Short Stories & Novels

My wife, Maya Griffin, has no idea that Harry Quinlan, the infertile heir to an elite family, has just deposited his final jar of sperm cells into the sperm bank. She allows her childhood sweetheart, Elijah Cook, who's also a new intern at the sperm bank, to install a pirated copy of antivirus software into the system, which damages the freezing aspect of the bank and causes the internal temperature to rise. I use my stellar hacking skills to repair the system, thus preserving Harry's sperm. When Harry insists on holding Elijah responsible, Maya is about to defend Elijah when I stop her. "If you speak up for him now, you'll be destroying your own reputation instead. You'll also get blacklisted by all the companies." In his despair, Elijah commits suicide in the freezer. Before he dies, he leaves a video behind that accuses Maya of not saving him out of selfishness. Maya destroys the video calmly. Then, she states that Elijah has reaped what he has sown. Many years later, Maya's cybersecurity company becomes internationally renowned. She lures me into a freezer before trapping me there. Then, she watches me coldly as I beg her to release me. That's how I died with hatred in my eyes. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day when Elijah installs the pirated software he has bought online. This time, I turn off my phone and go back to bed. Without my help in this lifetime, I'd like to see how Maya and Elijah will face Harry's wrath.

“Ma’am, there’s no marriage record between you and Mr. Mark Henderson in the system.” My fingers tightened around the pregnancy report as my legs nearly gave out beneath me. Five years ago, Mark was recruited by a top law firm abroad with a high-paying offer. Without hesitation, I followed him across the ocean. He had told me, “Once I’m settled, I’ll take care of your status.” However, five years had passed, and my lawful permanent residence was still “in process.” Meanwhile, his assistant, Tonya Irving, who followed him abroad, had secured hers under his sponsorship. Back then, I made a scene, insisting on a divorce so I could return home. For the first time, the ever-composed Mark, an attorney, lost his calm. He grabbed my hand and said, “Tonya’s all alone out here, and it hasn’t been easy for her. Helping her is just the right thing to do. You’re my wife. Your status is only a matter of time. My work is sensitive right now, and I need to avoid any complications. You understand, don’t you?” But I had understood him for five whole years. My phone suddenly rang. Mark’s voice came through, light with laughter. “Tonya’s permanent residence was approved today. We’re celebrating tonight. I need you to get home early and cook up a feast.” I stared at the marriage license in my hand—now nothing more than a worthless piece of paper. A cold chill spread down my spine. As it turned out, I was never his legal wife. I had no legal status and no protection, much less rights secured for the child I was carrying. After hanging up, I scheduled an abortion and booked the earliest flight home. This time, I wouldn’t look back.

When Ingrid Stewart, the prettiest woman in the factory, got dragged into an abandoned warehouse by a hooligan named Edmund Holloway, I didn't rush after them with a brick in my hand, unlike my past self in the previous life. Instead, I went to the nearest police station right away. In my previous life, I sustained heavy injuries in order to save Ingrid from Edmund. The Stewarts decided to marry her to me so that they could repay my life debt. After our marriage, I treated Ingrid with utmost sincerity, but all I received in return was her resentment. On the night the rundown apartment we lived in was on fire, I rushed into the inferno to push Ingrid and our son out of danger. In return, a beam crashed down on me. When I raised my head, I saw Ingrid dragging our son toward Edmund. Then, she said to me icily, "This is all your fault, you stupid coward! You're the reason why Edmund and I weren't able to get together for so many years!" Edmund guffawed loudly as well. "Right, I forgot to tell you that your son, whom you've loved for 18 years, is actually my child!" In the end, I kept coughing up blood because I inhaled too much smoke. Just like that, I died a gruesome death in the fire. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Ingrid gets harassed by Edmund. In this life, I choose to grant Ingrid and Edmund's wish of staying together.

After being chosen by a horror game, I took over a food stall in a small town. A ghoul tried to eat me, his huge, bloody mouth a gaping maw, but I quickly shoved a focaccia sandwich into it. He chewed and then said, “Oh, forget it. With food to eat, I’ll kill her tomorrow.” The next day, I made delicious pierogies, then skewers and stews. All the ghouls who stopped by gave up on trying to kill me, focusing on eating instead. The audience watching me was shocked that I could survive all the way to the end with just my cooking.

