Short Stories & Novels

As floodwaters rushed into the garage, I called my boyfriend. "Wade, help me... I'm trapped in here! The emergency exit's locked!" He sounded annoyed. "Tia, stop. Mandy's cat is stuck in a tree—we're handling it!" Then he hung up, taking the rescue team with him. My last hope was gone.

My friend introduced me to an online card game. I won 150 thousand dollars in only one night. The hot female dealer contacted me privately. “Mister, you can give me a video call when you top up to a certain amount. Plus, there’s an extra benefit. You can do whatever you want with me.”

My sister, Anna Hawkins, and I are twins, but I'm slightly heavier than her when we were born. Anna has always been weak and sickly since young, whereas I'm always active and healthy. When Anna was four years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Mom blamed me for stealing Anna's nutrients when I got born, so I needed to return the nutrients to her. When I got my blood extracted for the first time, a thick syringe was used on me. I was so scared when I saw it. Mom told me not to be scared. She gave me a magical pen, stating that whatever wish I wrote down with the pen would come true. I wrote, "It won't hurt." When the syringe was plunged into my arm again, Mom bought me a sweet lollipop. The pain never struck me again afterward. When I was five years old, I drew a strawberry cake on the paper while getting 1000cc blood withdrawn from me. That week, Anna could sit up in bed and play on her own. When I turned seven years old, I wrote down my wish that I'd like to go on a vacation. The next day, I was sent into the operating theater for the doctors to collect my hematopoietic cells. For the first time ever, Anna's cheeks became rosy. When I was eight years old, I wrote that I wanted to become the top student of my grade. But a day before my exams, my bone marrow was drawn from me. Anna finally got discharged by the hospital. She got to wear new dresses that I never got to wear. In the year I turn nine years old, my body is heavily depleted. With a trembling hand, I can only write down a line in messy handwriting. "I hope… that I won't become Mom's daughter in my next life."

On our anniversary, my husband, James Marshall, purchased a painting as a gift for me with my secondary credit card. When I got home, I went to my study to retrieve an urgent court document. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the flirtatious voice of my assistant, Julie Summers, mingled with my husband’s low murmurs. “James, your wife is just a money-printing machine. What does she know about art? She could never appreciate you like I do.” James sighed. Then, in an indulgent tone, he said, “Claire is too perfect—so perfect it’s suffocating. Not like you, full of life and warmth.” Just then, my mother-in-law, Susan Marshall, called James. He put her on speakerphone. “James, you need to move faster. While Claire still trusts you, turn all her client contacts into yours. That Julie girl seems promising. She’s much easier to control than that iron-fisted career wife of yours.” I gripped the cold doorknob, listening to the pair of shameless lovers in the study and the wretched woman on the phone, and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I forwarded asset-protection filings for all my holdings to my legal team. “I’ll see you all in court, parasites.”

My usually cold and distant wife shared a bowl of soup with her newly joined colleague. Surprisingly, I felt calm, even as I brought up divorce. She sneered at me, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm exhausted. He's just a colleague of mine." "Even if we're married, you have no right to interfere with what I do with my colleagues." "If that's what you think, then I can't help you." When I actually put the divorce papers in front of her, she flew into a rage. "Ryan, do you think the Wagners were still what they used to be? You're nothing without me!"

"I agree to the divorce," I said as I dialed my mother-in-law's number. "Matteo Bellandi will never agree to divorce me, so you need to arrange a new identity for me. I need to disappear completely. He must never find me." Despite six years of marriage, I never conceived a child. In the Mafia world, how many men remarried for the sake of an heir? Yet Matteo always stood firmly at my side. To have a child, we tried everything—ninety-nine rounds of IVF that resulted in ninety-eight failures. The final pregnancy ended in fetal demise. Matteo held me and said, "Whether we have a child or not, I will always love you." Everyone said he was deeply devoted and that I was fortunate. Even I believed it. I believed it was my body that was defective. I believed I was the one holding him back. Until that day, when I went to the hospital for a follow-up exam. I saw him with my own eyes, pushing a mobile hospital bed into a VIP suite. On the bed lay a young woman named Sienna Vale, who had just given birth, holding a pair of twins—a boy and a girl. The congratulations inside the room were sharp and piercing. They praised his good fortune and Sienna's superior genes. They said the children were born to inherit the Bellandi empire. They mocked my education and my background and said I could not produce a "high-quality" heir. "Who do you think you are, daring to speak about her? My wife is not someone you get to judge. If I hear one more word of disrespect toward my Donna, you'd better weigh the consequences yourself," Matteo rebuked them coldly, preserving my dignity as Donna. In that moment, I finally understood that the marriage I had been so proud of was nothing more than a joke in everyone else's eyes. If that was the case, I would end this love story everyone envied with my own hands.

