Mind Reading

My long-term relationship has finally paid off. At the wedding venue, my fiancee, Dakota Young, has just begun sliding the ring onto my finger when her first love, Kyle Robinson, calls her all the way from the country he's currently studying in. All of my friends know of Dakota as the woman who loves me more than life itself. But this very same woman doesn't hesitate to bolt in the airport's direction with red-rimmed eyes after answering the phone call. My hand is left frozen in mid-air. That's when I suddenly start seeing live comments before my eyes. "Holy hell! I just took a glimpse at the profile picture of her first love! He looks exactly like the corpse who's delivered to my department!" "Seriously? Don't go around scaring me right now! I believe in the power of science!" "Either he has a twin, or you just got the wrong person! Stay calm!" My jaw goes slack, yet I can't utter a word after a while. I know who Kyle is. That man used to be her classmate back in college. But I also remember very clearly that he's the only child in his family…

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

There's a little shop downstairs that sells organ soup. It's always packed with customers. People line up as if bewitched, eager for a bowl. I've often wondered what secret ingredient made their soup so irresistible. This afternoon, I finally found my answer. Floating in my bowl was a piece of human skin—inked with a tattoo I knew all too well. It was the one etched on my boyfriend's arm.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."

Each of my three ex-boyfriends ends up committing suicide right after eating food that my mother, Florence Winters, makes. Their deaths are very different from one another, with the only similarity being that they all eat food made by Mom before they die. Mom goes viral in an instant. She becomes the center of everyone's attention, and she is even taken away by the police. But they never manage to find anything wrong with any of the food she makes. I don't dare to get into another relationship. I pack my things and move out of the house, leaving Mom. Two years later, Mom shows up at my engagement party. She proceeds to feed my fiance, Lawrence Smith, some food…

My sister leaves some last words before committing suicide, and everyone who sees those words die. My grandmother is the first to go, and then my father. In the end, even my mother jumps off a 30-story building. The reporters fall over themselves trying to score an interview with me, and the police interrogate me. Countless people want to know what my sister's last words are. However, I keep my silence until my sister's tenth death anniversary. I see a figure before her grave, and I'm agitated beyond imagination. I know it's time for death to take me.

As Christmas drew near, my little sister claimed she’d seen Santa Claus in the house. “He had four legs, real long, like dead branches. He crawled on the floor like a dog. His mouth was full of teeth, and I saw him with my own eyes, climbing out of the chimney. His bones were making this clicking, clacking sound.” The Santa she described was nothing like the legends. My parents and I thought it was just her imagination. Until I posted about it online. A user named “NocturneNotes” insisted my sister wasn’t lying, and that the thing was dangerous. Panicked, I asked him what we should do. He gave me three rules: “On Christmas Eve, from 11:30 PM to 2:00 AM, the entire family must ‘sleep’ by the Christmas tree.” “You can’t actually fall asleep, or you’ll die in your sleep.” “No matter what you hear or feel, you absolutely cannot open your eyes or stop pretending to be asleep. Once it hits 2:00 AM, it will leave on its own.”

He just got a breakup text from his girlfriend of two years. She, in turn, had just gotten stood up by her fiancé, who had planned a dinner date for that night, only to ignore her at the last minute. Winston and Ivy were just two strangers, both abandoned on Easter's Eve by the people they loved. They found themselves drawn together in the elegant Luciano’s restaurant, and in that shared moment of heartbreak, they found comfort in each other’s company, exchanging laughter and stories over a quiet table. What starts as a simple, playful connection soon deepens into something neither expected… a bond that grows stronger with each smile. But when their pasts come crashing back, and their exes threaten to tear them apart, will their newfound love thrive? Or will the hurts of their pasts force them to let go before their love story truly begins?

Zane Kessler, tough captain of the Thunder Wolves, has spent years vowing to crush Jaxon Caldwell, the fast, clever captain of the Storm Hawks. Their rivalry is brutal… hard checks, sharp words, pure hatred on the ice. But after Zane's team loses their biggest game of the season, Jaxon finds him alone in the empty locker room. An argument flares… then a simple touch turns into a soft, surprising kiss. Hate suddenly feels warm and confusing. From that moment, their rivalry begins to melt into something sweeter and deeper. But the hockey world isn't kind to feelings like this. Coming out could destroy their careers, and their teams would never forgive the captains falling for the enemy. Then the league drops the bombshell… the Thunder Wolves and Storm Hawks must merge into one team for the upcoming National Championship. To foster unity, Zane and Jaxon are forced to share a small apartment near the rink. They share the same space, the same locker room, and literally breathe the same air. At first it feels like torture… bumping into each other in the kitchen, sharing the couch after tough games, trying to act like nothing has changed. But the walls come down fast. Quiet talks turn into laughter. Simple meals become excuses to sit close. Stolen kisses in the dark hallway feel like winning the biggest game of their lives. Now they must lead their new team to the title while hiding a love that grows stronger every day. One wrong glance, one slip, and it could shatter everything… the championship, their careers, and the beautiful thing they’ve finally found. On the ice they were sworn enemies. Off it, they’re falling hard. And the closer they get, the more impossible it is to let go. Who will surrender first?

My relationship with my husband started when we were students. Even then, many people were envious of us. However, everything is ruined when I'm sullied after a drunken night. My reputation goes down the drain, as does my chastity. I've been caught red-handed—the man beside me in bed isn't my husband. I later find out that my husband is the one who set me up to take the fall. It's all because he wanted to save his true love—a woman he could never have.