Hannah too. "I have a business dinner, so I don't think I'll make it home tonight."

Alessio Romano and I have grown up together. But so far, we've severed our friendship with each other 99 times over Vittoria Belleandi. The first time occurred because Vittoria tried to kill my puppy out of fear toward dogs. When I was fighting with her over my puppy, I shoved her to the ground. So, Alessio called off our friendship for three whole days. The sixth time occurred when Vittoria wanted to experience the feeling of getting confessed to in public. She wanted Alessio, who was already my boyfriend at that time, to do that to her. When I refused to let Vittoria have her way, Alessio cut off all ties with me for seven days. The 100th time occurs when I take away the management right of the branch company, something that Vittoria has been vying for a long time. But this time, Alessio doesn't cut off all ties with me. Instead, he tells me, "Chiara, I already told you that the Don will only acknowledge Vittoria's capabilities and let her stay as a part of the core family once she secures the management right. But you've ruined everything "Now, I can only register my marriage with Vittoria in order to secure her position! Only then will we proceed to discuss our own marriage!" Then, Alessio snatches the marriage application form from my hands. After witnessing Alessio and Vittoria signing their names together, I no longer throw a tantrum. Instead, I take off my engagement ring and book a flight ticket to another destination. But why is it that Alessio keeps begging me to return to him after I've left?

For three years of marriage, Jeanette Schafer had devoted herself completely to caring for Skyler Weisberg, who was confined to a wheelchair. Yet, Skyler harbored nothing but contempt for her. He hated her touch so much that the last time she accidentally brushed against his legs, he locked her out of their home for 99 days. The day finally came when Skyler's legs had healed enough for him to stand again. Yet, the first thing he did was to drive straight to the airport to pick up his first love. Years of selfless devotion and tender care meant nothing compared to his 'the one that got away'. Swallowing the heartbreak, Jeanette made a call. She whispered, "The contract is fulfilled. I'm filing for divorce." Only after she walked away did Skyler realize what he had lost. But by then, it was already too late.

Leo Payton has been straight for the past 20 years of his life. However, he realizes he's gay after sleeping with his best friend's elder brother, Archer Lacelle. Leo ties himself up with Archer's tie and says, "Archie, you know that I've never had a girlfriend since I was young."

I filed to leave Doctors Without Borders a year in advance, just so I could return home, keep my promise, and marry Dennis McMillan. But by the time I got back, Dennis was already a father. I overheard him telling the housekeeper, "Let Anna stay abroad a little longer. Best if she doesn't come back at all. If she finds out I have a son now, she'll definitely cause a scene." It was only then that I understood—he had deceived me. Three years ago, he said to me, "Go spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. Toughen yourself up. Once you are more mature, you'll be ready to be my wife." And I was mature now. I wasn't the same girl who used to break down in tears whenever something went wrong. My tastes had changed too. And now, I wasn't interested in someone like him anymore.

On the day I was supposed to officially introduce Sean Olson to my family, he showed up two hours late. The food on the table had already gone cold, and the look in my mom's eyes shifted from playful teasing to deep worry. Just as I was pulling out my phone to call him, a TikTok notification popped up on my screen. It was a video posted by Madison Grant, a student in his dance company. In the clip, Sean was dancing a passionate duet with her. He held her tightly by the waist as they spun together, and as the spin ended, he leaned in so close that his lips almost brushed her forehead, his eyes full of lingering affection. The caption read: [Thanks to my coach for choreographing this routine for me. We're like soulmates on the dance floor!] I locked my phone and told my family he had an emergency. After that, the entire dinner tasted completely bland. Late that night, Sean finally came home covered in the smell of sweat. He cautiously wrapped his arms around me from behind, murmuring sleepily, “Babe, I'm so sorry. The new girl’s basics are just too weak, so I had to stay late to give her extra training. “The Latin dance competition is next month, and she's the dancer I'm coaching. I can't afford to ruin my reputation. “Once the competition is over, I'll bring a nice bottle of wine over to apologize to your mom, okay?” I didn't say a single word. Because from now on, whoever he chooses to dance with has absolutely nothing to do with me anymore.