On the day I found out I was dying, Evan Buck, my husband, came home with a “dating contract” he had signed with his assistant, Cherry Mello. “She threatened to kill herself if I didn’t agree to date her for three months.” He continued with a sincere gaze. “But don’t worry. It’s just indulging a young girl’s wish. You’re the one I love. I promise you, after three months, she’ll resign, and we’ll never hear from her again.” I knew that when Evan made up his mind, there was no talking him out of it. Just like how I had long seen the unmistakable longing in Cherry’s eyes when she looked at him. However, he said I was overthinking and refused to dismiss her. Looking at the man I had loved for ten years before me, I quietly slipped the terminal diagnosis behind my back. Three months. What a coincidence. That was exactly how much time I had left.

When I found out I was pregnant, I immediately went to buy abortion pills. When I decided to take the pills, I could hear my unborn son’s heartbeat. [Mom, please don’t abort me! I can bring you fortune!] [My dad is super rich. He loves simping and chasing women.] [He goes after innocent and strong-willed women. He gives away gifts freely, but the women usually would throw them away. I know where these thrown away gifts are!] I thought I must be crazy. I hurriedly swallowed the pills and drank water. [Several hundred grams of gold! The latest handphone! Tens of millions of jewelry! What’s more…] I gagged and spat out the pills into the trashbin next to my feet. “Where are they? Tell me now!"

Three years after my death, my wife’s first love was hanging onto life by a thread, and only my system could save him. To force me to show up, she cut off my father’s medical payments. My sick mother was forced to beg her out in the summer heat until she collapsed. She even threw my beloved little sister into a bonfire to be eaten up by the flames. As she waited for me to show up, apologize to her, and use the system to save her first love, my sister finally stopped hiding the truth. “He died three years ago! Three years ago, he traded his life so you would survive that car crash!”

The day I finally got the witch's potion to heal his wolf, I threw my arms around Ethan, trembling with excitement. "Your wolf can be healed. We can finally be together. Really together!" He clicked his tongue. "That eager to be marked?" I froze. What does that mean? Then laughter exploded from his phone. A group call, speaker on. "Ethan, she's even dumber than we thought! She actually went and found a cure so she could marry you. Just mark her already—she's desperate!" "Even if his wolf gets fixed, Sera's the one who deserves to be Luna. A pureblood, not some bastard whose mom slept her way into the family. How does she deserve to marry an Alpha?" Alpha? Luna? I stared at the man in front of me, the one who'd always seemed so fragile, whose wolf was supposedly so faint it could barely be sensed. He was the Alpha heir of our pack. And Sera was the stepsister who'd been bullying and tormenting me since middle school. Three years. All Ethan had to do was take a few scent-suppressing pills, and I'd fallen for every word. Everything he'd done was to keep Sera happy.

After Uncle Frank and Aunt Gina died, my older cousin, Izzy Kramer, moved in with my family. To make up for the fact that she has lost her parents, everything she has is hers and hers alone. I'm not allowed to even think about touching them. Summer comes along, and my parents get Izzy a brand new bathtub. I happen to glance at it for just a second longer, and Izzy immediately breaks into tears. "If you want all of these things, Melanie, go ahead and take them! I just want my parents back!" Mom and Dad are furious, and Mom storms over to slap me. "Why are you acting like such a spoiled child? What, have you never seen a bathtub before? Why do you keep staring at Izzy's bathtub, huh?" My cheek stings. Ever since then, I've grown too scared to even look at any of Izzy's things. One day, Izzy invites me to have a soak in her bathtub. Thrilled, I carefully step into the water, but it's not as warm as I expected. In fact, the icy water instinctively gives me the urge to draw backward, but Izzy gives me a hard shove from behind. She swiftly locks the bathroom door shut after. "Since you like eyeing other people's things so much, you jealous brat, I'll make sure you have a nice long soak in the tub this time!" Having lost my footing when she shoved me, I bash my head against the side of the bathtub. I feel something warm trickling down my forehead, but that sensation is quickly replaced by the icy water that surrounds me. I don't know how much time passed, but eventually, I find myself hovering in the air. I hear Izzy's voice coming from the other side of the door. She complains to my parents, "Uncle James! Aunt Louise! Melanie snuck into the bathroom to use my bathtub!"

