1 Second After Novels & Stories

I was the perfect wife. Loyal, loving and patient. I gave him ten good years of my life— my inheritance, my body, my heart. I was beside him when he had nothing. I helped him build an empire he could call his. I treated his family like they were mine. And how did he repay me? With a mistress and a daughter I never knew existed. He thought I wouldn't find out— he thought I was too blind, too soft and too in love to see the cracks. But he's the one who made a mistake, he underestimated me. Now I'm done playing the fool and I won't leave empty handed. This time, I'm taking back everything— I'm done… I'll make him regret those ten years he spent deceiving me!

Seven years I’ve worn the title of Luna for Alpha Darius Thorn, chained to him by a forbidden ritual that poisoned my wolf and left me barren, broken, and whispering “useless” in every shadow. The healer’s words were ice: my wolf is dying. Reject him or mark him within a year, or I die with her. Darius refused both. So did the rest of the world. When I caught the laugh from his chambers, his mistress, heavy with the child I could never give..he sealed my fate. I looked him in the eye and spoke the words that shattered everything: “I reject you.” The bond ripped apart. Pain, then silence. And in that silence, something ancient in my blood finally stirred awake . Now the Alpha who once dismissed me feels only emptiness. And from the shadows of a buried massacre, a vengeful Lycan commander steps forward, drawn by the same spark in my veins, demanding blood for debts long owed. I was supposed to fade quietly. Instead, I’m rising. And no one is ready for what happens next.

Natalie Walker poured her heart and soul into loving Cedric Johnson for ten years, only to end up being burned to death by his lover.Cedric thought of that woman as nothing more than a housemaid. Even marriage wouldn't change her status. That was, until he received the news that she wanted a divorce..."Why do you want a divorce?" Cedric asked arrogantly, believing that this woman couldn't survive without him."Aren't you eager for me to die so you can be with your lover? I'm simply fulfilling your wish!" Natalie shot back as she laughed mockingly. "Cedric, I won't be blind again! Not in this lifetime!"Natalie, who had been reborn from the ashes, held the divorce papers and kicked the scumbag and his mistress to the curb.At a press conference for her company, the media asked, "We heard that you initiated the divorce. Could you tell us the reason?"Natalie responded calmly, "It was simply time to let go."That fire had consumed all her emotions.Looking back, it was nothing more than a long-planned trap set for her.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

On my wedding day, my fiancée's adopted younger brother, Jason Sanders, suddenly stood up to toast us as we were exchanging rings. "The first toast is for my sister. She gave herself to me last night so that I wouldn't feel insecure, making me her first man." After he said that, he kissed my fiancée, ignoring the strange looks from everyone. "The second toast is for my brother-in-law. Don't be fooled by my sister's usual aloof demeanor around you; she's actually very passionate in bed. Even though you're impotent, you've still struck gold." My fiancée, Wendy Sanders, covered his mouth in a hurry and tried to laugh it off. "He’s just rambling because he's drunk. Just ignore him." But Jason broke free from Wendy and looked at me challengingly. "The third toast is for everyone. Since Wendy is getting married today, I would like to personally put the ring on her finger. I'm sure no one has any objections, right?"

Once upon a time, in a land hidden where immortals exist, Alessia Condor was killed as Lady Elena, the woman destined to marry the king of Valeria. Reincarnated in modern Philippines, Alessia finds herself again in the world she doesn't belong in--or so she thinks. *** Alessia was applying for a job when she drowns with her sister and wakes up in a strange land where immortality, demons, and monsters exist. To protect herself, Alessia disguises as the boy Ales, who later becomes Elijah Rafael El Valeria's royal doctor-the more than four thousand year-old king of Valeria, the first immortal. In her game of deception and lies, who is bound to lose-Elijah, who slowly falls in love with Ales, or Alessia, who can only watch while her sister, thought to be the reincarnation of Elena, gets married to Elijah to end the curse.

My wife was a surgeon. She saved plenty of lives in her career. However, the only person she failed to save was me. When I was involved in an accident with her long-time crush, she immediately saved him instead. I had been dead for three months, and that was when she realized the person who had been messaging her during this time was not me and started to panic.

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older sisters brought home a fifteen-year-old orphaned boy. My Alpha sister seized the rare healing herbs I'd spent all my savings on — herbs meant to ease my first shift — and gave them to him instead. "You're strong enough," she growled. "You don't need such precious herbs." My Beta sister snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. "Get out! Don't come back!" I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left. They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I'd return in a few days. My sisters, finally free of my presence, took the orphan boy on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted an offer from the neighboring pack's Head Healer. The position required fifteen years of isolated herbal research. I could never return home. That night, they fell apart.

I used to be the apple of my family's eye, but Suzanne Nilson changed that when she showed up on my birthday with a DNA test result. The Nilson family cruelly kicks me to the curb and throws me back to my biological parents, leading to me being sold off to the village idiot. Xavier Gubbens, with whom I've grown up, kicks the door down and saves me. Later, he etches a word on my face. "Do you think you're done repenting for your sins with this, Suzanne Nilson?" Later still, his eyes are red as he pleads, "Can't we go back to how things used to be?" How things used to be? There's no such thing. Everyone has to look to the future.

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.