I was the only female carpenter in town, and I made caskets at cost price for anyone in the area who needed one. Everyone said I was generous, kind-hearted, the whole routine. Then one afternoon, Doug Hadley showed up at my shop with his wife Trish Grady and a handful of neighbors to order a cremation urn. Trish stared at the price tag. "An urn for only 50 dollars? What is this, scrap wood?" Doug shot her a look. "Don't run your mouth about things you don't understand. It's solid ebony. Bridget makes them herself, so it's cheaper." Trish snickered behind her hand. "Solid ebony? That might fool someone who doesn't know any better. My cousin runs a funeral supply shop, so trust me, I know what I'm looking at. This isn't ebony. It's plywood. It's five dollars' worth of material, tops. "I can take you all to my cousin's place. I'll make sure he gives us a deal." The neighbors were already nodding. "The urn's supposed to last a hundred years. Obviously, I want the best for my mom." "Selling plywood and calling it ebony... You ought to be ashamed." "Come on, let's all go to Trish's cousin. I'm not giving her the chance to make dirty money off any of us." Dirty money? As far as I knew, mine was the only shop in town that actually stocked real ebony. Everyone else used MDF. If they were not afraid of the thing falling apart, they were welcome to go for it.

My billionaire dad chooses a husband for me. People claim that Sebastian Lambert is a fine gentleman who's absolutely in awe of me. He seems easy enough to deal with, so I agree to the marriage. The wedding is held at the biggest hotel my family owns. On the big day, as I push open the doors in my wedding dress, a bucket of foul-smelling blood comes crashing down on me. The scene inside is even more horrifying. What was supposed to be a pure and romantic ceremony is now decorated with giant spiders and cockroaches. Grotesque clown faces grin at me from the walls. At the altar, there's a black coffin. Sebastian's adoptive sister, Ruth Lambert, strolls over with a group of people. She covers her mouth in fake surprise as she remarks, "Oh my, Claudia, you look like a pathetic mutt right now!" Laughter erupts around me. Holding my anger back, I coldly reply, "All of you, get out." She crosses her arms, arrogantly looking down at me as if she's on some pedestal. "Come on, Claudia. Seb personally asked me to surprise you. I put in a lot of effort to decorate your little wedding. You're telling me to get out? I don't even get a 'thank you'? Do you need me to teach you some manners?" She signals to the people next to her, and two of them step forward, trying to force me to my knees. Stunned for a few seconds, I pull out my phone and call Sebastian. "Is this the so-called surprise you had your sister prepare for me? Forcing me to kneel before her?"

My best friend, Clara Wilder, has baked an apple pie for me. But I don't hesitate to give it to my pregnant dog. That's because I've gotten reborn. In my previous lifetime, Clara had bound the Fertility Transfer System to me. If I were to eat the food she made, the baby I was pregnant with would be transferred into her womb, and she would be the one giving birth to them. Clara had married into the wealthy Gray family. For three generations, the Grays were only able to produce one heir each. That was why her in-laws desperately needed her to bear them grandchildren. Since Clara couldn't get pregnant at all, she decided to target me, her newly-wedded best friend. I went to great lengths just to get pregnant every time, but right after I ate the food Clara made, I'd go through a miscarriage by accident. Just like that, Clara was able to give birth to four sons in a row. She became the apple of her in-laws and her husband, Colton Gray's eye, which made her ego swell like mad. In the end, Clara and Colton hatched a plot where they accused me of cheating on my own husband. With my reputation flushed down the drain, I got kicked out by my in-laws. In the end, I starved to death on the streets without a penny under my name. At the end of the day, Clara wants children very badly, doesn't she? After I get reborn, I decide to give her some special "babies".

Pietro Ricci, the Don of the Ricci Famiglia, is a notorious womanizer. He has been married for five years, and for four and a half years, he has lived with his mistresses instead of me. He has more lovers than he can count. In a private room at a bar, his friend, Marco Gallo, raises his glass and says teasingly, "How did you get your wife to be so understanding? Why doesn't Lucia make a fuss anymore? "She doesn't even complain when you sleep with Antonia. After you two are done, she even has hot water ready for you. We're all jealous of you!" Pietro lazily leans back against the couch, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The women of the Ricci Famiglia are bound by a Famiglia code. None of them are allowed to interfere in their husband's affairs. Their husbands' comfort always comes first. Anyone who violates the Famiglia code will face punishment." Marco covers his mouth in shock. "Oh my goodness! Back then, you went against your entire Famiglia just so you could marry Lucia, and you almost lost your position as the Don too. And now you're seriously using the Famiglia code to punish her?" Pietro wraps an arm around Antonia Costa and casually takes a sip of the wine in her hand. A low chuckle escapes his lips. "Lucia's such a handful. If I don't teach her a lesson, she'll never learn. As the Donna of the Ricci Famiglia, she needs to be able to accept this." I don't cry or make a fuss when I hear them laughing in the private room. I simply turn away and return to the Ricci residence, where I plead with the Ricci elder. "I no longer wish to renew the marriage agreement for a sixth year. It expires tomorrow, and I'm willing to leave him for good."