Stanley Porter, my wife Jessica Evans’ close male friend, and I are both competing to be the next fire captain. In my first lifetime, I was chosen by a unanimous vote. On my very first night on duty as captain, Jessica came over to the fire station to celebrate with me. Sticking to my duties as captain, I didn't touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, after drinking the chicken soup Jessica gave me, I fell into a deep sleep. That night, a massive fire broke out in the old district, resulting in the deaths of 58 people. Because I missed the station's alarm, I was accused of dereliction of duty and labeled as the main person responsible for the tragedy. The enraged families of the victims ended up beating me to death. In my second lifetime, I withdrew my name from the selection for captain. I handed the badge over to Stanley instead, saying, "You're better suited to be captain than I am." I'd assumed that this was enough to ensure that the fire couldn't be pinned on me. Yet, when the authorities looked into the fire, they ended up seeing me appear in the security footage from where the fire began. Everyone assumed I'd deliberately started the fire to get back at Stanley out of jealousy for losing out on the captain position. I now open my eyes again to live my third life. I watch as Stanley excitedly gives his speech on the podium after being made the captain. This time around, I submit a request for annual leave and take a cab straight to the airport.

My wife’s new assistant recently celebrated his birthday, and she splurged on a villa as a gift to him. On the day he moved in, the assistant, Zachary Shaw, bragged on Instagram with a post and captioned: [Bagged myself a sugar mommy, just FYI.] My wife, Ivy Bennett, commented on the post: [Happy birthday, my dear Zacky! 🫰] The photo was Zachary wrapping his arm around my wife’s slender waist, looking incredibly intimate. The work group chat blew up at once. Everyone expressed their envy toward Zachary, singing his praises for being so promising at such a young age. Then, my childhood friend, Autumn Sinclair, tagged me in the group chat and teased, [Love is a blinding green light. Your wife’s cheating on you so hard it glows. Congrats, Julian!] I smiled wryly and stubbed out my cigarette. Slowly, I typed my reply, [Want a house, Autumn? I’ll get you one too, better than her gift to him.]

I am the eldest son of the prestigious Swain family in the capital. To test Snow Wardle's sincerity, I hid my identity and started from the bottom alongside her. Five years later, upon my return to the country, I was confronted by her lover, Chad Foreman, at a mall called "JesseSnow" which was named after me. Chad forced me to kneel and lick his boots and even asked his lackeys to beat me and my nanny, May. When Snow showed up, not only did she refuse to apologize, she defended Chad. She even cut off my finances and had her lawyer file a lawsuit against me for damages. I could not hold back any longer and called in the power of the Swain family. When the truth was revealed, Snow grovelled for mercy, but she could not mask her greedy nature. In the end, I reclaimed everything and made the traitors pay the price. I finally realized that this misplaced love needed to end, once and for all.

I had not asked my mother for money in three months. She thought I had finally learned to be a good, obedient son and, in a rare act of mercy, sent me a message. "I already had Calvin pay the registration fee. Learn to be more sensible from now on. Stop thinking about scamming money from the family. "I know your dad is having a hard time right now, but since you chose to stay with me, you need to be on the same side as me." When she said this, she did not yet know that I had already transferred my in-state residency out. No one believed that I, Miles Hart, who appeared on the surface to be the young master of a wealthy family, had a closet filled entirely with clothes bought before my parents’ divorce. For three full years, there was not a single new piece of clothing. Every dollar I spent privately had to be submitted through an internal approval system, with a written application and justification. Even fees for school activities required screenshots of official notices and formal quotations. All expenses had to pass the review of my stepfather, Calvin Pierce. Just because my mother constantly suspected I was siding with my father and was afraid I would secretly funnel money to him. A month ago, I needed $500 for a math competition registration fee. Calvin rejected the request again and again. "There isn't enough justification. "Why do you have to participate in this competition? "Wait until the end of the month for unified approval." By the time approval finally came through, the registration window had already closed. Mom did not know that I had endured these three years for only one reason: an in-state residency, which would make college admissions easier. Now, I was officially recommended for admission to a top university. This family was no longer a place I needed to stay in.

