All Short Stories & Novels

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

My answers were a 100% match with my younger brother, Jacob Scott's, answers for 20 consecutive major exams. No matter how fast I completed my exam papers, he would always manage to complete his one second ahead of me. My class teacher had talked about this to me three times, and I was given a warning for cheating. When my classmates saw me, they said, "Hey, copycat, did you get caught again?" How could our answers be the same when I had never touched his papers at all? This continued until our SATs, when I suddenly saw a live chat overlay floating in the air. [Jacob is the chosen one. It must feel great for him to suddenly have the power to read minds! [He's been getting all the right answers by reading Jonah's mind. It doesn't matter that Jonah is a genius when he's relegated to a stepping stone for Jacob's road to success!] When I read through the exam papers, I started humming the alphabet song, "A, B, C, D, E, F, G…"

After I set up the camera, I realized the clients booked for a family portrait were the parents and older brother I'd run from five years earlier. The moment our eyes met, my mother's smile froze. Her eyes went red, and she asked uncertainly, "Remy... is that you?" "You're alive?" With one finger resting on the shutter, I reminded them, "Keep smiling. Look at the camera." My father shot to his feet. "Are you really this spiteful? Five years of hiding from us. What grievance in a family takes five years to get over?" I looked at the dog beside my brother, also named Remy, and couldn't understand what he was angry about. They were the ones who'd spent my whole childhood telling me I existed for one reason: to be marrow for my brother. Even the dog got to be in the family portrait I wasn't allowed in as a child. I gave up on that family a long time ago.

I accidentally stumbled upon numerous explicit videos on my husband's computer while tidying up his desk. The videos showed him in bed with my unmarried best friend. The relationship between my husband and me had been platonic ever since I gave birth 40 years ago. His reason was that he was no longer capable of physical intimacy. Now, it felt like my entire life had been a sham, despite all my efforts for my family.

I’m Daisy Valence. Eighteen. The favorite daughter of the Valence family. I woke up and found myself eight years in the future. Not only was I married to my nemesis, Lorenzo Astor, but we had a four-year-old son. Even crazier, the future me was a stone-cold snake, plotting to gut Lorenzo's operation while planning to run off with her "lover" after the divorce. And this "lover"? Just some nobody from the slums I was bankrolling. I must have lost my mind. Just as I was about to cut ties with all of them and get my free, single life back... I found the love letters Lorenzo wrote me, a secret stash of things I’d used, and a phone filled with my pictures… Then he grabbed me, his eyes bloodshot, and held me so tight I could barely breathe. He growled, "Who the hell gave you permission to leave me?" "I never agreed to any divorce, my wife."

In my previous life, I am reunited with the Duran family. To protect the adopted girl, my brother, Adrian Duran, frames me for causing her illness to flare up. My parents believe him and throw me out of the house. Not long afterward, I die from illness on the streets. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I am brought back to the Duran residence. Adrian stands before our parents and points at me. "Mom, Dad, she's not my sister." The Durans look at me with disappointment before turning around and leaving. I stand there silently and do not take out the crystal pendant that can prove my identity. Instead, I quietly walk back to the orphanage. 20 years later, I become one of the country's leading cardiologists. The man sitting across from me hands over a medical file and speaks in a trembling voice. "Doctor, please... please save my sister." I pause when I see the name. My gaze settles on his worn and exhausted face. After staring at him for a long moment, I finally look up and say, "I won't be taking this patient."

The day before my engagement to Dean was announced, his childhood sweetheart falsely claimed I had broken her fingers when she was playing the piano. Dean flew into a rage and made me join the medical relief team in Loasia. Now that I was abandoned with just the clothes on my back, I had no choice but to fend for myself. Not long after, I was informed that he was getting married. Everyone bet that I would fly back to steal him away. After all, I had been head over heels in love with him. However, I never appeared even at the end of the wedding. I didn't even call him. I had vanished into thin air. … Five years later... A man, heavily injured from a car crash, arrived at the emergency department. His significant other demanded that he be operated on by the hospital director. I calmly held up my scalpel in the operating theatre, my face hidden behind a surgical mask. "Administer the anesthesia." Before he could be sedated, the man suddenly grabbed my wrist. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he demanded weakly, "Eve, is that you?" I pulled his hand away from mine and shot the anesthetist a look. "The patient is aggravated. Increase the dosage."

