Short Stories & Novels

On the day of our wedding, Hansel Lennox's childhood sweetheart, Nara Sullivan, threatens to jump off a building. He ignores her and proceeds with the wedding. Then, he panics when she really jumps off the building. From then on, he goes to the church more and more often, turning into a pious believer. He even forces me to copy scripture and kneel while praying in the name of repenting for my sins. He makes me lose my child. The day I miscarry, I ask him for a divorce. However, he says we both owe Nara this, so we have to repent together. He uses my family to threaten me and keep me by his side. I waste my whole life for his sake. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to our wedding day. This time, I'm going to push Hansel to Nara. I want to be the one who forces him to convert.

On New Year’s Eve, I was working overtime at a mall. Then, I saw my girlfriend rent out the mall’s largest digital billboard to pressure a poor student into marrying her. I was about to go over and question them when the poor student responded emotionally, “Getting confessed to in my family’s mall is so romantic and meaningful.” “Silly boy. I’ve loved you for five years. Of course, I was going to propose. So, marry me, okay?” Then, they kissed passionately amid a chorus of cheers. They even won the mall’s Best Couple award that night. I smiled bitterly and volunteered to present the award to them. I wanted to see just what would happen when trash found trash.

Starla Xander was orphaned at a young age. With both her parents gone, it was her uncle, Xavier Lloyd, who rescued her from that hopeless home. For over a decade, he had cherished her, shielding her from the world, treating her like the most precious gem in his life. And so, inevitably, she fell in love with him. She truly believed he loved her too. She thought that one day, they would get married and build a future together. But when Starla finally confessed her feelings, Xavier reacted as if she had crossed an unforgivable line. “Starla, I’m your uncle. Get rid of those disgusting thoughts!” And that wasn’t even the cruelest part. He chose the most brutal way to reject her. On the twelfth anniversary of the day they met, he stood before her with a beautiful woman by his side. He met Starla’s eyes and said, “Meet her. She’s your future aunt-in-law.” As she watched them standing together—so effortlessly close—something inside her shattered. She let out a soft, bitter laugh. “I understand now.” Without another word, she turned away, pulled out her phone, and called her research mentor. “Professor Zimmer, I’ve made my decision. I agree to the cryogenic preservation procedure.”

My family was the wealthiest in River City, with assets worth trillions. On my eighteenth birthday, my brother, Calvin Chester, gifted me an entire jewelry production line while my parents built a private museum and named it after me. The greatest hardship I’d ever faced? Learning how to spend my inheritance. Then I met Dario Darwin. For him, I cut ties with my family and helped him build his empire from scratch. But when I was three months pregnant, he demanded I drink on behalf of his assistant, Fran Fallon, a woman “slumming it” as an intern while secretly being the heiress to another fortune. “Stop pretending,” he sneered. “You’re not like Fran, raised in pampered luxury. You’re older, so act like it and take care of your juniors!” Then, to the clients leering around the table, “My wife’s just being dramatic. She can hold her liquor. Don’t hold back—pour her another!” Amid their jeers, he left with Fran, abandoning me to a room of drunken men. Years of sacrifice, only to be humiliated. I scheduled an abortion and called him. “We’re done.” Through the phone, Fran’s simpering voice chimed in, “It’s my fault that Clea is upset… I should quit and go home to my family’s billions.” “Ignore her. She’s faking it,” Dario cooed back. On the day Dario signed the divorce papers, my parents and Calvin came to take me home. Our marriage came to an end, but his tragedy was about to begin.

At my son's tenth birthday, I unexpectedly gained the power to read minds. Standing before the candles, he made his wish. "I hope I score a hundred on my finals." Before I could commend his maturity, a second wish slammed into my ears. "I don't like Dad. I want Mr. Shaw to be my dad.'' My hands froze halfway through a clap.

