Short Stories & Novels

Ten years after I accidentally crossed into the modern world, the system finally detected the glitch that was me. It was ready to send me back to the era I belonged to, but it gave me three days to say goodbye. On the first day, Corinne Whitford asked me to step aside so her childhood sweetheart could take my place at the altar. I did not cry or make a scene. I just smiled, slipped off my ring and handed it back to her. On the second day, she brought him home. She told me she was giving him a home. I did not argue, just stepped aside and let it happen. On the third day, she wanted to take him on a honeymoon to Wyndmere, the one place I had always dreamed of going. I helped her arrange everything, gentle as ever. When she stepped onto the train bound for Wyndmere, I turned and walked toward the road that would take me home. This ten-year dream had run its course. It was time to wake up.

"For Kate's year-end bonus this year, let's just give her 500 dollars to keep up appearances." My boss' nonchalant conversation with the accountant drifts through the half-closed break room door. "500 dollars? But Mr. Ribeiro, she's our top salesperson this year," the accountant reminds Rupert Ribeiro cautiously. "The new guy, Carter Stevens, just closed a small deal, and you just approved a 5,000-dollar bonus for him…" Rupert scoffs. "You don't get it. Carter's a man—a rising star. You have to throw money at him to bring out his killer instinct. "As for Kate, she's a 40-year-old woman. She's old. Even if she leaves us, who's going to want her? Giving her 500 dollars is already doing her a favor. In fact, she should thank me for even giving her a paycheck." My fingers tighten around my coffee mug until my knuckles turn white. As it turns out, my relentless hustle is nothing more than a cheap commodity to them. When I get back to my desk, I find Carter kicked back in his chair, legs crossed and absorbed in a mobile game. The moment he sees me walk in, he pushes a stack of documents toward me. "Kate, Mr. Ribeiro wants you to review this contract for me. We men are careless. This kind of detail-oriented work is best left to the women." Looking at his smug face, I pull out my phone and call the recruiter from a rival company. "That offer with triple my current salary? I'll take it. And one more thing. My five biggest clients have already made their stance clear—wherever I go, their business goes with me." After I hang up, I look Carter straight in the eye and calmly push the stack of documents back toward him. "I'll leave this kind of detail-oriented work for the pillars of the company to tackle. Take your time." Without me, let's just see how long it takes before this company comes crashing down.

When my mother first told me about the arranged marriage, Noah Parker lowered his head and kissed me, pulling me closer as we became tangled together. After a haze of passion, he carried me into the bathroom. Warm water streamed over my skin, but his words sent a chill straight through me, as if I'd fallen into an icy pit. "Go home. And don't come looking for me here again." I thought he'd seen the text and was jealous, so I quickly clung to him and swore, "I won't marry anyone else—" His smile stayed, but the heat in his eyes cooled into something distant. "But I'm getting married." He brushed back my messy hair, ignoring how my body trembled under his touch. "My fiancée is gentle and kind—nothing like you. She’d never throw herself at her foster brother like that. We've already set a date. If you keep clinging to me like this, she'll be upset with me."

To protect my boyfriend, Nico, the illegitimate son of our allies, the Moretti family, from their internal power struggles, I agreed to leave New York with him. But on the eve of my adoptive father, the Don of the Falcone family, signing our transfer orders, he backed out. Through the hidden door of the cigar lounge, I heard his right-hand man tease him: "So you really kept up that act for three months just to get rid of the princess?" "But she's your childhood sweetheart. You really have the heart to some miserable fishing village in the Baltics all by herself?" Nico's voice was nonchalant. "It's just an outpost across the pond. How far can it be?" "Scarlett is too controlling. If I don't get her out of the picture, how am I supposed to get any breathing room? Besides, I need to put Chloe at ease." I stood behind that hidden door for a long time that night, my grip on the doorknob tightening until my knuckles were white, before I finally let go. I turned and walked away, pulling out my tablet to change my flight plan. I changed the destination from the official plan of that desolate Baltic outpost to a seat at the High Table in Sicily, which is the absolute center of old-world Mafia power. Everyone seemed to have forgotten. I am the princess of the Falcone family. And he is nothing but filth from the gutter. We were never a match.

