Actually Good Novels & Stories

Having been in a two-year long-distance relationship with my girlfriend, Kayleigh Richards, I finally have time to visit her family for the holidays. In doing so, I want to hash out the details of our upcoming wedding as well. What I didn't expect is that Kayleigh would actually show up with a hooligan at the banquet. She even goes as far as to terminate our engagement in front of everyone. The hooligan, Gerald Shaw, looks at me haughtily. A trace of mockery can be seen in his eyes when he notices how wretched I look. "What makes you think you can fight with me over my woman? Kay, how the heck did you even fall for this wretched-looking beggar in the first place? He's even carrying an old sack with him! Don't tell me he just came back from collecting the trash!" All of Kayleigh's relatives who are present at the banquet roar in laughter. My future mother-in-law even shoves me in an attempt to kick me out. I merely gaze at Kayleigh calmly. "Are you sure you want to choose him?" Kayleigh sneers at me in return. "You're just a stupid miner! Gerald's dad is the owner of the gold mine, you know!" I raise an eyebrow at her words. Then, I open the woven sack I've brought with me. The gold bricks that scatter from the sack shine brightly under the light. "Oh? I have no idea that my gold mine has somehow become someone else's property."

The conference room had started leaking, so my fiancé, Zack Tim, and I moved to a hotel to continue discussing work. We had barely taken out our documents when the door was suddenly kicked open. “Welcome to tonight’s first live bust from the Cheaters on Catch team, a special Valentine’s edition! Just look at her and her plastic surgery. She has the face of a homewrecker…” Amidst my confusion, a storm of punches and insults came crashing down on me. Zack, on the other hand, was gagged, tied up, and dragged to the side. They tore up my contracts, ripped apart my custom-made outfit, and kicked my unborn child to death. The streamer clapped her hands cheerfully. “That’s it for today’s livestream! Client, don’t forget to leave us a good review.” If they thought they could walk out that door, well, I’d be damned.

Giselle Shaw, the intern, has sent a five-dollar bonus to the company's group chat that has 500 members in it. I get crowned as the luckiest person for being able to claim 20 cents from the bonus. So, Giselle tags me in the group chat immediately. "Hey Rebecca! Since you're the luckiest person in the group chat, why don't you send a bonus here? There are 500 people in this group chat altogether, so you can just send 5,000 dollars here. "5,000 dollars isn't much for you, right? It so happens to be the bonus you've received from Mr. Gallagher because of the project you've secured. You can send us the bonus so that we can get some good luck from you!" The moment I refuse, Giselle begins playing the pity card in the group chat by claiming that she can't reap good luck for everyone in the company. My boyfriend, Vincent Gallagher, rushes into my office and starts berating me angrily. "Rebecca Campbell, just how stingy are you to not want to send a five-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat despite being a higher-up in this company? You even made a young woman cry! Is this how you do things? "You'd better send a 50-thousand-dollar bonus to the group chat right now and write a five-thousand-word apology letter by hand! I want you to sincerely apologize to Giselle as well! Otherwise, I'll break up with you! You can forget about retaining your position in this company, too!"

My husband, Tyler Stone, has been dead for seven years. One day, he suddenly comes back to life. Not only does he bring another woman home with him, but he even wants me to give up my position as his wife. "Ruth almost lost her eyes saving me, and I've promised to marry her. Sign the divorce agreement, and I won't kick you out of the house." I'm briefly silent before saying, "I've actually married someone else." He rolls his eyes. "As if. Everyone knows you're desperately in love with me!"

I donated 45 million to the city's best kindergarten, but my daughter failed the enrollment interview. She was a polymath. Furious, I demanded an explanation from admissions. She hurled an assessment file at my face. "Your daughter's brilliant, but you're the exact opposite! You're dead last among the parents!" She continued, "The others have tech domes! You're nothing but a regular Ivy League graduate! Your degree's worth about as much as toilet paper!" The other teachers laughed as well. "If we admit her daughter, it's going to look bad on the other kids. She can't take that responsibility." "Yeah, I can't believe she's demanding an explanation from Ms. Johnson. Her husband is the kindergarten's biggest stakeholder. He can make sure her daughter has nowhere to go." The admission teacher shoved me away. With disdain in her eyes, she said, "Out of my sight if you know what's good for you. My husband is picking me up in his Rolls-Royce. His car plate alone is worth more than your life! It's lucky 777! Only one in Georgeport!" Three sevens? That was my husband's car. I laughed mirthlessly and texted my husband. "I had no idea you had another wife behind me."