As a low-income student who's specifically recruited by the elite college this year, I can still feel my hands trembling as I clutch the letter that tells me I get to study for free. Not only are my tuition and miscellaneous fees waived, but I also get to receive 30 thousand dollars' worth of student grant per year. I even get to have free access to the leather seats inside the library, the equipment inside the gym, as well as the aerial garden on the roof. The best surprise for me has to be the cafeteria. All low-income students get a 50% discount on their meals, but the quality of their food doesn't decrease at all. Best beef is used in the steak dinners offered by the cafeteria, whereas a seafood platter showcases the entire huge lobster. Even the most basic mac and cheese meal has different types of freshly grated cheese baked into it. As I sit in the brightly lit classroom and look at the rich students around me, who wear custom-made uniforms and have branded watches latched around their wrists, all I have is one thought. I must be on good terms with them. But my seatmate, who's also a low-income student, isn't as thrilled as me. In fact, she just looks at the people around her with disdain in her eyes. After the first lesson, a rich student arrives at our table. He might not sound polite at all, but at least he's not putting on airs. "Do any of you have time to head over to the cafeteria and buy me breakfast?" I'm about to respond to him when a shrill voice booms out next to me. "You're so annoying! What, you think you rule the campus since you're rich? Had I known that this classroom is filled with useless scions like you who just waste their lives away on nothing, I wouldn't have enrolled in this college in the first place!"

My little sister Celine was six years old when hunters caught her. They kept her in a silver cage for three days. By the time our parents found her, the damage was done. She came home with seizures and PTSD. The healer said any loud noise, strong smell, or sudden stress could trigger an episode and put her life at risk. So my entire life was rearranged around her silence. I learned to walk quietly, speak quietly, cry quietly, so that nothing about me would ever reach her. Whenever I broke down from the exhaustion of it, my parents would hold my face in their hands and say the same thing. "You're the strong one, Iris. This family needs you to be strong. Can you keep this to yourself, just until your sister catches up?" I always said yes. Then one evening, I knocked over a vase. The sound sent Celine into another episode, and in his panic, Father shoved me hard enough that I stumbled backward into the antique silver statue behind me. It tore straight through my back, into my lung, inches from my heart. I called out for my parents. "Stop performing," my mother snapped, not even looking my way. "Can't you see the state your sister is in?" "I did not do it on purpose," I whispered, but my voice had already gone too weak to carry. My father only spared me a glance of irritation. "Iris, are you satisfied now? Your sister has barely been stable these past few days, and you still found a way to set her off." The silver kept burning deeper with every heartbeat. I dragged my fingers weakly across the floor, leaving a thin streak of red behind me, and still no one turned around. By the time anyone thought to check on me, the room had already gone silent around my body.

When Jonathan Shaw brings his seventh pregnant mistress to me for the delivery, his friends start taking bets on how long it'll take before I break down. But even after the baby's cries echo through the delivery room, they never hear me lose control. "Come on, this is the seventh one. Are you sure she isn't done with you this time?" Jonathan shrugs. "She can't have children, and I've got a family legacy to carry on. I'll end up having kids with other women so they can inherit the family business either way. I might as well have a few now and let her get used to it." As soon as he finishes speaking, I walk out carrying the newborn. Following standard procedure, I announce, "Congratulations. He weighs seven pounds, six ounces. Both the mother and the baby are doing well." Jonathan smiles as he takes the baby from my arms. Then, he hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it," he orders. "It's just an act to humor her. She refuses to have our second child unless I divorce you first. Once the second baby's born, we'll have eight kids." I've gone along with his little charade seven times already. This time, I sign my name without hesitation. Jonathan seems to have forgotten one thing. It's not that I can't have children. We're just genetically incompatible. If I want a child, I just have to find a different man. Why would I spend the rest of my life raising someone else's children just to stay married to him?

The mother of Mr. Burr, the hospital director, was critically ill and needed emergency surgery. My wife, wanting to help her beloved crush, Cedric Grey, take the spotlight, deliberately kept the surgery time from me. By the time I finally arrived—late, Mr. Burr stopped me from entering the operating room and scolded me harshly for being unprofessional and unethical. Once I realized what my wife was doing, I handed the lead surgeon position over to her beloved crush. “Well, since you're so eager to shine,” I said coldly, “you’d better not screw it up.” The nurses tried to talk me out of it. They said I was being impulsive, that this was a rare chance to prove myself. However, none of them knew that I was the only doctor in the entire country capable of performing this rare and complex heart valve surgery. Even if Cedric managed to buy time with some miracle drug and made it look like the patient was improving, without my diagnosis and surgical skills, the operation was doomed to fail. And when that happens, he’d be held responsible. As for my wife, her blind favoritism would come back to haunt her.

