Cerita Pendek & Novel

I was pregnant with Alpha Jaxon's heir. His childhood friend, Hattie, volunteered to drive me to the Pack Medical Center for a checkup. On the bridge over Wolf’s Hollow River, she didn't hesitate. She yanked the steering wheel right into the rusty guardrail. I didn't fight her for the wheel like I did in my past life. Because in my last life, I stopped the crash, but she was thrown from the car into the rapids. They never found her body. My Alpha claimed he didn't blame me. He even ground evening primrose by hand every day to soothe the pup, his eyes full of tender anticipation for our baby. But on the day I gave birth to his heir, he forced me and our newborn pup into his car, slammed his foot on the gas, and drove us straight into the raging sea. "She wouldn't have died if you hadn't gone insane with jealousy and grabbed the wheel! Did you think playing the victim would fool me? " "You like staging 'accidents', don't you? Then let's see how you like the freezing depths of the river!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back in Hattie's out-of-control sports car.

When my brother, Adrian Carter, storms out of the house in anger, I go out in the pouring rain to find him—only to be struck by a fallen live wire, resulting in the complete loss of both my arms. From then on, I, who dreamed of becoming a doctor, have been doomed to be a patient forever. I make multiple attempts on my life. My family wrestles me back from the clutches of death every time. Adrian crouches down in front of me and begs, "It's my fault. Please don't die." Mom quits her job and keeps me company all day long. "You mean more to me than my life! What am I supposed to do if you're gone?" To earn more money and help me regain the ability to live normally, Dad works as hard as he can and even takes on more work abroad. I assume that life will eventually get better. But after I've finally learned how to use my feet in place of my hands for everything, I inadvertently overhear a conversation. "If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have stopped her from killing herself." The next day, I climb to the rooftop alone. The wind is howling. It makes me sniffle, but no tears fall.

In order to see the aurora with Alexander, I began planning a year in advance. Alexander and my adopted sister had already left me behind and gone to the destination ahead of time. When I arrived, no one answered the phone. I waited for ten hours before he finally returned my call. On the phone, Evelyn laughed excitedly, "Diana! I've already explored this entire city. Alex is so mature and charming—he planned everything in advance. I'm having such a wonderful time!" She chattered away, sharing her experiences, while Alexander occasionally play along to add details. The two of them had spent the holiday blissfully together like a pair of lovebirds. It was as if neither of them had noticed over a hundred missed calls from me. I stood in the cold wind, listening quietly. The biting wind slashed sharply across my cheeks. My feet are frozen and completely numb. It wasn't until Evelyn whined coyly that she was hungry that Alexander took the phone, his voice gentle, "Omega bodies are frail. Evelyn hasn't been feeling well these past two days. Wait a little longer—we'll come pick you up after we finish eating." Before he could finish, I gripped my phone tightly and said softly, "I waited for you for a long time, Alexander. I've been looking forward to this trip for a long time too." It seemed like Alexander on the other end was about to speak, but Evelyn's playfully voice came through, "Alex, hurry up and eat, I'm so hungry..." Then he hung up on me. The car I had booked in advance to take me home arrived. The driver helped me load my unopened suitcase. "Madam, there's a rogue werewolf on the loose around here lately—it's very dangerous. How could your family leave you here alone?" I took out the invitation from the Nordic medical team from my phone and examined it, "It won't happen again. Never again." Then I click accept invitation. Seven days later, Alexander — we will never see each other again.

My best friend had borrowed money from me 220 times in a single year. Sometimes it was $50 for groceries. Sometimes it was $5,000 for appliances, cookware, or furniture. I knew he was broke, and I knew life had been hard on him, so I never made a big deal out of it. Then one day, while we were shopping together, my phone died. I asked him to cover a $2.50 bottle of water for me. He said, "Your phone always dies when it is time to pay. Could you make it any more obvious that you are trying to freeload?" It was the first time I had ever asked him to pay for anything.