When I was seven years old, my parents burned my birth certificate right in front of me at the dinner table. Across from me, my younger sister, Abigail Parker, calmly cut into her steak without even looking up. Dad said that raising two children was just another investment, and every investment had to be cut loose before the losses became too big. I was the loss they chose to write off. They poured every advantage into Abigail while leaving me to grow up in a dark, damp basement. Twenty years later, my parents are old, and Abigail, whom they placed on a pedestal, has become the most ruthless creditor they've ever faced. Standing in the dust-covered family home, I unfold a yellowed document titled Family Asset Divestment Agreement and can't help but laugh. This time, I'm the one settling the accounts.

I got my hands on a crystal necklace from a witch, one that let me swap anything with anyone. The second I took it, lines of text flickered across my vision like a live comment feed. [Oh no, the Wolf Alliance Academy Trials are about to start. The villain's definitely going to use that Exchange Necklace to steal the heroine's scores.] [Relax. The heroine already overheard their whole scheme. She's just gonna leave her exam blank. Good luck swapping a zero.] [Our girl is the Alpha's daughter. Even if she bombs the Trials, she'll inherit his position anyway. What's the villain gonna do about that?] I gripped the Exchange Necklace tighter. Her test scores? Please. That wasn't what I was after. I wanted something far more important.

I'm a cheapskate, so I decide to rent a haunted apartment at a low price. On the first night of moving into said apartment, the taps turn on by themselves. I yell angrily at the empty apartment, "You'd better pay the water bill, then!" The water stops flowing immediately. It has me thinking that this is the beginning of a long, arduous battle between humans and the supernatural… Unexpectedly, I see a piping hot meal on the dining table the next day.

Chuck's beloved ex, Ella, got divorced and showed up with her two-year-old daughter. Without asking me, he let Ella and her kid move into our home. Then Ella posted a photo of Chuck holding the child, captioned: [My husband cheated, so I filed for divorce, gave my baby a new dad, and found myself a new husband.] The comments were full of praise: [Real-life boss woman drama!] I had to laugh—so being a homewrecker is what counts as a strong woman now? Chuck didn't see a problem. He even told the child to call me "Momma." "Ella's husband cheated on her. She's raising a kid alone. As a woman, can't you have a little empathy? I'm just helping her out." Well, I had no empathy to give—not for the mistress, and definitely not for the scumbag.

In her past life, Elara Newman had married Orion Baron, who turned out to be an absent husband. On the day she gave birth, she suffered a severe hemorrhage and lost consciousness. However, Orion was unreachable. After she was snapped awake by the doctor, she had to sign her name on the surgical consent form while her hands were still shaking. When her children caught a raging fever, Orion was still nowhere to be seen. She had to rush to the hospital all by herself, and after three consecutive days of looking after them, she was exhausted and passed out in the corridor. On the day when her parents passed away in a car accident, Orion was still absent. As she returned home with the urn containing her parents' ashes, she was greeted by a vicious slap across the face. Her uncle immediately berated her for failing to win her husband over. He blamed her that her parents never got a chance to see their son-in-law before they passed and could never rest in peace. By the time Elara turned fifty-eight, she was terminally ill with cancer. Her life was coming to an end.

I spent three days and three nights decorating the altar for my mating ceremony. My mate, Alpha Alec, used it to pledge himself to another woman. His dead brother’s mate. I rushed to confront him, but before I could speak, Serena clutched her chest and collapsed. Furious, Alec threw me in the silver room, leaving me to suffer as the silver burned through my veins. "My brother died before he could claim her! I was giving Serena the ceremony she deserved. Why did you have to ruin it?" "Serena's wolf is weak because of you. You'll stay here until she wakes up. Think about what you've done." Three years later, the Lycan King, Damien, returned to the North with his mate. He was hosting a summit for the Alliance at a top-tier lakeside resort. Alec arrived with Serena, who was dripping in luxury. He was there to beg Damien for control over the Alliance's new project on the Genetic Decay. He saw me being blocked by the guards and glanced at the file in my hands. "I heard you bonded with some rogue, a worthless wolf with a tainted bloodline, just to spite me. Regretting it now?" "If you beg me, I might consider getting you in." I didn't even bother to look at him. Damien had left a critical report at home. I had to get it to him before the summit meeting.

After being tortured by kidnappers for three days and three nights, my wife, Abigail Hunley, empties our savings to pay my ransom. But as I lie on the operating table, barely clinging to life, I overhear her talking to the doctor. She instructs, "Later on, cut up my husband's face. Make sure no amount of plastic surgery can ever fix it. And while you're at it, break his leg. Make sure he never stands again for the rest of his life." The doctor is stunned. "But Lorne Carmack is the most handsome stage actor in our country. Ms. Hunley, are you really going to ruin the man you love most just for Noah Jenner?" Abigail replies, "It's okay. Lorne will understand why I have to do this. He loves me so much that even if he finds out the truth someday, he'll forgive me. Never mind. Destroy his eyesight as well. What he can't see won't hurt him. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to him." A chill runs down my spine as overwhelming fear and grief consume me. The wife who once loved me more than life itself is willing to destroy my future for the sake of her first love. If the love we've shared for the past ten years is nothing but a lie, then I don't want it anymore.