In my previous life, my parents made me choose a bride from the three most powerful families in the capital. I did not hesitate. I chose the one I loved most: Holly Smith. However, on our wedding day, she died in a car accident on her way to the hotel. The Smith family was devastated. Though they did not dare blame my family, I was consumed with guilt. I transferred all my assets and shares to them without hesitation. Twenty years later, while on a business trip overseas, I saw Holly, alive, locked in a passionate kiss with my former best man on the street. The other two heiresses stood nearby, watching with envy. "Faking your death for twenty years just to end up with your true love? Worth it," one of them said. "And Hayden, that pathetic lapdog, stayed faithful to you all this time. What a joke." I lost control and rushed over to confront them, but Holly had people waiting. They dragged me into a pickup truck and beat me half to death. With a twisted smile, she sneered, "You've got some nerve showing up here. "You wanted me so badly back then that you had Jack beaten, he almost lost his memory and forgot about me! "Since you came all this way, I'll make sure you experience what it feels like to wish you were dead." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my parents asked me to choose my bride. I pointed to the maid's daughter standing in the corner. "I'll take her."

Susanne Doyle, my wife who's a general manager, often travels to Havenport on business trips. When she comes home, she either has cuts on her mouth or bruises on her thighs. Whenever I ask her about those injuries, she always claims that she accidentally tripped and fell after getting drunk. On our third wedding anniversary, I find out that Susanne has already formed another family in Havenport. At the moment, she's nestling into another man's arms, looking very alluring and seductive. A few of her mentees sit around her and her beau as they start cheering on them. "Now that your fiance has accepted your marriage proposal, does that mean you're about to buy strawberry donuts to celebrate this occasion tonight, Susanne?" The moment I hear the words "marriage proposal", I feel thunderstruck. Susanne begins making out passionately with her new fiance, Stanley Quinn, the next moment. As I watch the loving scene unfold before my eyes, I feel as though my heart has just gotten dunked into icy waters. At the doorway, I happen to bump into Stanley, the very same man who had embraced Susanne earlier. With Susanne's mentees flanking behind him, he drags me into the washroom before punching me in the face. "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you ogle my fiancee! Are you the one who has been harassing her through text messages? "Here's a warning for you—Susanne is my lover! If I ever see you trying to pull any tricks on her, I'll show you a world of pain!" Stanley then waves a hand. The other mentees begin roughing me up with punches and kicks. "This is just a small warning for you." He doesn't know that I'm Susanne's legal husband, much less the fact that I'm the sole reason behind her ability to snag the position as the general manager.

An intern named Maxim Barker has joined the company. When he's in the middle of his self-introduction, I see a bunch of comments suddenly popping up in front of my eyes. "Holy shit, Maxim is finally here! Soon, Charmaine will be reunited with him. She'll then ditch William just to be with Maxim again!" "William, don't you dare start anything now! You'd better go along with Maxim's flow and help him get back together with Charmaine!" "That's right! If William stops the plot from progressing, he'll face dire consequences! He can only survive by relying on Maxim!" As soon as Maxim is done with his introduction, he walks over to my desk and picks up the document I'm about to hand in to my girlfriend, Charmaine Fitzpatrick, who works as a manager. "Let me pass the document to the manager." But as soon as Maxim enters Charmaine's office, he gets thrown out immediately. "Get the hell out of my office! Not everyone is allowed to enter my office, you know!"

After the young officer Edward Shaw took first place in a high-profile shooting exhibition attended by senior officials, his family adopted a rather peculiar tradition. At the annual family banquet, he would perform a blindfolded shooting. Whichever woman's token his bullet struck was taken as a sign that she would become his fiancée. Determined to marry him, I placed the handkerchief I had carefully chosen as close to him as possible. Yet, for three consecutive years, his shots hit nothing at all. I told myself the handkerchief must have been too light, too easy to miss. So each year, I replaced it with something more refined, more eye-catching than before. That illusion lasted until the night before my eighteenth birthday, when I happened to overhear him speaking with a friend at a reception. "Miss Jasmine's handkerchief is right in front. Even blindfolded, you should be able to hit it. How do you keep missing every year?" Edward swirled his glass, his tone casual. "Tracy's still young. The moment she hears I'm getting engaged, she starts crying. "I promised I'd wait until she's a little older. As for Jasmine, she's waited for me all these years. It's not like she's going anywhere." With that, he casually tossed his glass into a metal bucket in the corner. It rang out with a sharp, hollow clang. I lowered my gaze and thought of my younger sister, only a year younger than me. So it had never been about the token. It was about the person who placed it there. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on. After all, my father had already arranged a marriage for me. Three days later, at that same family banquet, I would be formally engaged.

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".