Short Stories & Novels

My husband, Kieran, is the heir to the Thompson family. In the three years of our arranged marriage, he has never once touched me. I told myself he was just cold and guarded, that I could find a way into his heart, little by little. Then one day he came home drunk, pinned me to the bed for the first time, and called out his first love's name. "Camilla, all these years... I've thought of you every second of every day..." That was when I knew. All the passion and love he possessed was already spent on another woman. I pushed him away, burned every photo of us, and went to a high-end club in New York full of handsome male models. Nine months later, I walked into the airport with my newborn baby in my arms. Later, Kieran searched the world for me, his eyes bloodshot. He asked in a trembling voice why I never told him I was pregnant, why I wouldn't let him see our baby. I glanced at him and gave a light, breezy smile. "Who said the baby was yours?"

The fifth year of my marriage to Silas marked a turning point I would never forget. Our son, Yael, was kidnapped. The ransom was set at ten million dollars, an insignificant amount for Silas, yet his response chilled me to the core. “No rush. A Gardner needs to experience some hardships to grow.” Ten million meant nothing to him, but Yael’s life meant everything to me. I dropped to my knees, tears streaming down my face, and begged him relentlessly, pleading for Yael to be brought home as soon as possible. Silas, however, remained unmoved. Three days later, Yael was returned to us, but the cheerful boy I knew was gone. He had been so traumatized that he could not speak. Far from showing concern, Silas coldly remarked, “Yuna said Yael keeps telling everyone at school she’s a fatherless child. Let’s see how he spreads lies now.” His words cut through me like a knife. I picked Yael up in my arms and whispered softly in his ear, “Don’t be afraid, Yael. Mommy will take you away from here.”

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

My husband, Liam, got his terminally ill ex-girlfriend, Chloe, pregnant. He said it was to grant her dying wish of becoming a mother. On the day she gave birth, Liam's sister, Isabella, hired a security firm to guard the hospital, claiming it was to prevent me from causing a scene. Isabella stood by Chloe's bedside. "Don't worry, I have people posted at the entrance. If Ava dares to show up and make trouble, we'll have her thrown out immediately." Liam, seeing I hadn't come, breathed a sigh of relief. "Chloe, just focus on delivering our baby safely. Don't worry about anything else." He truly believed that since he was only fulfilling his dying ex's last wish, I would never be so unreasonable as to make a fuss. Looking at the tiny, rosy infant in his arms, he sent me a text: "Darling, I did this for you. I had her carry a child for us, so you could finally be a mother." He thought that as long as I accepted it all, this child was my ultimate reward. But what he didn't know was that I had just surrendered my residency. In one week, I would be in Kenya, working as a volunteer on a project of biomedical research. It was meant to be a final goodbye—a world away from Liam, forever. But he was searching for me like a madman, pleading for me to return.

I was dragged online by one of my own employees. According to her post, I was a stingy boss who refused to give out holiday gift boxes for Memorial Day weekend. What the internet did not know was that my company already had a long-standing tradition. Every holiday, and even every employee birthday, each person received a $300 gift card without fail. But once the whole internet started tearing me apart, I decided to give everyone exactly what they claimed they wanted. I issued a company-wide notice. To respect everyone’s demand for a more “thoughtful” holiday gesture, this year’s Memorial Day gift cards would be canceled and replaced with holiday gift boxes for all employees. The moment the notice went out, the entire company exploded. Employees crowded outside my office, begging me to bring the gift cards back.

My mate, Charalambos, was the heir to the Nightshade Pack. To take over as Alpha, he was sent to Noctis City, the capital city, for special training. When he left, my stepsister, Francesca, insisted on going with him. He refused at first, but she forced his hand, threatening a hunger strike until he gave in. Eventually, he allowed her to accompany him as his assistant. This went on for three years. Throughout those three years, our mate bond stayed strong. I never felt the slightest hint of betrayal. He constantly reassured me through our mind-link. "You're the only one for me." At some point, I started receiving photos anonymously. Francesca kissed him in the face, but he never refused. Once, Charalambos and I were on a video call in the dark, and I could hear Francesca’s breathless voice clearly while she whispered his name in the heat of it. Three years later, the day he returned to the pack, I saw her walking behind him. She had been with pup for five months, and there was a smug, victorious smile on her face. He looked at me apologetically. Guilt was written all over his face. "I'm sorry. I’ve only ever loved you. Once the pup comes, you can raise it." I was done. I had waited for three years. I made up my mind to reject him.