This year, as the country's leading neurosurgeon, I was invited to perform a high-profile specialist surgery at a hospital in another state. Twenty years ago, I stood in this very operating room. My mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, and the surgeon's hand slipped by less than a quarter of an inch. She died. Back then, it was my first love, Ethan Lancaster, who helped me through the grief. Only later did I learn the truth. The surgeon listed on the case was Ethan's father, the hospital's renowned Chief of Neurosurgery. But the one actually holding the scalpel was Ethan himself, still a surgical resident at the time. He and Vanessa Hart had planned it all along. They used my mother's operation as a practice case to advance his career. After the tragedy, Vanessa used her status as the hospital director's daughter to bury the entire incident. From that day forward, I gave up my guaranteed research placement and sat for medical school entrance exams again. I studied from undergraduate through postdoctoral training. I spent twenty full years turning myself into the kind of surgeon who would never make that mistake. All so that one day, no one else would have to suffer the same tragedy my mother did. Today, my assistant slid a patient's file across the desk. Brainstem tumor. Late stage. Extremely high risk. The face in the photo had aged considerably, but I recognized it at a glance. I handed the file back to my assistant and removed my surgical coat. “I can't perform this surgery.”

In the third year of working to raise money for the medical expenses of my girlfriend, Christine White, she once again fell into a critical condition. During these three years, I used up all my savings and mortgaged the house my parents had left me. I delivered takeout food, washed dishes, and even sold my blood just because she said she would marry me when she recovered. I continued to naively gather money for her medical expenses. While delivering takeout at the entrance of an upscale nightclub, I heard her boasting to her friends. "That idiot Micah Jenning. I just made up an excuse about being sick, and he believed me like a lapdog! Not only did he empty his tiny savings, but he actually worked delivering food and driving Uber! I heard he even worked on a construction site a few days ago to make money! Tell me. Isn't he the ultimate simp? How pathetic.” At that moment, the heart that loved her for three years suddenly died. I dropped the food delivery and turned to call the rich heiress who had waited for me for three years. "Hayley Smith, you once said that you would marry me if I were willing to marry you. Does that statement still stand?"

I was a player. At the same time, I was juggling three gorgeous girlfriends. Then, after an accident, I got pulled into a horror game. That was when I discovered something terrifying. All three of my girlfriends were major bosses in the game. The good news was, none of them knew about the others. The bad news was, if they ever found out, I was dead. To stay alive, I spent every waking hour managing my messy dating life, doing everything I could to keep my three girlfriends from tearing each other apart. Until one day, several lines of floating comments appeared in front of me. [Run, kid. She is coming for you.] [Careful, baby. She wants to wring you dry.] Just as I was drowning in fear and despair, one of the women leaned close to my ear and asked in the softest voice, “Kid, do you know the female boss from the amusement park?”

Throughout my five years of marriage with Natalia Lane, never once have I stepped through the front door of my in-laws' residence. Natalia tells me that her parents prefer quiet environments and that they prefer to be distanced from us. I believe her excuses. On the first of every month, the bank transfers three thousand dollars on time to Natalia's parents. The transaction is always labeled as "living expenses for Mom and Dad". This is my only way of caring for my in-laws. During the holidays this year, I show up outside my in-laws' residence with some holiday gifts in my arms, ready to give them a surprise. But as soon as I reach the doorway, I hear my father-in-law, Arthur Lane's gentle voice coming from within. "Come, my dear son-in-law! Let's have a nice drink together!" I remain rooted to the spot in the corridor. Suddenly, the weight of the gifts in my arms feels extremely heavy. Natalia is the only child in her family. Well then, who's the "son-in-law" that's drinking with Arthur right now?

On the day my daughter, Dakota Bradshaw, gets into a car accident, I rush over to save her, only to get crippled instead. Both my wife, Delilah Rowland, and Dakota don't mind the fact that I'm being a burden to them. Instead, they put in a lot of effort to take good care of me. But one day, a fire breaks out at home. Yet, Delilah personally closes my room door. Since I'm crippled, I end up falling to the floor in my state of panic. That's when I notice Dakota's shoes through the gap under the door. "Dakota, save me!" I call for help at the top of my lungs. But only the sounds of the crackling flames respond to me. I have no idea how much time has passed when I catch wisps of a conversation hazily. "Mom, the firefighters are here. What should we do?" Dakota's voice is very low. Delilah replies calmly, "Tell the police that your father started the fire when he was cooking. We just reached the corridor at that time, so the doorknob was already warped from the fire." Dakota simply says one word. "Okay."