After my daughter was seriously injured in a car accident and suffered heavy bleeding, she was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. When it was time to sign the surgical consent form, the nurse suddenly snapped the medical file shut and pressed it down firmly. "Hospital regulations state that only immediate family members can sign the surgical consent form. What proof do you have that you are the child's father?" I was stunned. "She is my biological daughter. Do I still need to prove it to you?" The nurse retorted, "Birth certificates can be forged. How do we know the child wasn't abducted by you? If you cannot prove it, we cannot proceed with the surgery." Seeing the nurse's self-righteous expression, I trembled with anger. "I am signing the surgical consent form for my own biological daughter. Do I need to provide DNA evidence as well?" She curled her lip. "These are hospital regulations. We are being responsible for the patient. If you cannot prove the child is yours, we will report you to the police for child trafficking." After saying that, she actually called security to report it and loudly accused me of being a human trafficker. Report me to the police? I took out my police uniform from my bag and put it on. I'd show her what a split-second response was.

On the day the SAT results are revealed, the fake heiress, Layla Sanders, colluded with our homeroom teacher, Richard Hoffman, to report me for cheating during the exam. When I stared at both copies of the exam papers that showed the same steps and formulas, I couldn't defend myself at all. In order to preserve Layla's pride, my own parents actually forced me to admit to stealing the exam questions in advance. Then, they had me forcibly admitted into a mental asylum. The Sanders family claimed that I had gone crazy just so they could keep this particular skeleton sealed in the closet. They abandoned me, letting me be tormented endlessly in the asylum. When I finally escaped from the asylum, I died in a car crash that was meticulously staged by Layla. Only on the verge of my death did I finally realize that the so-called "blood is thicker than water" mentality was nothing compared to a tear shed by Layla. The moment I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn in the exam hall. This time, I choose to submit my exam paper without anything scribbled on it. I'd like to see just how someone with a total of zero points can possibly copy off the so-called top scorer of SAT.

My name is Samantha Lane. I've forgotten to pay the taxes, and the company's accounts are now frozen. I'm not panicking, but my husband's foster sister, Zoey Quinn, is losing her mind. In my previous life, Zoey was the one who suggested using her summer bonus to take the entire company on a trip to Slarqia. What I didn't expect was that her supposed generosity would drain every cent from the company's account. As a result, the company's cash flow collapsed, and I was left buried under hundreds of millions in debt. When I went to her to ask for the money back, she leaned smugly against my husband's chest and said, "Samantha, I only spent a few tens of millions. How could that bankrupt the company? Don't be so dramatic!" My husband, Harry Jennings, glared at me with his face twisted in anger. "Samantha, the company's money is marital property. I agreed to let Zoey spend it. Back off, alright?" I wanted to report it to the police, but they abducted me and smuggled me out of the country. I ended up being tortured to death. When my coworkers heard the news, they actually cheered. They said I had it coming, like some heartless capitalist had finally gotten her karma. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Zoey is inviting everyone on a trip to Slarqia.

My mom ran a clinic her whole life, charging just five dollars for cold medicine. After I took over the clinic, I followed her teachings closely, doing my best to care for the folks in our community. However, after I charged an influencer 30 dollars for medication, I got blasted online as a scam clinic that was out to rob people blind. The entire town showed up at my door, young and old alike, demanding I return the 'overcharged' fees. I gave them exactly what they wanted and refunded every penny before shutting down the clinic for good. "There you go, just like you wanted. The clinic's closed. From now on, if you've got health concerns, feel free to drive 30 miles to the county hospital for consultation. I wish you all good health." The very next day, they were back at my door again. Only this time, they were begging me to reopen.

Can you believe this? I was just some random fake-sweet girl online, then boom—the richest couple in Rivora City showed up waving fifty million, begging me to be their daughter-in-law. All because their son—the golden boy who was supposed to have it all—threw everything away simping for some broke school beauty. "If that tramp actually loved him, fine. But instead, she keeps rejecting him while milking his name for her family." "Our son's obsessed with that manipulative girl? Then we'll find someone faker. More manipulative. Fight poison with poison." Yeah... that stung a little. But a black card with fifty mil? Hard to stay offended. I signed on to "rescue" their hopeless son. Then I opened the file and laughed. That tramp? My sister. The same snake I crushed years ago.