After Stefan Grimaldi's first love died, he hated me for five years. I did everything I could to please him, but he never softened. The only thing he ever said was, "If you really want to make me happy, go die. Go keep Sienna company in her grave." It cut deep every time. I told myself it would always be this way, that he would carry that hatred until one of us was gone. I was wrong. When assassins came for us, Stefan stepped in front of the bullet without hesitation. He went down in my arms. With the little breath he had left, he looked up at me and said, "Annie, if there's a next life, I hope I never meet you again." At his funeral, his father stood over the casket, barely holding himself together. "Stefan, I was wrong. I never should have forced you to marry Annie. If I had listened to you back then and let you marry Sienna, none of this would have happened," he said. His mother turned on me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with blame. "This is all your fault. Every time, Stefan ended up in danger because of you. What have you ever given him besides disaster?" I kept my head down and said nothing. They were not the only ones with regrets. I regretted marrying Stefan too. On the night of the full moon, I climbed to the top of the church tower and jumped. I woke five years in the past. This time, I was done.

Sophie, who deeply loved Dylan, had been enduring constant pain because Dylan was in love with a lowly maid. Dylan believed the maid was his lifesaver, and he forced Sophie to donate a kidney to her. Only then did he realize he had mistaken the wrong person—but by that time, Sophie had already left him forever.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

After finishing work overseas, I rush to catch a flight home for my wedding. Unfortunately, the plane crashes. When Rachel Lindt hears the news, she frantically calls me over and over. I'm trapped beneath the wreckage, unable to move. The calls keep going to voicemail. "I don't care how much it costs. Find Sebastian no matter what." For a moment, I'm touched by how much she seems to love me. Then, I hear the rest of what she says. "Once you find him, transplant his heart into Cameron Zink. He doesn't have much time left." "But Ms. Lindt, Mr. Yarrow's leg is broken. He needs surgery immediately, or he'll be permanently disabled." Rachel replies coldly, "No. Cameron's surgery comes first. We can't delay it. Besides..." Her voice grows even colder as she continues, "It'll be easier to control him if he's disabled. When I bring my son home in the future, he won't dare say a word." Lying only a short distance away from my phone, I can't stop the tears that stream down my face. So the marriage I've looked forward to for ten years is nothing more than an act. And I'm nothing more than a tool. But later, because of this very tool, Rachel personally cuts Cameron's heart out.

When my body was being dismembered, my fiance was helping my cousin choose her wedding dress. When he received my distress call, he said with disgust, "I hope you never come back! You can die with the bastard in your womb! Don't ever call me again. The mentioning of your name makes me sick!" After that, he found a body part of me in a water tank on the rooftop of a hotel. He thought it was a prank, so he actually ordered white lilies and candles to be delivered to my doorstep. Only when he found my head buried in the grass under his feet on the day of our wedding did he realize that it wasn't a prank.

I am a little ditzy all the time, and my mind is often hazy. Three years ago, I bring home a handsome drunk guy in a daze. After he wakes up and stares at me for a while, he suddenly says, "Let's get married." I do not feel like thinking too much, so I nod. Just like that, I spend three years as the wealthy Nolan Steele's wife. I am free to shop as I please, and I live in a luxury villa. I just find out I am pregnant and have not had time to tell Nolan yet when he hands me a divorce agreement. "I have gone bankrupt. This is the last sum of money. Take it and leave." At that moment, a few lines of comments suddenly appear before my eyes. "Whoa! Nolan's first love, Celia Sanders, has returned from abroad!" "Is he pretending to go bankrupt just to dump Lyra so that he can chase after his true love?" "He got drunk back then because Celia left the country. Lyra is just a substitute!" Oh? So I'm just a substitute… I nod slowly and say, "Okay. Let's get a divorce, then." The light in his eyes instantly goes out. I look at him, feeling like there is something I have forgotten to say. Forget it. I will say it when I remember.