On our wedding day, my wife, Jessica Burke, a CEO as well, got into the wrong wedding limousine and ended up spending the night with her male assistant, Callum Ross. The next day, she came back covered in red marks. Kneeling before me, she begged for my forgiveness and swore she would fire Callum and never see him again. But one year later, I saw her in the OB/GYN department when she was supposed to be overseas on a business trip. She was holding a crying, hungry baby in her arms. And beside her stood Callum, who had supposedly disappeared for an entire year. In a fit of rage, I kicked them out of the hospital. Unexpectedly, the baby disappeared that very night. Jessica blamed everything on me. To force me to return the child, she strapped a time bomb to my parents. I denied it again and again, but Jessica only roared, "Eric Miller! I've treated you well enough! Why would you still hurt my baby? Hand over my child right now, or I'll set off the bomb!" With that, she activated the time bomb, and the clock began its countdown. Seeing that I failed to tell her the baby's whereabouts, Jessica angrily pushed my parents into the sea of flames. Just then, someone informed her that her baby had been found. Jessica resolutely turned around and left, leaving my parents to be blown to pieces by the explosion. While she and Callum were throwing a party to celebrate their baby's first month, I was on the ground, gathering what little remained of my parents. At this moment, I regretted ever loving her.

On the seventh day after my dad's passing, I head over to the funeral home to wrap up the aftermath of the funeral as well as pack up my dad's personal effects. That's when an employee stops me and demands that I cough up an additional 100 thousand dollars for the storage and preservation of my dad's corpse. I'm stunned, to say the least. Dad has already gotten cremated and buried a long time ago. His ashes are already deposited inside the graveyard, as we speak. So, how is his body getting stored and preserved throughout the week? I use facts and logic to argue with the employee. But he has the gall to threaten me with an impatient scowl on his face. "Stop yapping already! The system shows that your father's body is still inside the cold storage! It's been seven days, so you must pay 100 thousand dollars, no matter what! If you refuse to settle the payment, you can forget about taking your father's personal effects with you! "When the time comes, you have to cough up the additional charges as well! If not, I shall see you at court!" As I stare at the hostile employee, I can feel rage simmering in my blood. Still, I call every family member and relative I have to borrow 100 thousand dollars from them just so I can make the payment. With the receipt in hand, I walk into the police station right away. "Officer, my dad was cremated and buried seven days ago. But the funeral home decided to charge me 100 thousand dollars' worth of storage and preservation fees for no reason! I suspect that they didn't send my father off the proper way!" When the police show up at the funeral home, the same employee who threatened me looks alarmed. He quickly gets his manager, Mr. Lawson, to deal with the situation. Impatience is etched all over Mr. Lawson's face as he snaps at me, "Your father has already gone through the cremation process seven days ago. The procedure and all the receipts are intact. Don't you dare kick up a fuss irrationally now!" I let out a cold chuckle in return before showing Mr. Lawson the receipt. "I'm being irrational, you say? I've just paid for the storage fees of my father's corpse, and here's the receipt to prove the validity of the transaction! You must return my father to me today!" I thought the funeral home insisted on charging me earlier. Now, they'd better fulfill their side of the bargain by returning my dad's corpse to me without a single hair out of place!

My father, the Alpha King, did not want his daughter surrounded by Alphas chasing the throne, so he hid my identity and arranged for me to meet Adrian Vale, the young Alpha of the modest Silver Ridge Pack. Father said Adrian had real ability. Unlike the court Alphas who knew only how to flatter power, Adrian had taken control of his pack young and kept it stable. I wore a Chanel dress, a custom Cartier watch, a Hermès bag, and the moonstone bracelet my mother had left me. It was only a formal meeting, but since Father had arranged it himself, I chose to show respect. Before dinner could begin, Adrian's childhood friend, Molly Veyne, stormed into the private dining room. She called herself a gold-digger detector. Her eyes swept over my dress, my watch, my bracelet, and my bag before she laughed. "Adrian, look at her. She covered herself in luxury brands so you would think she came from noble blood." Adrian apologized and said Molly disliked women who dressed too loudly. I chose not to lose my temper. Then Molly dragged my Hermès bag under her shoe. "A bag worth this much? How could you afford it?" "Tell us, how many Alphas did you fool before you could pay for everything you are wearing?" "You dressed like a princess because you want an Alpha to put a Luna crown on your head." Her malice almost made me laugh. I looked at the moonstone bracelet on my wrist. Even if Silver Ridge sold every business it owned, Molly still might not be able to pay for what she had just touched.