Clara posted a photo of her ultrasound on Instagram. "Thanks to your bloodline, I finally have my own little pup." I stared at the ultrasound. Ryan's name was written clearly in the field for the father. I typed a single question mark in the comments. Ryan called me immediately, screaming his head off. "Celine, what the hell is wrong with you? Clara is dying from silver poisoning. This was her final wish! Can't you show some damn compassion?" "Kaleb was my brother. He's gone, and it's my duty to look after his mate! She just wanted a pup to keep her company in her final days. Do you really have to be this petty?" I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. Clara was Ryan's childhood sweetheart. They grew up together in the Dark Moon Pack before she married Ryan's best friend, Kaleb. Six months ago, Kaleb was killed by rogues during a border patrol, leaving Clara a widow. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with late-stage silver poisoning. She has at most a year left to live. But I never imagined Ryan's "care" would go this far. A little while later, Clara posted a new set of photos. She was in a luxury high-rise apartment downtown. The city skyline stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the kitchen was bathed in a warm glow. "So glad you're here to make me feel the warmth of a home again." In the photo, I saw a man's back as he busied himself in the kitchen wearing an apron. It was Ryan. The sight was so familiar it made my eyes sting. I rubbed my stomach, thinking about the pregnancy I'd confirmed just two weeks ago. I suddenly let out a sharp laugh. This mate bond? It's time to end it.

My husband, Joe Anderson, was a captain of a cargo ship. He would usually spend about ten months a year at sea. I always trusted him, but I had a habit that no one really knew about. Whenever he docked at a port for replenishment, I would go for a drink with the vice captain’s wife, Helen Scott. Luke Henson was a quiet man, but Helen was very talkative with a very low alcohol tolerance. We were chatting about life and our husbands away on the ship. Third drink in, she suddenly leaned in and said, “Joe’s too romantic. “Last month, when they were docked, he deliberately looked for a local jeweler to customize a wave-themed jewelry set. “There were necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and more. He even asked for the items to be shipped back. I’m so envious of you.” I said in a low voice, “Is that so? Why didn’t I receive it?” I did not ask any further questions, and she changed the topic tactfully. That night, when I got home, I looked through his shipping logbook and saw that the jewelry delivery address was not my home. The tides had turned, and it was time for me to leave.

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."

I was in a car accident while saving my brothers. However, instead of gratitude, they urged the doctors to amputate my legs. "Carol, we're sorry," they said through tears. "We're useless… but don't worry. Even if we have to sell our blood or our kidneys, we'll make sure you're taken care of." Right after surgery, they abandoned me in a shabby apartment. Blood seeped through the sheets as they looked at me with teary eyes—then left in a hurry, claiming they needed to earn money for my treatment. I did not want to drag them down anymore. Enduring the pain, I crawled to the rooftop of a tall building, planning to end my life. That's when I saw it—inside a luxury hotel, a grand celebration was taking place. My brothers were there doting on another girl. She was eating an extravagant cake I had never even dreamed of, wearing a designer princess gown worth a fortune, sparkling with jewels. Everyone called her the Smith family's one and only princess. They had even hired a world-class symphony orchestra to play Happy Birthday just for her. While I lay bleeding in a dingy apartment, they would not spend a few dollars on bandages for me. I watched as my eldest brother gently fed her cake, his eyes full of tenderness. "Jasmine, only you deserve to be our one and only little sister." The second brother placed a tiara on her head with care. "Even for the smallest birthday, we won't let you suffer a single moment of disappointment." The third knelt to help her into a pair of crystal shoes. "Jasmine, you're our most precious darling." Then, standing on the stage, Jasmine held up the black credit card they had gifted her and smiled sweetly. "Brothers," she said, "Carol lost her legs saving you. Maybe you should go see how she's doing?" My eldest brother let out a mocking laugh. "She's not worth it. Now that she's crippled, she'll never be able to compete with you again. She got what she deserved."