My girlfriend Chloe Bennett's childhood buddy, Daniel Miller, binds himself to a transfer system. Everything he eats gets sent straight into my stomach. He creates a live stream channel and eats nonstop for 12 hours a day to rake in money. Meanwhile, I end up in the ER with acute pancreatitis. I try to explain everything to Chloe, but she just looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could something that ridiculous exist? If food could magically transfer, nobody would starve in the world. You're just jealous he's making money from streaming." Afterward, Daniel's every live stream triggers another pancreatitis episode, sending me back to the ER until I'm barely holding on. I get tested, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong. They even want to admit me to psych. Later, in a desperate bid to outdo another streamer, Daniel downs ten pounds of mashed potatoes at once. The overload destroys my spleen and stomach, causing massive internal bleeding that kills me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of Daniel's very first live stream. This time, I rush out and order 20 takeout dishes before him. "This time, I'm eating first."

At the award-giving ceremony of the end-of-the-year gala, my boss, George White, suddenly announces that he will be adding a bonus round on a whim. "This is the annual department evaluation! The department that comes last shall come onto the stage and receive a tiny encouragement from me!" The huge screen lights up at that moment. The sales achievements accumulated by all departments are being shown in a ranking system. The sales department is ranked first. The operations department comes second, and the marketing department gets third place. As for the administrative department, the sales achievements shown on the screen are none. After all, that department has no KPI to achieve at all. George beams at us from the administrative department. "Everyone from the administrative department, come on up and receive your prize!" Two people can be seen carrying a basket of brooms up the stage. Everyone bursts into laughter instantly. "Come now, sweep away your bad luck with the brooms! Try not to come up as the bottom-ranked department again next year!" George personally thrusts the brooms into our hands. Camera flashes go off beneath the stage—people are clearly taking photos of us. The people from the sales department are the ones laughing the hardest. "Finally, the peeps from the administrative department are getting the recognition they deserve!"

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

Every year, my wife, Jessica Lowe, prepares a huge surprise for me on our wedding anniversary. On the night of our tenth anniversary, she enters the banquet hall with a scantily-dressed male model. She demands that I take off my suit and put it on him instead. I refuse and take out a divorce agreement. In retaliation, Jessica slaps a thick stack of photos onto the table. The photos show me at my most humiliated, shameful, and pathetic moments. She sneers, "Michael Jefferson, you talk about divorce all the time. But each time, you always end up crawling back to me with your tail between your legs, begging me to take you back. "Tell me, what will your comatose mother think if these pictures of you get out? Will she finally wake up in the hospital from shame and embarrassment?" However, Jessica doesn't know that my mother, Eleanor Brown, passed away months ago.

Silas Jordan drew lots, which resulted in me being chosen as his wife. He hated me for getting his childhood sweetheart killed. Hence, he tortured me to death. But after I died, deep remorse overwhelmed him. After I returned to the past, I first rigged the lottery to help him get together with his childhood lover. However, there were endless new comments on the screen. They were from readers of the novel I was trapped in. [Based on the plot, the male lead will pick the female lead. Then, the male lead’s childhood lover will kill herself. When the female lead gets tortured to death, the male lead starts regretting it. But why would this miserable novel change when the female lead rigged the lottery?] It was because I no longer wished to marry him again.

At another Sunday dinner at the Bellandi estate, Luca Bellandi's assistant, Ava Marino, was sitting in my seat. It was the first chair to Luca's right at the long walnut table, the seat everyone in Chicago's underworld knew belonged to Mrs. Bellandi. Ava sat there as if she had been born into it, her pale wrist brushing Luca's sleeve while she poured his wine. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. "She's in my seat. You don't have anything to say?" Luca raised his eyes. "You were late. Don't blame someone else for sitting down first. There are empty chairs over there. Sit if you want. If not, get out." The dining room went dead quiet, and before I could answer, his thoughts slipped into my ears. [Vivi, don't go. Come sit beside me. Tell them it's your seat. Tell me you still want to be my wife.] [Please get mad. Please care. Say you need me, and I'll give you the whole world.] In the past, those soft, trembling thoughts would have been enough. I would've swallowed the insult and stayed beside him like a loyal dog that didn't know when to leave. This time, I didn't. I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and laid it on the table. "If the Bellandi family can't even keep a wife's seat for me, then I guess this family doesn't need a wife anymore. Luca, let's get divorced."