According to company policy, anyone who achieves the feat of being the top salesperson for three years in a row will receive a thousand-square-foot apartment as a bonus. To achieve this goal, I work day and night, chasing every order I can find. But once I finally meet the criteria, I'm told that the policy has been abolished. Saul Hurst, my direct superior, brushes me off with a bonus of 500 dollars instead. Smirking at me, he says, "Being good at sales is all well and good, but you still need to improve your understanding of the company's rules and values. "Young people need to stay humble and know their place. Don't keep trying to show off. It isn't good to constantly hog the spotlight." I don't lose my temper. Instead, I manage to stay unusually calm as I took the "massive bonus" I got in exchange for three years of hard work. Two days later, our company headquarters conducts its annual sales evaluation. When one of our clients offers me a sales deal worth eight million dollars, I turn it down on the spot. After all, I believe that part of what it means to be professional is to do as my superior says. Since I'm supposed to stay humble and know my place, I've chosen to keep a low profile and not do anything that puts me under the spotlight. Besides, even if our branch fails to meet the total sales target, I'm not the one who's going to be held accountable for that.

Ever since my wife, Allison Strong, gives birth to our son, Noel Russell, she becomes unable to speak. The doctors say it is likely a psychological issue. For three whole years, she does not say a single word to me. Even when there's a gas leak in the house, she simply waits for me to discover it myself. When Noel cries from hunger, she never tries to comfort him. After my company goes bankrupt, I don't even have time to grieve. I spend my days delivering packages to support the family while taking my wife to see psychologists and specialists. One day, I am dead tired after working from morning until night. As I back my car into the garage, I fail to notice that Allison has left three-year-old Noel to play behind the vehicle. The moment I feel the car roll over something, my gut tells me something is very wrong. Noel's cries last only a few moments before he falls silent. My legs nearly give out beneath me. Forcing myself to stay upright, I scoop up Noel and rush him to the hospital with my hands trembling uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Allison stands silently somewhere to the side. Just like always, she says nothing. Her expression remains absolutely unfazed. Though she is the one who has given birth to Noel, everything seems completely unrelated to her. I have a mental breakdown. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shake her desperately and yell, "You saw what was happening, why didn't you warn me? Why did you let him play there? What kind of psychological problem do you have that you can just stand by and watch your own son die? "Are you trying to destroy me, Allison?" I scream hysterically, but she still does not open her mouth or make a sound. Despair engulfs me. Three years of complete silence from her crushes me. Just when I am about to give up, Allison pushes through the crowd and softly speaks her first words in three years. They are quiet, but I hear them clearly. "Clarence..." Clarence Welch is the name of her first love. Only then do I realize that her psychological issue is with Noel and me.

When my boyfriend pressed the wrong elevator button for my sister's floor yet again, he gave me a blaming look. "Why didn't you remind me? Whatever. Since we're already outside her door, I might as well help Nicole change her broken lightbulb." I managed to force a bitter smile. There it was again. "Since we're already here." Ever since my sister, Nicole, moved into the penthouse of my apartment building a year ago, my boyfriend had consistently pressed the wrong button. When we were supposed to watch a movie together, he carried the champagne he bought straight to Nicole's door and knocked. When I had a raging fever and asked him to bring me medicine, he bought painkillers instead and delivered them to Nicole because she happened to have a headache. Even on my birthday, he walked right into Nicole's apartment carrying my birthday cake. "Since the cake is already at her place, let's just use it to celebrate your sister's housewarming," he had said. "And since I'm already here, the light in Nicole's living room is out. I'll fix it for her real quick." Right now, I watched as he walked into Nicole's apartment without even looking back. With an expressionless face, I hit the button to close the elevator doors. He had completely forgotten that my lease expired today. It was moving day. Since he chose Nicole, there was no reason for me to wait for him any longer.

Since my favorite basketball player is hosting a meet-and-greet, I've ordered a VIP seat that comes with the benefit of interacting with the player in advance. When the time comes, I follow a staff member to my designated seat. I'm about to sit down when a man walks over and takes my seat instead. "This is where I can watch the meet-and-greet the best. I shall have this seat, then." I just stare at the man, completely speechless. "Sir, this is my seat. Please get off the chair." What I don't expect is for him to dig out a stack of cash before hurling it at me. "A peasant like you has no right to meet basketball stars! I'm buying this seat from you right now! Take the money and scram!" Seeing that I refuse to leave, the man continues haughtily, "I'm Wilbur Collins, the assistant of Jade Pearson, CEO of Pearson Group! Everyone in this city knows who the Pearsons are! Are you trying to push your luck here?" Jade Pearson? Isn't that the fiancee who my dad has betrothed to me? I pull out my phone and call her right away. "Hey, your assistant has snatched my seat from me in a basketball star's meet-and-greet session like the hooligan he is. You'd better give me a good explanation for this!"