After the final monthly exam of senior year, my class gathers at a karaoke lounge to celebrate. Halfway through the party, in the restroom, I receive a mysterious video from Giselle Morris, supposedly from ten years later. Giselle and I have grown up together, and I've had a crush on her for 5 years. In the video, she stands in a wedding dress, her smile gentle and content. "Chris, I'm getting married to Spencer." Then, Spencer York, the most popular guy in our class, appears beside her. Their fingers intertwine as he smiles at the camera. "I hope you find your own true love soon." The screen goes black, leaving me staring at my own tear-filled reflection. After washing my face, I return to the karaoke room. The moment I walk in, the entire class turns toward me. "I told you all he'd cry," Spencer says triumphantly into the microphone. Everyone bursts into laughter. Giselle frowns, stands up, and shoots everyone a cold glance. "Enough." She walks up to me, her voice uneasy. "Spencer asked me to record that video. He improved a lot on this exam, so this was his reward. Don't take it seriously." From behind her, Spencer teases, "Yeah, it was just a joke. Surely, you can take one. Right?" I stand frozen, looking at the face that I've spent five years thinking about, and eventually say nothing. The video is indeed a joke, but little do they know that Giselle and Spencer will actually get married ten years later. And how do I know? Well, I've just come back from the future.

Lucas Fenrir was the son of the Alpha of the Silvertail Pack, born as the pack's greatest pride. When his Luna and first love, Nara Boris, chose to leave, he married me in a fit of rage—the most unremarkable Omega in the pack. Everyone said I was just a substitute for Nara. They were waiting to see me abandoned, to see me cry, and to see me beg on my knees. Nonetheless, I always smiled and calmly fulfilled Lucas' every demand. I helped him stabilize the pack's morale, stood up for him in public, and even defended him against the rumors that he had rekindled his past romance with Nara. Until one day, I saw him on the streets during the Moon Goddess Festival. He was holding Nara, kissing her deeply. Meanwhile, I simply turned my head away in silence from behind the crowd and pretended I saw nothing. A few months later, I was diagnosed with wolfsbane poisoning that had spread to my nervous system. My condition was beyond saving. I was admitted to the ICU of the pack's hospital, with only a few days left to live. Lucas came when he heard the news. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared and grabbed my dying body. "Why didn't you tell me? Why are you trying to die alone in secret?" I looked at his unhinged expression, my gaze as gentle as it had always been. There was even a faint mocking smile curling at my lips. "Lucas, I've never loved you. "The one I loved… was actually your twin brother—Derrick."

I bought a fox fae. The owner of Vulpyr Hall had been very clear. He was only here to help me get rich, nothing else. A year later, my assets had skyrocketed to a billion. But… Wasn’t he supposed to stay out of anything intimate? Why did it feel like he wanted to get under my skin?

My mom gets buzzed at the family dinner and insists on burning my admission letter. She says, "You're a guy, and yet you can't get into Horvard University! What makes you think you can study at any university now? You might as well quit studying altogether!" I try to stop her from doing so, only for my dad to stop me instead. "It's just a stupid scrap of paper. Don't put a damper on your mom's mood, now. Can't you just retake the college admission exam?" Just like that, my fruit of labor gets burned to ashes. When I'm studying for the exam again, Mom keeps inviting people home for drinks. All I do is utter one complaint, and I get beaten to death by her drinking buddies. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the family dinner. This time, I've swapped out my admission letter to the IOU her boss has told her to safeguard. Go ahead and burn it. Two years later, I'll be sure to visit you at your grave, Mom.

I'd been married to Joshua Merck for five years, but we still didn't have kids. To stay healthy, I took those pricey custom vitamins he ordered from overseas—never missed a dose. Then my cousin came back from studying abroad, took one look at the bottle, and was like, "That brand doesn't even make custom vitamins." I sent them to the hospital for testing. The lab report hit me like a truck—birth control pills. Powerful ones. Suddenly, all those mornings with Joshua hovering over me, acting so concerned while I took my "vitamins," made sense. The whole thing had been a lie. Five years of lies. Just as I was gearing up to confront him, my phone buzzed—a group chat notification. Shirley Hoare had tagged Joshua. [Honey, I had a prenatal checkup today, and the doctor said I'm carrying twins! Your family's about to get two grandchildren at once—excited?] My heart turned to ash. Everything clicked. Fine. We were done. I pulled out my phone and replied to my childhood sweetheart's message from three days ago: [After watching the northern lights, I still wanted to see penguins in Antarctica.]