Because my jealousy endangered his childhood sweetheart, my Alpha mate, Victor, took our son's advice. He sent me to the pack witch to have my memories erased.​ A long winter later, he woke me with the antidote.​ In the eyes of the pack, I became the perfect Luna.​ I organized the pack's winter stores flawlessly. I cataloged every last berry and pound of meat without breaking a sweat. I could even smile while delivering a blanket to Clara, Victor's precious sweetheart.​ But my Alpha and my pup, Rio, knew. I had changed.​ I no longer remembered how to soothe him on full moon nights, combing through his fur as he writhed in pain.​ When Rio fell in the snow and wailed, I calmly called for his nanny.​ Even when Victor returned late from a hunt, I offered only a cool nod. I never once reached for him through our mind-link.​ At first, he thought it was revenge. He didn't care.​ Until the night of the blizzard, when he and Rio followed me to the abandoned church. Through the thin wood of the confessional, they heard my whisper.​ "Moon Goddess, what do I do when the memories are back but the love isn't?"​ "The witch gave me back what happened, but when I look at my Alpha and my pup... they're strangers to me."​ "I feel so tense and awkward just being in the same room. What am I supposed to do?" Outside, the man and the boy just froze. They finally understood. Some things, once broken, can never be fixed.​

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

The day I married Vincent Sorrentino, Lena, the Sorrentino family’s adopted daughter, threatened to jump off the steeple of the family church. Vincent left me standing at the altar in my custom wedding gown, no hesitation, just bolted after her. With every New York crime boss, politician, and oligarch staring at me, I looked out at the crowd and said loud and clear: “Any man who walks up here right now and says ‘I do’? I’ll marry you.” Three years later, Vincent was back into the Sorrentino family’s Long Island estate, Lena on his arm. I was sitting on the leather couch in the main living room, watching my favorate TV show. Vincent’s eyes locked on my huge pregnant belly, his jaw tight, growling through his teeth: “Whose bastard is in there?” I took a sip of orange juice, curled my lip into a smile, and said: “It's a Sorrentino baby, of course.”

I was raised by my mother, a single parent who never revealed the identity of my father. For years, that part of my life remained a mystery until her final moments. With her last breath, she asked me to find him. I shared this with my best friend, who had never known her own parents. With tears in her eyes, she confided in me that she longed for a father, too. She tried to manipulate me, suggesting I work as a housekeeper for my father so she could claim him as her own. Soft-hearted, I agreed to the plan. When I finally met him, he was stunned. The resemblance between me and his first love was undeniable. He wanted to take me under his wing as his mistress. "Come to my room tonight and wear something… revealing," he said. To protect myself, I laid all my cards on the table.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, the groom's name was swapped out. The woman my boyfriend was now promised to—the pampered mafia princess nestled in his arms—looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it perfect?" she sneered. "A fraud of a bride for a fake heir. What a match." I ignored her and turned to the man I loved. This was the man who endured three days of brutal punishment just for the right to marry me, when the Rossi family first acknowledged him as their true heir. Now, he just nodded along with her. "Don't be so dramatic. It's a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? It's just a piece of paper. Once Sienna's had her fun, you two get a divorce, and then it'll be our turn. I promise." I smiled. Then I turned and walked straight to the so-called "fake" heir. "The marriage license is filed, honey," I said. "Let's go plan our real wedding."

At our Thanksgiving family dinner, my stepbrother brought his beautiful girlfriend to meet the family for the first time. She held up her wine glass and flashed me a malicious smirk. “I heard you had a first love you can’t forget, Summer.” I kept my head low and focused on my food, unsure how to respond. After all, my first love… was her boyfriend. When I was seventeen, my stepbrother Ethan Cole tricked me into crossing the line we should never have crossed, while our parents were blissfully unaware. Even right now, under the table, his foot was rubbing mine sensually. He did not bother holding back. On the table, he held his girlfriend’s hand tenderly as he mocked me with a smirk, “You’re twenty-seven, sis. Your shelf life is running out, and you’re such a plain Jane. Who would ever want you?” I stood up abruptly and looked at him, my tone calm and resolute. “I’m married, Ethan.”

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

I bought Cade Bowman, a werewolf, off the black market. When he was on the brink of death, I treated him tirelessly. When his heat drove him into a feral frenzy, I stayed and soothed him. But when Cade reclaimed the Wolf King's throne, he chose my sister as his queen and sentenced me to death. On the day of the execution, a helicopter dropped out of the sky. I looked calmly at the man on board and said, "Julian, take me to a place without wolves."

After six years by Archie Valez’s side, everything changed when his uncle died—and Archie took over the family legacy… and with it, the responsibility of caring for his “young” aunt, Betty Cruz, whose age was practically the same as Archie’s. Still, whatever Betty wanted, Archie delivered. I just never thought it would include a baby. Betty said she wanted a baby with the Valez bloodline. And with the uncle gone, Archie was the only one left to do the job. So he gave her that, too. “Just wait a little longer,” he would say to me, “Sabrina. As soon as she’s pregnant.” What started as once a month turned into once a week… Then it became a nightly routine. Of almost eight months that we lived in New York, Archie went to Betty over a hundred times. And she finally got pregnant. Shortly after, the Valez family announced that Archie would be marrying Betty. “Mommy,” my daughter asked softly, climbing onto the couch beside me. Elly—our Elly. My Elly. The daughter Archie never had time for. “Is someone getting married?” I held her close and kissed her hair. “Yes, sweetheart. Daddy’s finally marrying the love of his life.” Elly blinked at the screen. “But what about us?” I smiled. “We’re going home, baby,” I whispered in her ear. Archie forgot that I was Sabrina Marcellus. And the Marcellus women didn’t beg for rings. And certainly not love after betrayal.

