A Thousand Years In Piano Notes Novels & Stories

I'm having a mental breakdown as I face a clogged drain with my feverish and fussing daughter in my arms. Meanwhile, my husband has reserved a hotel to celebrate another woman's birthday. My mother-in-law spits on the floor. "This is what you deserve. You can't even capture a man's heart!" I clench a fist around the winning lottery ticket in my pocket. I want to get a divorce.

In front of the orphanage gates, Rebecca Schwartz, the impoverished student I had been sponsoring, stood glaring at me with a face full of disdain. "If you don't let Freddie come along, I'm not going to your house either," she declared, her tone sharp and unyielding. In the past, blinded by love and hopelessly infatuated, I would have caved to her demands, humbling myself just to keep the peace. But things were different now—I had been reborn. Staring at this despicable pair, who had once caused my tragic demise, a tidal wave of fury surged within me. Yet, it settled into nothing more than a faint, icy smile on my lips. "Then stay here," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Rot in this place alongside your precious Freddie. After all, trash like you belong in the garbage heap."

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

My new next-door neighbour was a total hottie. He fixed my plumbing and brought over baked goods, basically the perfect gentleman. However, I could see a bright red stat hanging over his head. Malice Level: 1,111 It could only mean he was out to get me. One night, he snapped my stalker’s wrist, and red digits reset to zero. Somehow, his murder meter turned into a pink possessiveness score of 9,999+. He wiped the blood off his hand, his tone eerily gentle. “Who gave you the right to touch my prey?”

My show-quality service beastkin doesn't like me. He only wags his tail for my sister. I then bring home a low-grade venting beastkin. But he's now so upset that he's nearly in tears. "Layla Manfred, there can only be one hound, and that's me!"

My wife had called me in the middle of the night with a hint of drunkenness in her voice. She admitted to having too much to drink and asked me to come get her. I hurried to the private club she mentioned, only to find myself having to change into a bathrobe as soon as I got there. Surrounded by a group of wealthy women in their fifties, they playfully flirted and teased me relentlessly. Suddenly, a few of them pounced, pushing me to the ground and demanding I crawl like a dog. Despite the humiliation, my main concern was still my wife's wellbeing. Hours passed before she finally showed up, disheveled, supported by her male assistant, looking at me with a cold smirk. It was then that the truth hit me. This whole situation was a scheme she had orchestrated to please him. My anger rising, I called and spoke through gritted teeth, "Three days. I want every single business under the Spencers wiped out."

She’s the Editor-in-Chief. He’s the CEO who destroyed her heart. A year ago, August Wilmer walked out on Remy in the pouring rain, leaving her with nothing but devastation and a promise to herself: never again. Now, Remy is the successful Editor-in-Chief at the Daily Chronicles, a master of control. But her meticulously built world crashes when August returns as the company’s new CEO—and he’s engaged to a powerful heiress. Enter Cory, August’s charming stepbrother, who has patiently pursued Remy since the day August left. When the competition between the two brothers reaches a boiling point, Cory proposes a shocking solution to help Remy save face and protect her heart: a fake engagement, complete with a binding contract. Their sudden, high-profile 'relationship' successfully throws August into a jealous tailspin. But in the shark tank of the corporate world, Remy's integrity is questioned, forcing her to ask if her career—and her heart—can survive the dangerous game she’s playing. As the fake relationship starts to feel dangerously real, the Wilmer family’s secrets begin to surface. Remy realizes the mysterious circumstances of August’s departure, Cory’s devotion, and even her own job, are all tied to a painful, decades-old corporate conspiracy. To survive this war, Remy must choose between the brother who seeks to prove his love and the one who is fighting to reclaim her—before a legally binding contract seals her fate forever.

Carlo La Rosa is the Don of the La Rosa family. As for me, I'm just a plaything who's been delivered to his bed in order to clear off my family's debts. For the next three years, Carlo vents his carnal urges on me anyhow he wants. He doesn't do any foreplay. In fact, he doesn't even turn off the lights. Instead, he forces me to look at myself in the mirror. He wants to show me how he eventually devours me. "Take a good look at who's screwing you right now, Lydia!" Carlo is very rough with me in bed, as though he wants to merge with me. I beg him to be gentler with me, but all I get in return are harder thrusts. Those thrusts continue until I faint from the intensity. When I wake up, I see a black card and a morning-after pill on the nightstand. Even though I quickly take the pill, I still end up getting pregnant. I'm about to tell Carlo the news when I see the news on the TV. Apparently, he gets stabbed three times in a row just to protect his first love, Serena Sergio. It turns out that I'm just a plaything for him to vent his urges on. I'm not even considered a replacement. As I caress my belly, I drop my signature on the divorce agreement. Then, I snap the black card in half and leave the pieces on the table.

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

I was locked in a fridge for 40 days while the uncensored photos of me spread like wildfire across the internet. In the face of the salacious rumors about me, my mother reacted by reposting them. Then, she turned to warn my sister, "Look at how disgusting the entertainment industry is. Don't join it, alright? Stay home and inherit your sister's assets instead. My dearest daughter must be innocent and pure, unlike her." She forgot. She forgot I only joined this 'disgusting' industry to pay for her cancer treatment.