Matteo Cassimo and I are childhood sweethearts. But he gets assassinated on the day before our wedding. I cry my heart out in front of his grave to the point I faint from exhaustion. When I wake up again, I see a few live comments crossing my vision. "Poor Annie… She's still kept in the dark about the truth." "Seriously, Annie believes everything Matteo tells her. Serves her right for getting duped by Matteo's fake death." "Can someone please tell Annie that Matteo fakes his death to get rid of her, because his mistress finds out he's about to get married and decides to secretly leave him? I bet those two are being lovey-dovey with each other right now!" "Forget about it. Annie has nothing but blind trust in Matteo, after all. Maybe when he finally comes back from the 'dead,' she'll marry him happily again." One month later, the news headlines all over the papers are filled with the explosive news of the impending marriage between me and the heir of the Valente family, William Valente. That's when Matteo's subordinate confronts me. "Our Don has just passed away recently, and yet you're already planning to marry someone else?" I merely chuckle icily in return. "So what if I am? I can't just be a widow at such a young age now, can I?"

The first time I have an affair, it's with my wife, Josephine Yates' best friend, Lydia Bennett. When Josephine catches us red-handed in bed, I'm in the middle of enjoying myself, my cheeks insanely flushed. Josephine gets into a huge fight with Lydia afterward. Then, she proceeds to drink her sorrows away that night before choosing to forgive me. After we've patched things up, we grow even more lovey-dovey than when we first got married. In fact, we're known as the golden couple who are envied by all. That is, when Josephine catches me cheating on her again on our tenth year anniversary. This time, I'm sleeping with Victoria Fairfax, the senior whom Josephine admires and respects the most. Josephine is so furious that she almost suffers from a seizure on the spot. Having gone batshit crazy, she decides to commit joint suicide with Victoria. I can only sigh before pulling her into my arms. "This is my last time doing this. I promise that you're the only one I want to be with for the rest of my life." Josephine is in so much pain and agony that she's on the brink of despair. Still, she believes my words and treats me even better now. She showers me with lavish gifts, be it luxury watches, unique custom-fitted apparel, or limited-edition racing cars. As long as she can afford it, she'll strive to give me the best. Some people call me a freeloading husband. That night, Josephine makes sure that those people have vanished off the face of the earth. When I tell Josephine that I don't want children, she gets her tubes tied immediately. Everyone praises Josephine for being devoted. They also claim that I've married the right woman. I just smile and nod. "I've used up all of my luck to meet Josephine in my life." But on Josephine's 34th birthday, she spies a paternity test report on my desk. That's when she suffers from a complete mental breakdown. The child is mine, and yet she's never given birth before.

Four years into our bond, my body was a wreck. Losing our first pup had nearly killed me, leaving me too fragile to handle Fred’s massive frame. Fred was our Alpha—a mountain of a man. To protect me, he publicly announced he’d had a vasectomy. Even after the Pack Healer cleared me, Fred wouldn’t touch me. He claimed he was terrified of hurting me again. I thought I had the most loyal mate alive. Then I saw him. He was at a shop across town with his Lead Warrior, loading a basket with over a dozen toys—the most expensive models they had. The Warrior nudged him, smirking. "Planning a marathon? You’re not worried Maya will find out you’re screwing her sister?" Fred laughed, his eyes bright with a sick kind of pride. "Maya is my Luna; I love her. But her body is broken," he shrugged. "Cynthia looks exactly like her—only younger, tighter, and willing to do whatever I want. No complaints, no pain. My soul belongs to my Luna, but I need an heir. Cynthia will carry my son so Maya doesn't have to suffer."

Lately I've been in a bad mood, so my friend suggests that I see a traditional medicine practitioner. But I dare not do that, for I'm addicted to carnal pleasure. Rumors have it that a traditional medicine practitioner can easily tell what my addiction is. Unfortunately, my body keeps going through changes I can't explain, so I can only head toward a clinic on my own. As expected, the way the practitioner looks at me shifts instantly. "You've been longing to get screwed out of your brains, right?" He pins me on the desk before tugging off my damp panties…

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane.

Mom dies of rage when she discovers that the bride at my wedding has become Nelly Johnson, Harvey Fisher's business partner. My wedding turns into Mom's funeral the moment she breathes her last breath. Despite that, Harvey insists that the ceremony continue as planned. He even orders me to put the wedding ring on Nelly's finger. "Hurry up and put it on! I'll explain everything to you tonight!" he snarls. I ignore him and leave the hotel with Mom's body in my arms. The wedding ends with a banging success at 8:00 pm. Nelly updated her social media with a post that's liked by tens of thousands of people. "I've finally married the light of my life! I'd like to thank a certain homewrecker for leaving after remembering her place." Harvey updates his social media with a similar post. "Those who are unworthy don't deserve to be loved." I like both their posts in the ice-cold morgue. I comment, "I wish you two a lifetime of happiness." Then, I head home with Mom's ashes. When I enter the house, I see Harvey holding Nelly tightly while making out with her.

