A Mixup At The Pool Table Novels & Stories

I still have a week before my due date when a truck suddenly hits me, sending me flying several feet and leaving me bleeding profusely on the ground. As I lose consciousness, I call my husband, Wallace Brown, begging him to rush over and save our unborn child, only for him to reply coldly, "It's Beth's 18th birthday party today, Meryl. You can't seriously be pulling one of your stunts on a day like this, can you?" In the next instant, I hear my son, Daniel Brown, exclaiming, "You're always using the baby to threaten us, Mommy! I really hate it when you do that!" Wallace stresses the importance of Beth's birthday party again, demands that I attend immediately, and then hangs up on me. With a pool of blood spreading beneath me, I close my eyes, overcome by despair. When I open my eyes again, I am met by the sight of a death certificate. The doctor delivers a crushing pronouncement. "I'm sorry, but if you had gotten here sooner, we might have been able to save the baby's life…" I look at the death certificate, feeling as though my heart died with my baby. I finally decide to leave this family, yet now they're the ones begging me to stay.

"Come this way." A man forward his hand towards the girl who looked confused over what was happening. She looked at his hand and then at him. "We need to go back." She took a deep breath and pleaded to him knowing what ever she will do he is not going to change his mind. The man smiled and took a step towards her closing their distance and cupped her face. "My Luna, you need to listen to your alpha, not to care about the pack. Now, should we go or you want me to you until the sun rises." The girl turned red and hit on the of the man who chuckled and pulled her closer, quickly leaving a peck on her lips. "Let me shift first." He winked at her and freed her arms.The girl turned her head towards the opposite side as a shy smile appeared on her face. Soon a t shirt fell on her head and she heard a chuckle.  "Stop teasing me." She pouted and folded the shirt in her hands. She hugged the t-shirt and waited for sometime to get the remaining clothes but there was silence around her. "Gavin." She softly called her husband's name but didn't get any reply. There was something wrong. This wasn't how this all happened. She quickly turned and saw her husband lying on the ground in a pool of blood. His eyes were lifeless and blood was still ozing out of the sharp wound on his .

On the night of the Blood Moon, a feral surge ripped through our territory. I ended up pinned under the ruins of our collapsing den. My mate—the Alpha of the Northern Pack, Kaius—abandoned me. He left me to rot so he could save his childhood sweetheart Lina. I didn't stop him. I let him go. In my last life, faced with the same choice, Kaius had chosen to save me first—back then, I was eight months pregnant. Because he was late to the rescue, Lina was torn apart by the beasts. She died in a pool of her own blood. Later, on the day I went into labor, Kaius dragged me to Lina’s grave. He stood there, stone-faced, watching me scream in agony on the dirt. He ignored every single plea. "Does it hurt, Elena? It’s not even a fraction of the pain Lina felt when she died!" "You were in a safe bunker that night, Kaius! Lina only died because you used our pup to blackmail me into staying!" "Lina suffered. Now, it’s your turn." He ignored my begging as blood soaked the ground beneath me. I died of a massive hemorrhage in the healer’s tent that night. Now, I’ve opened my eyes back on the day of the surge. This time, my pup and I aren't counting on him.

After the heir to the most powerful family in Kingsford was drugged at a party, I accidentally became the woman he spent the night with. I slipped out before sunrise, convinced I would never see him again. The very next day, his longtime childhood sweetheart tracked me down. She casually pushed a check for two hundred thousand dollars across the table and told me to disappear overseas. I was already tempted. But the moment I reached for the check, a voice suddenly echoed in my head. “Once she takes the money, I’ll report her for extortion and send her straight to prison. “Then I’ll pretend I was the woman that night, marry into the Carter family, and let her rot in jail forever.” A cold shiver shot down my spine. Honestly, she should’ve openly told me that. Anyone with a brain could tell the difference between two hundred thousand dollars and a lifetime of wealth and power.

I spent three hundred dollars on a brand-new phone for my mother, only for her to start saying that the smartphone was stealing her money and that I had personally siphoned off her bank balance. I could never win the argument. So I offered to just reimburse whatever “loss” she imagined. She got even more unhappy. She slapped a stack of receipts on the table and demanded I pay up. “Where did you buy this piece of junk? It’s a ticking time bomb. Give me my money back!” Most of the receipts were for men’s sneakers and athletic wear; the rest were household basics like brooms and hangers. I felt a wave of suffocating frustration. Since when was shopping free? Why was I expected to pay for her? I bought her a new phone, and I just became the ATM? “Fine. If you hate it that much, I’m taking it back to the store.” But she would not let go.

My husband, Daniel Thompson, looked down on me. I was just a farmer's daughter in his eyes, and he never loved the son I gave birth to. It wasn’t until our baby turned 100 days old that he held him for the first time. Then, one day, his first love, Claire Matthews, came back to the city. That night at dinner, Daniel, who was always cold and distant, finally smiled. He even reached across the table and placed a piece of meat on Noah’s plate. Noah beamed all evening, clutching onto that tiny gesture like it was a treasure. Just before bed, he whispered to me, "Mom, do you think he likes me now… even just a little?" I wrapped him in my arms, tears blurring my vision as I gently shook my head. "No, sweetheart. It’s because the woman he truly loves is back. It’s time for us to go."

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

I just woke up one day with a handsome vampire by my side, offering me a contract marriage. I knew it was like being courted by the devil, yet like a foolish lamb who laid herself on the sacrificial table, I reached for his hand, not knowing that it would consume my reckless heart. Eve was caught in a fight between vampires and werewolves after her vampire boyfriend left her. With her family and friends killed by an unknown vampire group, she is left with no choice but to ask for Landon's help, the vampire lord who saved her for his personal interest. Landon was a scheming man who holds many dark secrets, a devil who won't hesitate to consume the souls of his victims. He wants to play with Eve, to consume her little by little, but when his dead heart starts to feel warmth for the first time, he realized he found someone he is willing to burn a whole city for.

Every anniversary, Mark had some twisted surprise for me. Our tenth? He strutted into the ballroom holding hands with an escort wearing straight up lingerie. "Jenna, she's cold. Hand over your dress." Then, like that wasn't sick enough: "And the lingerie. She likes your vibe." I clutched my collar, trying to keep it together. He didn't care—just yanked it open. "Cut the act. Your dad sold you to me, remember? That slutty look you used to give me—I still see it." Everyone stared, waiting for me to break. So I did the one thing I could. "I want a divorce." Again. Mark just laughed and chucked a stack of photos on the table—me, covered in marks, curled in bed, a total mess. "You say that every year. And every year, you're back in my bed. Think your mom keeps that hospital spot if these get out?"

Eighteen and desperate due to my mother's illness, I enter the orbit of Enzo Lombardi, a powerful, feared mafia boss. He treats me with impossible sweetness, and I find myself sinking into his possessive love and lavish spoiling. Everything changes the day a woman named Isabella Gallo shows up. She claims she's the one Enzo truly loves, and she laughs as she slides a two-million-dollar check across the table, demanding that I leave him. I turn down the money. She then suggests we both send him a message at the same time and see who he cares about more. Holding on to one last bit of hope, I text Enzo that I'm in a car accident. Isabella, on the other hand, tells him her plane is about to land. I wait for his reply, but nothing comes. Instead, I watch as Isabella picks up his call. At that moment, I understood it was time for me to go.