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey. No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts. Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne. Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead." On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name. After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families. But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered. When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

Two years after Theron Vex claimed me as his Mate, he finally held his marking ceremony. But the woman was not me.. "The child Nora carries is of Pack blood. I have to give them a proper status," I heard Theron say to his friend. "I'm just helping her out. I love Elara. She just needs to wait a little longer." But he had been saying that for six months. Ever since his brother—Nora's mate—died, he had chosen Nora over me, again and again. The first time he postponed our ceremony, it was because Nora had just found out she was pregnant and the pregnancy was unstable. The healer said she needed bed rest and could not be left alone. The second time, because she had a checkup at the hospital. The third time, because she said she felt the baby move and she wanted him to feel it too. There was always a reason. There was always something more important than me. I thought about our first year together. The way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world. The way he told everyone I was his future Luna. The way he promised, “After the ceremony, you will be the Luna of the entire Pack.” I believed him. I waited. I kept waiting. Six months of waiting. Six months of “just a little longer.” I was tired. This time, I did not run to Theron and demand an explanation like I used to. I did not cry. I did not scream. I simply went home, packed my bags, and booked a plane ticket. Theron lost his mind later. He showed up at my research station in the Arctic, begging to make amends.

Ever since I was born, my parents bound me to a Pain Transfer System. My body was covered in scars. My older brother, Dylan Jeater, had albinism and Hydroa Vacciniforme. His condition was so severe that he could not be exposed to any light. Doctors determined that he would only live to be sixteen years old. However, Dylan had always been playful. He often snuck outside. Eventually, his body was covered in sores. My father, Robert Jeater, worked day and night to earn money. He finally bought two Pain Transfer System wristbands at a high price for Dylan and me. For six years, the pain Dylan felt from every sun exposure had been transferred to me. My mother, May Jeater, always held me gently and treated my wounds. She said, “Chester, I’m sorry. I just want Dylan to be happy in the time he has left. I hope you understand.” On New Year’s Eve, my parents took Dylan out. It was very sunny that day. As soon as we left the house, my whole body broke out in blisters. I could not help but cry out in pain. Dylan tore off his wristband and broke down sobbing. “Does it hurt? Fine, if you think it hurts so much, then turn off the transfer! Let me just die of the pain! “I’ll only live up to sixteen anyway. I’m going to die sooner or later.” His body became severely sunburned, and he lost consciousness. Mom shoved me to the ground. “Dylan never complained once in all those years of pain! After only six years of it being passed to you, you’re already breaking down?! “He’s only going to live to be sixteen! Is it wrong to want him to be happy in his last few years?” Dad picked up Dylan. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, but the pain can only be transferred between biological brothers.” They then rushed him to the hospital. I picked up the wristband from the ground. A message popped up on the screen. [Do you want to transfer your remaining lifespan to the linked user?] Without any hesitation, I pressed confirm.

Just when I was about to step through airport security for my Around-the-World trip, I heard the twins in my womb, a boy and a girl, shouting. 'Mom! Can you stop thinking about going to have fun? The whole world is going to become a frozen block of ice in a month! You're still thinking about flying around at a time like this? Don't be silly!' 'My brother's right! Hurry home and stock up on food and medicine already! Renovate our mansion! Turn the garden into food storage! Turn the swimming pool into a reservoir!' My heart skipped a beat, and the milk in my hand spilled all over the floor. The passenger behind me urged me impatiently, "Can you hurry up? You're holding everyone up." I ignored him. Instead, I turned around and called my assistant. I also gave him another order. "Get me ten thousand pounds of grains and five thousand pounds of pork belly. The ones with the skin on. I want them now!" From that moment on, Kirsten, the woman in Harbor City who only knew how to burn money and fly all over the world, changed. She became Kirsten, ruler of the frozen wasteland.