My husband has a PhD in medicine. He's fair, just, and kind… until the day his true love kills someone in an accident. He uses all the medical knowledge he has to help her get off scot-free. He turns the corpse into preserved specimens and displays them in his lab. When he's dealing with the corpse, he sees that there's an embryo in the womb. He's always been calm and composed, but he can't stop his heart from racing at the sight. What he doesn't know is that the corpse is mine, and the embryo is his child…

As the only daughter of the Hawthorne family, I entered an arranged marriage with Adrian, the heir to the vampire ancient clan. Adrian was attentive, gentle, and deeply devoted to me. Until that day. His childhood sweetheart, Elara, became pregnant after getting involved with a lower-class vampire and turned to him for help. To protect her baby from being rejected by the ruthless vampire families, Adrian publicly claimed that Elara’s baby was his. As for me and the child I was carrying, Adrian told us to wait. At least until Elara could give birth safely, he said, he couldn’t acknowledge me or our child. His parents accused me of infidelity, saying I had disgraced the vampire bloodline and dishonored the Hawthorne name. They forced me to terminate my pregnancy. Meanwhile, Adrian was on the other side of the world, caring for Elara. By the time he finally returned, I had already disappeared from his world.

During the Christmas holidays, my parents began our family meeting with the yearly "family support vote." Our family's only recommendation letter for Oxford's architecture program lay on the table. My name had originally been on it. "I vote for Camilla." My older brother, Evan Prescott, was the first to raise his hand. "She just went through a breakup. She needs to get away to Europe for a while." "I vote for Camilla too." My mother kept filing her nails as she talked. "Selena can go to community college. Camilla's grades are bad. Without a recommendation letter, she won't get in anywhere." My father didn't hesitate. He slid the recommendation letter across the table to Camilla. "Three votes to one, Selena. It's settled." My younger sister, Camilla Prescott, picked up the letter and smiled sweetly. "Thanks, Selena. You've always been the independent one. I knew you wouldn't hold this against me." I looked at that letter. To earn it, I'd stayed up late for six straight months and drawn more than 300 designs. To them, all my hard work was just a way to get my sister's foot in the door. I stood up. I didn't cry, and I didn't demand an explanation. "Fine. If that's how you voted, give it to her." I turned, walked back to my room, and pulled out the suitcase I'd packed a long time ago. What they didn't know was that my own designs had already earned me an offer of direct admission to Harvard. That letter felt like a handout. I wanted nothing to do with it.

My sister and I were mated with a pair of twin werewolves. She mated with the black wolf—strong, imposing, and the Alpha heir to the wolf pack. But he was cold and desireless by nature, with a violent temper that made her life after forming the mate bond unbearable. He often turned on her, leaving her battered and broken. I, on the other hand, mated with the frail white wolf, who was gentle, considerate, and seemingly weak. Yet with patience and intelligence, he eventually became the Alpha of the pack. Jealousy consumed my sister. She poisoned me, ending my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the day we were choosing our mates. My sister hurriedly reached for the white wolf. I smiled. Did she really think the white wolf was harmless?

[The story about my son cutting ties with us is all an act. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no way my daughter would have willingly handed over the money!] During the long holiday weekend, I was killing time at my desk when I randomly clicked on a Reddit post. Maybe it was because I also had a younger brother who had cut ties with the family. The night he slammed the door and left, my parents seemed to age ten years overnight. From that day on, I became their only source of support. Every month, I send them five hundred dollars for living expenses. Even when I wasn’t feeling well, I forced myself to work. Meanwhile, the post kept updating. [I raised her for over ten years. What's wrong with spending some of her money? Her brother is still short of fifty thousand dollars for the down payment on his house. We need the money before the holiday ends.] I wanted to keep reading, but my manager called me into a meeting. That evening, while we were having dinner, Mom spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I need to discuss something with you, sweetheart…” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason, the last line from that post flashed through my mind. [I'll just tell her the business is in debt and that we need her money. She's always been a good child. She'll surely do what I ask.] “Mom… you and Dad aren’t in debt, are you?”