The entire ward could hear the thoughts of the beautiful intern nurse, Sonya Row. When a patient kept vomiting nonstop, and I suggested increasing the pain medication, she stood nearby, sighing. [What should I do? Should I tell the family this painkiller can be addictive and really bad for the body? If they just wait a few more minutes, he'll recover on his own. There's no need to spend money at all.] The room fell silent in an instant. Everyone's gaze shifted toward me, and the family quietly refused my treatment plan. After that, I became the joke of the entire department. Every patient specifically asked not to be assigned to me. Later, while comforting a terminal stomach cancer patient, I followed her family's wishes and lied, saying it was just gastritis. Sonya complained about it in her thoughts. [The patient's practically dying already, but she's still saying she can be cured. It's obviously just to trick this old woman into draining her life savings on treatment.] That night, the old lady jumped off the building so she wouldn't burden her family. Her family thought I had revealed the truth and driven her to her death. They reported me directly to the hospital director, and I was stripped of my position as department head. Then, on a holiday weekend, the hospital admitted a pregnant woman with a suspected amniotic fluid embolism. To save her life, I had no choice but to remove her uterus. At that moment, Sonya's thoughts rang out again. [She doesn't have an amniotic fluid embolism at all. She was on her phone during surgery, which caused this. Now look what happened. This baby's a girl. This family wanted a son, and now they'll never get one.] The family attacked me on the spot, recorded it, and posted the video online to harass me. The desperate husband, obsessed with having a son, stabbed me to death to vent his rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Sonya first revealed her thoughts. This time, I could hear her thoughts, too.

News of a wedding in Nordica's top power family lit up the world. But at the rehearsal, I caught my fiancée, Ivette Bianchi, making out with her childhood sweetheart, Jerick Weiner. "Babe, we've been in love forever. Let me use your first-time blood as pigment for my art?" Ivette blushed, hesitated— Jerick didn't wait. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her. "My best piece needs that color," he whispered. "I want this painting to end our youth." I watched them twisted together, ice-cold. Dropped the ring. It clattered across the floor. "Go through with the ceremony," I said. "Or your family goes broke." She stiffened, shoved Jerick off, and spat, "Fine." Then she turned right back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him inside. "It's just a bachelorette party. I won't miss the rehearsal." The door slammed. I didn't react. I was done. I made the call. "Change the bride. And yeah—the Bianchis crossed the line first. I want them erased."

My mom decides to implement an income-based rationing system. Everything at home is delegated to everyone based on their income. At a holiday dinner, I decide to grab myself an extra helping of pasta. As soon as I fill up my plate, my mom snatches it from my hands. "Hold on. Just look at the spread on the table. The sea bass is already worth 180 dollars. The scallops are worth 200, whereas the lobster goes for 300 dollars. "You only earn 3,000 dollars per month. If you want a second serving, you must pay up first. I'll charge you based on the family rate. It'll be three dollars, thank you very much." My mom sticks out three fingers while smiling at me.

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

Through the bond that tied my wolf to his, I sent ninety-nine screams for help. The hundredth time, he answered—distant, distracted. "Seraphine, I'm occupied. Stop whining like a needy pup." I lay in an ice crevice, our pup suffocating in my womb, while he hunted beneath the full moon with another. Five days later, I woke in a healing den. Through the wall, I heard my mate—my Alpha—speaking of me like livestock. "Keep her under until Lysandra whelps," Leon growled to the shaman. "If she learns I drained our pup for that she-wolf's marrow, I'll have your tongue. And if you fail me—I'll burn your den to ash." I touched the mating mark burning on my throat and reached for the crystal. My voice didn't tremble. "Harris. Prepare the severance scroll. I want his signature before the moon wanes." The she-wolf who loved her Alpha died in that ravine. The one who clawed out will make him howl.

The day I was released from prison was New Year's Eve. My fiancée had promised to pick me up. Instead, she was busy ringing in the New Year with the man she had always loved. By the time I found my way back home from memory, she was in the middle of a cheering crowd, wrapped in his arms. "Nancy, Samuel's getting out today. Aren't you going to pick him up?" someone asked. Nancy Wheeler let out a soft laugh, her red lips curling slightly. "Pick him up? What's more important, him or New Year's? He's been in there for years. One more day won't kill him." "Aren't you afraid he'll be angry?" Colder than the wind and snow outside were Nancy's indifferent words. "He's the one who made a mistake. What right does he have to be angry? The fact that I was still willing to be with him was already a mercy." As the words left her mouth, she lifted her gaze, only to meet mine. The smile froze on her face. The cold light from inside fell across me, and something in my heart froze with it. She said she was still willing to have me. However, I no longer wanted her.