I was a child who was born in a vocational school's toilet. To my mom, I was a stain in her life that she was given birth to after having her cherry popped by a delinquent when she was still young. I knew that Mom had been trying to kill me. Unfortunately, she hadn't succeeded so far. The first time she tried to get rid of me was when she decided to give birth to me in the toilet. It was a cold, winter month, yet she didn't give me anything warm to wear. The second time she attempted murder was when she got into grad school, which was based in the north. No one was around to take care of me, so she turned on the gas while holding me in her arms and clutching her train ticket. The third and last time happened when Mom was about to marry the man she loved. On the night before her wedding, she had tears streaming down her cheeks as she told me, "You're nothing but a burden. You ruined my life! "Do you know that I can only forget about all the pain and suffering you caused me after you die? Only then can I start a brand new chapter in my life!" I wiped Mom's tears off her face with my tiny hand. So, her wish was for me to die. On my birthday, my fever hit 104 degrees Fahrenheit. That was when I finally received the first slice of birthday cake in my entire life. I didn't have the heart to eat it, so I made my wish solemnly. "I hope that I will die soon." I heard that birthday wishes often came true. That way, Mom would be very happy.

On the day the SAT scores are released, the reporters track me down, the top scorer of the entire nation, in order to get an interview with me. That's when they find me fishing for a corpse by the river. When the reporters ask me who I'm thankful to the most, my mom, who's allegedly been dead for ten years, makes an appearance. She gets out of the Maybach, looking very high and mighty. "Your dad didn't remarry for ten years, and you've become the top scorer of the nation. As expected, both of you have passed my test." I can only grip my pole while staring at her in confusion. It turns out that ten years ago, Mom's adopted younger brother, Donald Ferguson, suggested to her, "Why don't you fake your death and test your husband's mettle? You should pretend to go bankrupt and jump off a building. If he can stay single for your sake for the next ten years, that should prove that he didn't marry you just for your money." Mom had laughed back then. "When we were still dating, I pretended to be poor for three years. Walter could take five jobs just to put food on the table for me. It's so evident that he loves me to the moon and back. Ten years isn't a problem; heck, he'll definitely remain unmarried for 20 years, or even for the rest of his life!" The fact that I, the top scorer of the nation, am actually the wealthiest woman, Eloise Ferguson's son, gives a huge boost to the shares of her company. The entire nation looks forward to seeing Mom and me hugging each other while bawling at the top of our lungs. Mom looks around her surroundings. "Where's Walter? I'm here to take both of you home with me." "He's dead." The pole in my hands slowly cracks into splinters as I look up at Mom and spit out the answer word by word. "Three years ago, Dad kept working his ass off day and night just to buy the best burial plot for you. That was when he died in this very river."

"Ah... go easy, my husband is calling." My cheeks flushed bright red as I grabbed the phone and accepted the video call. On the other end, my husband, Trevor Chambers, stared intently and began rattling off a list of instructions. He was completely unaware that just out of view, a young man's head was busy nuzzling between my thighs.

The night before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That same night, I found out my fiancé had already chosen another woman to give him his first child. Adrian DeLuca, heir to a mafia empire and the man who once swore I was the only woman he would ever love, came home carrying her perfume on his clothes and told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that it was only a medical arrangement. His dead friend’s widow needed an heir, and after I had failed to give him one through sixty-six rounds of IVF, he had decided this was the best solution for everyone. I said nothing. I let him go on preparing the wedding. I let him believe I would still walk down the aisle and become Mrs. DeLuca. But while he was planning our ceremony, I was planning my disappearance. On our wedding day, the estate would still open its doors. The guests would still arrive. The ceremony would still begin. But the bride Adrian DeLuca betrayed would die there. By the time he learned the truth, that I had been carrying his child all along, I would already be gone under a new name, taking his heir somewhere he could never reach.