I'm the only university student in the village. But my entire family praises my cousin, Calvin Meyer, who has graduated from a vocational school, for being a talented person. What I've discovered is that Calvin's so-called talent actually comes from him voicing my thoughts. When I want to recite a poem as a toast to the guests, Calvin quickly says the poem out loud, resulting in everyone applauding for him. Naturally, Calvin takes the initiative to show off his "flair" for poetry in front of Barbara Sullivan, a well-known professor, by reciting the poetry that I've thought up. Because of that, she has taken a fancy to him. My uncle, Gary Meyer, uses the opportunity to insult me for being a dull bookworm who doesn't know how to socialize with others. On my grandpa's 80th birthday, my aunt, Sierra Meyer, who runs a huge business on her own, brings her family back to the village for the occasion. Uncle Gary arranges for me and Calvin to prepare a speech of our own so that we can convince Aunt Sierra to extend a helping hand to the youngsters' careers in the family. At the banquet, Calvin shoots up to his feet with his wine glass raised. He shoots me a smug look at that moment. Meanwhile, I just keep smiling before I begin thinking about the shocking gossip featuring Aunt Sierra and her family.

"This is the body donation agreement, Mr. Lewis. Please sign here." Joel Lewis looks at the paper before him. His hand trembles as he grips a pen. The other party can sense his hesitance. They say considerately, "Body donation is a big thing, and it's normal for people to change their minds at the last minute. You can go home and discuss this with your family—" "I've already signed it." Joel smiles bitterly. "Family" is a term that's beyond him. There's no longer any space in his wife's heart for him, after all.

I wheel myself into the birthday celebration that Wales Price has thrown for me. The atmosphere is originally lively, but a brief silence descends when everyone sees me. The guests are there for different purposes, but celebrating my birthday is not one of them. "Is that Mr. Price's crippled fiancée, Joey Hertza?" "Yeah, but the one he really loves is Anna Giovanni. I saw them kissing in a corner earlier." They use their wine glasses to block their mouths as they speak loudly. They think I'm still the crippled deaf I used to be. They don't know that I regained my hearing last week. I can hear every mocking comment they make. Meanwhile, Wales stands there and allows it to happen. He doesn't stop the guests from talking about me. He seems to have forgotten that I only ended up like this while protecting him. I shoved him away when the accident happened and got trapped underneath the car myself. When I was rescued, Wales swore to stay with me and care for me for life. It's only been three short years since then, but he's already changed. I receive a message on my phone. "Ms. Hertza, the lifelike corpse that you've ordered is now complete. Reply to this message with your confirmation, and your death-faking service will be immediately effective. We will send the corpse to your and Mr. Price's wedding in five days." I don't even hesitate as I reply with my confirmation. Enjoy your wedding, Wales.

Everyone says I'm lucky to be Frosthowl pack's Luna because my Alpha mate, Matthew White, loves me dearly. I love roses and fireworks, so he buys all that are available on my birthday. When it's almost midnight, he kisses me tenderly and says, "I'll turn you into a Luna that everyone envies, Amber." The fireworks light up the sky above the castle of roses he's built for me, and they go on for the rest of the night. They make it seem brighter than day. He and I do it underneath the fireworks and flowers throughout the night, and I accidentally catch a cold. Matthew is so guilty that he summons the pack's best healer to treat my inconsequential cold. All the werewolves treat our mate bond as a symbol of true love. However, just moments ago, I found a torn pair of black stockings in his suit jacket's pocket. I never wear those. However, his secretary, Beth Seymour, who helps him deal with the pack's matters, wears them every day.

It's been three years since my heiress sister, Zoey Hudson, blocked me. She donates one dollar to my RainDrop Fund campaign and leaves a comment dripping with mockery. "Lung cancer, huh? Let me know when you're really dead. I'll throw a party." Three years ago, Andrew Lane—the needy student she's been sponsoring—accuses me of stealing his college admission spot. Zoey flies into a rage and has me pulled out of school on the spot. "Even if you couldn't get into college on your own, I would still have your back," she snaps. "But stealing someone else's spot? That has to be punished." We have a massive fight that ends with her coldly kicking me out of the house. "Come back when you realize what you did wrong. I refuse to believe I can't fix that rotten attitude of yours!" Since then, she has treated that needy student like a prince. As for me? She makes sure I lose every single job I land, until my only way to survive is picking through trash. I stare at her comment blankly for a long while before calling a cemetery plot salesman. "Please hold the cheapest one for me. I'll send you the deposit tomorrow." The single dollar Zoey donated is just enough to hit the withdrawal threshold. I'll give her exactly what she asked for.