To stay by the side of award-winning actress Victoria Quinn, I gave up the system's one-billion-dollar cash reward. I also drained every last one of my luck points to make her paralyzed legs heal. The price was that my life became bound to her loyalty. If she ever betrayed me, emotionally or physically, my soul would be ripped from my body and erased completely. At the moment of binding, I hesitated. But when I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her love, I believed her. I believed her when she said, "Out of all the people in the world, I only want you." So I chose to become the man who stood silently behind her, giving everything without complaint, and I pressed confirm. For seven years, we loved each other as deeply as we had in the beginning. Hand in hand, we weathered every storm together. Until our wedding anniversary. I was in the kitchen making her favorite soup when I suddenly coughed violently and spat out a large pool of black blood. Then I looked down and saw my fingers slowly turning transparent, so faint that I could no longer even touch the glass in front of me. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang through my mind. "Warning. Bound target's love value has fallen below the critical threshold. Erasure protocol activated..."

I brought Nolan Pierce home for dinner on holiday. Halfway through the meal, my sister suddenly suggested that Nolan and I adopt her son. Before I could refuse, Nolan gave a quiet hum of agreement. "Okay." He agreed, just like that. It caught me off guard because he had just told me he never wanted children just three days ago. It didn't matter how I begged and pleaded, as he still forced me to terminate my pregnancy. Now, he looked at my nephew and said, "He's my child. Of course, I should take responsibility." I stared at him, frozen in disbelief. I wondered how my nephew, Kayden, could possibly be Nolan's child. My sister had gotten pregnant by her broke ex-boyfriend and had run away before giving birth. When they saw the shock on my face, Nolan and my sister laughed at the same time. It was as if they were in on their own private joke, and perhaps they were. My sister shot me a scornful look. "How else do you think he could stand being with you? You were my replacement from the very beginning." Nolan wrapped an arm around my shoulders and spoke gently, as though he were comforting me. "Kayden is still related to you by blood, babe. Try to look on the bright side. You won't have to go through childbirth now." I felt my heart freeze right then and there. I had always known that Nolan had never forgotten about his first love. Yet, how could that same person be my sister? The same sister who bullied me since childhood and almost got me killed? My voice shook so badly I could barely force the words out. "Nolan, I want a divorce."

My adoptive younger brother, Jonathan Arden, is getting married soon, so he has invited me to his wedding. It turns out that the bride is Charlotte Vaughn, my childhood sweetheart-slash-fiancee. My parents think that I'm going to steal Charlotte from Jonathan and cause a huge ruckus at the wedding. That's why they've hired 100 bodyguards, who soon have me surrounded. When things are getting tense, Jonathan rushes down the stage and starts pleading with me. "Mom, Dad, I'm sure Harrison showed up without an invitation just so he can give me his blessings. Please don't blame him." Charlotte takes my hand and says to me pleadingly, "Jonathan is diagnosed with cancer. He's afraid that you might be worried about him, so he's hidden his condition from you. I'm pretending to marry him just so he won't die single." I express my understanding toward the couple before giving them my blessings. Delighted, Charlotte promises me, "Don't worry, you're the only one I view as my actual husband. Once the wedding is over, we'll register our marriage right away." What she doesn't know is that I've already booked an appointment in a fake-death program. A week later, I will leave this place for real. After all, I don't want anything to do with my parents and Charlotte anymore.

On the night of my engagement party, Luca Moretti walked his childhood sweetheart over to me. "Clara accidentally stained her dress," he said. "Let her borrow yours for a while." He added, "Everyone knows you're the main character tonight. It doesn't matter what you wear." I didn't bother objecting. The gown was already on her. I stood behind the half-closed back door in a borrowed black dress while his men laughed over their whiskey. "Luca, is your real fiancee going to lose it?" someone asked. Luca barely looked up from his glass. "Anna is going to be a Donna. She needs to learn grace." Another man snorted. "Besides, she's an orphan. Where's she gonna go without you?" Luca smiled. "She can't leave me." They didn't know I had never been an orphan. I had buried the Valenti name for five years because I wanted Luca to love me as Anna, not as the Valenti daughter. My father is the Mafia Chairman, the man every family answered to when the highest table met. That night, I took off the Moretti emerald ring, left it beside the guest book, and called home. "Papa, I’m not marrying Luca. Don't come to Chicago."