When I get reborn, I quietly change the name of the man I want to marry the most to the hedonistic playboy in the neighborhood. My dad, who's a political officer, is quite surprised to see the change, but he still accepts my choice. In my previous life, when Dad asked me who I liked the most among the young men of the military housing office, I uttered Judd Garrison's name with scarlet cheeks. Dad nodded. "Judd is your childhood friend, not to mention our families are compatible in terms of social standing and wealth. You two have grown up together since you were kids, so I believe he will treat you well." Later on, Judd and I got engaged and married. Our wedding was a fancy and high-profile one to the point that even the political leader gave us his blessings. But Judd was quick to submit an application to help defend the border half a year into our marriage. He claimed that he wanted to contribute to the country with his efforts. Not only did he abandon me, leaving me to take care of my in-laws on my own, but he also cut off contact with me when Dad was falsely accused of being corrupted. Just as I thought I couldn't function anymore after suffering from the pain wrought upon me by Dad's death, I received the tragic news that Judd had died in a mountain flood as well. Thanks to the devastation caused by both pieces of bad news, I ended up taking my own life by hanging myself. What I didn't expect was that a gray-haired, elderly couple would visit my grave to pay respects to me 40 years after my death. Judd, who should've been dead, had an arm wrapped around my cousin, Megan Whitlock, as they stood before my grave. "It's my fault for faking my death and lying to you, Julie. Back then, I had to marry you in order to fulfill my parents' request. Megan has always been the woman that I truly love. "This is all my fault, Julie. I just hope that you can stop pestering Megan from now on. If you really are resentful, you're free to direct your resentment at me." To think that they loved each other to this extent… Judd was willing to give up on his identity and fake his death in order to get out of his life with me so that he could stay with Megan forever. He even clung to the superstition that my postmortem resentment was the reason behind Megan's cancer. Having found out about the truth, I let go of my obsession and faded into nothing. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Dad asks me who I like the most.

On our engagement day, my fiancee, Lucille Perry, had her childhood best friend, Derek Miller, show up with a box of handmade cookies as a gift. Out of basic courtesy, I picked one up and took a bite. Derek and a few of his buddies burst out laughing. "This mama's boy can't even recognize his own mother's ashes!" My stomach churned violently. Shocked and furious, I lunged at him to throw a punch, but Lucille desperately held me back. Derek looked at me smugly and grinned. "Since you already ate it, why don't you tell everyone how your mom tastes?" I was so angry that I kicked him right in the face. However, Lucille turned around and slapped me hard across the cheek. "Spencer Bourdain, is this really necessary? Can't you take a joke? Eating a little bit of ashes won't kill you. Look at how petty you're being!" My heart went completely numb. I quietly pulled out my phone and sent a message to a certain number. [The wedding reception is ready. All we need now is you, the bride-to-be.]

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

In a world where the Goddess’s power has been shattered and the wolves silenced, Sena Duneshadow, a young Mute Wolf, is thrust into a destiny that could reshape everything. For centuries, the Temple has kept the wolves under its control, severing their connection to the Goddess and enslaving them in silence. But when Sena discovers she is the Moonmarker, the key to restoring the Goddess’s power, everything changes. With the first fragment of the Moonmark in her hands, Sena becomes the symbol of a revolution. Alongside Caelum Ashveil, a fallen Battle-Priest with a past as shattered as her own, she rallies the oppressed and the forgotten, leading them in a battle for freedom against the Temple’s unyielding grip. As she embraces the power within her, Sena must learn to control her abilities, balance her emotions, and face the devastating truth that the curse placed upon her people runs deeper than she could ever imagine. In this epic tale of rebellion, self-discovery, and transformation, Sena must fight not only for her people’s freedom but for the very soul of the Goddess herself. The Starfire ignites, and with it, the dawn of a new era—one where the wolves are no longer slaves, and their voices will be heard once more.