I took time off work and flew out to be my best friend's maid of honor. The moment my plane landed, she picked me up and took me straight to the hotel. Not long after we got to the room, she handed me a shopping bag. Inside was the newest phone on the market, a bottle of luxury perfume, and a check for ten thousand dollars. She said with a bright, excited smile, "It's your bridesmaid gift. Even if I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life." My eyes filled with tears right there. The next morning, I woke up before sunrise. I put on my bridesmaid dress and went to find her. She was sitting in front of the vanity mirror. Stylists were moving around her, busy with her hair and makeup. When she saw me, she turned with a huge smile and waved me over, her face glowing with excitement. But the moment I stepped closer, her expression changed. It was like she had just seen something disgusting. "Get out." Her voice was low, but the disgust in it was clear. "Disappear from my sight. Right now." I froze where I stood.

My biased mother brought my sister, Irene Baxter, to help me with my child. But one day, I forgot to bring a contract to work. When I returned home, I saw two bodies entwined. To cover up their secret, my husband, Sam Hodgson, and Irene pushed me off the tenth floor. It was only after my death that I realized I had been nothing more than a tool for carrying on the family name. "It's better that she's dead. Now my sweet girl can be a mom without having to go through childbirth." "Sleeping with her was revolting; she was like a block of wood. Irene is so much better." Even Irene had regrets. "Still, we shouldn't have pushed her down. She was smashed beyond recognition—otherwise, we might’ve been able to sell her corpse for a pretty penny." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day they pushed me off the building. This time, I wouldn't let any of them off the hook.

After Seraphina Vale stole three men fate had once chosen for me, I swore I would never let another wolf claim me. Until Dorian Blackthorn, the Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack, claimed me in front of everyone. He swore his loyalty under the moon oath, turning away every approach from Seraphina. He even called out her behavior publicly in the council hall. For the first time, I thought I had found a wolf worth entrusting my soul to. Three years into marriage, I saw Seraphina again. Someone asked her, “What’s the most reckless thing you’ve ever done?” She licked her lips, eyes unfocused. “Of course, having Dorian Blackthorn mark me. His mate still foolishly thinks he truly hates me.” “In truth, I’ve borne his pup, lived in his territory, driven his car, spent his money.” Everyone’s eyes turned to me. After all, I was Dorian’s Lunna. I did not react. I simply sent the letter I had drafted for three days to the Black Moon Medical Team. The reply came swiftly to my mind: [Your appointment has been confirmed.] [The Black Moon Medical Team welcomes you as its new chief healer. Your office and residence have been prepared.] My wolf growled low in my chest. In two days, I would leave this pack and take up my new post.

Jaroch, my mate, had a twin brother, Torma, who was the Gamma of the Shadow Grove Pack. Torma was born with exceptional combat abilities. After Torma died, my mother-in-law, Neradia, feared losing influence in the pack. She forced Jaroch to assume Torma's identity and take over as Gamma. To keep the lie from unraveling, she ordered Jaroch to sleep nightly with his widowed sister-in-law, Lezah, hoping they'd produce a pup. I was furious and protested against it. Neradia slapped me hard across the face. "As long as Lezah doesn't remarry, your husband will continue to be the Gamma. You'll enjoy endless wealth and glory too," she said. I thought Jaroch would refuse, but he had no problem tossing morality aside and getting into bed with Lezah. The worst part was that they flaunted their love right in front of me. When Lezah got pregnant, I decided I'd had enough. I wanted to leave with my daughter, Sylvia Cardin. Instead, Jaroch locked me in a room and went on a family vacation with everyone else but me. That was when a pack of rogues broke into our home. They robbed us, set fire to the house, and were about to kill everyone. I called Jaroch in a panic and begged for help, but he replied in an irritated voice, "Bityah, stop making a scene. Just behave! "Lezah agreed to get along with you. You should learn from her and be more considerate. "From now on, I'll spend Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with you. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are hers." He then hung up. The house burned to the ground, and I died in the fire. He had already severed our mate bond. He didn't even sense that I was gone. Only Sylvia cried out in the flames. "Mommy! Mommy, please don't leave me!"

The day my elder sister stole my fiancé from me, I did not fight back. Instead, I slipped past the maid guarding me and went straight to find my father. “She can have my fiancé. I’m marrying the Regent!” My father stared at me in shock. Everyone knew the Regent was in charge, but rumors said he could not father a child and had a nasty temper. What they did not know was that I was born under heaven’s favor—blessed with the gift of life itself. In my previous life, that blessing became my curse. My elder sister and stepmother smeared my name, claiming that my curves and easy fortune meant I had been defiled before marriage. My fiancé was disgusted and turned away from me. That was when my sister seized the chance to take my place. Even on her wedding day, my sister was not at ease. She had me dragged away like a lowly servant and sent to a brothel, ordering the madam to torture me. While I lay dying in the dark, she lived in the light, bearing children with my former fiancé and enjoying a lifetime of happiness that should have been mine. Now that I had been given another life, I refused to bow to fate again. She might have stolen my fiancé, but she could never take the blessing I was born with.