We were on a field trip to the Holy State of Aram, when the prom queen, Susie Lambert, complained about the hot weather and called for a bikini party. My boyfriend Ken insisted on bringing the whole class along just to satisfy her whim, even though I warned him, "That's against the law, and visitors who are found guilty will be remanded, if not killed…" He slapped me across the face and snapped, "Don't try to scare us! You're just jealous that Susie's got a nice bod, and you don't want to see us being happy together!" Everyone else in the class roared in approval too. "Exactly! You already took Ken away from Susie, and you'd now come up with such bullshit!" I was furious and frustrated, but for their sake, I spoke to Mrs. Dent, the class teacher. She scolded everyone when she realized what they were doing and called off the bikini party. However, Susie got so upset that she ran off alone and flaunted her bikini at the beach anyway, and she was caught before being executed as a spy by zealots. Ken blamed it all on me. In the middle of the night, he sneaked into my home and set fire to it with gasoline, killing my entire family. Afterward, the entire class testified on his behalf to create an alibi. But I opened my eyes again and found myself returning to that day when Susie goaded everyone to join her bikini party. This time, I simply smiled. "Go ahead, enjoy yourselves all you want!"

My boyfriend got a tenure-track offer from Ashford University—and the night he found out, he cried in my arms for hours. Before he left the country, he held my hand, looking guilty. "Babe, the cost of living over there is insane, and you probably won't be able to find a decent job. Once I get settled, I'll bring you over in style…" He paused, waiting for me to appreciate how "considerate" he was being. What he didn't know was that just half an hour earlier, I'd overheard him on the balcony. "Don't worry, the tickets are booked. We're going together. No way I'm leaving you behind." On the other end of the line was his gentle, sweet junior. He'd spent years looking down on my education, always saying I couldn't understand his "soul." But every time I handed him my tips from waiting tables and delivering takeout—stained envelopes, greasy and crumpled—he'd take them like he was doing me a favor. What he also didn't know was that I'd long since gotten tired of playing the "I'll work to put you through school" bit. I only started dating him because he was cute—I wanted a little thrill. I just didn't expect to keep the act going for three years. And for a second here and there, I almost believed it myself. I was already looking for an excuse to dump him. Then he handed me one on a silver platter. So when he gave his little speech, I barely held back a smile as I fixed his collar. "Okay. Then take good care of yourself over there. I'm gonna be late for my night shift. Gotta go." I turned around and called my best friend. "Book me a table at VIVA tonight. I'm single again—time to party."

I've dated Andrew Carter, my surgeon boyfriend, for seven years. We plan 66 weddings, and he cancels every single one for Selena Merrick. The first time, Selena botched a patient's injection. "Wait for me," he said, and I waited the entire day. The second time, she slipped and fell in the shower. We were just about to exchange rings, but he ditched me at the altar without a second thought, leaving me to face the ridicule from the guests. For all 65 weddings I held, Selena always found an excuse to lure Andrew away. At the 65th wedding, she claimed her dog was dying and threatened to take her life. My mom collapsed from stress-induced angina, yet Andrew still ran to Selena. Afterward, he kneels and begs us for forgiveness. "Selena is just a pitiful orphan, but you're the one I'll always love," he declares. I give him one last chance, yet he never fails to disappoint me. That is it. I break up with Andrew and join Doctors without Borders. Goodbye. Let's never meet again.

I'm the neglected real son of the Duncans, Austin Duncan. By the time my family finally brings me home, the fake heir, Edward Duncan, has already been carefully groomed into the perfect successor. I'm nothing more than a country bumpkin. Edward goes through with a prestigious arranged marriage and becomes the son-in-law of the powerful Cooper family. As for me, I'm unceremoniously married off to Clara Prescott, the illegitimate daughter of the Prescott family, whom no one acknowledges. Everyone looks at me with contempt. I assume Clara is no different. But she smiles at me and says, "Austin, we aren't free to choose for the first half of our lives. But I'll protect you from now on." I truly believe she's different. But when she emerges victorious in the Prescott family's power struggle and becomes the CEO of Prescott Group, the very first thing she does after taking control is force the Cooper family into bankruptcy and bring Edward back to her side. Only then do I finally realize that Clara is no different. The one she loves has always been Edward.