Akinari Social Link Novels & Stories

Ten years ago, the Harrington family went through a home invasion. My mother, a maid, shielded Liam with her life. Holding my hands tight, Liam promised, "Andrea, don't worry. I'll protect you forever." I believed him. Our bond grew naturally, and we had a beautiful daughter together. Then, she was diagnosed with leukemia. In her last days, all she wanted was to spend one birthday with her dad. I called him, desperate to make it happen. "Millie doesn't have much time left. All she wants is one birthday with you. Can you come?" His voice on the other end went icy. "Really? This your latest stunt? Using your dead mom wasn't enough, now it's our daughter for pity? Disgusting." I tried to deny it, but he cut me off. "Don't mess with her head. Learn from Vivian—she's got a real heart." That night, our daughter passed away. Later, Vivian posted on social media: [Finally taking that couples' trip someone promised me!] I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I just texted Liam: [We're done.]

It was only a sixty-second dare: Kiss the campus "Ghost" and keep my crown. I never expected that the boy in the thrift-store hoodie would be the one to ruin me. To the students at St. Jude’s, Elias Thorne is a scholarship nobody. To me, he was social suicide—a boy beneath my notice. But when I pressed my lips to his, the world didn’t just catch fire. It exploded. One night of frantic, impulsive mistakes in the back of a car was supposed to be my dark secret. I was the Ice Queen; I was supposed to wake up, wash the taste of him off my tongue, and go back to being perfect. I was wrong. Elias isn't a ghost anymore. He’s a shadow that follows me into every room. He has my secret caught on camera, and he has a hunger in his eyes that scares me more than the scandal. He doesn't want my apology, and he doesn't want my money. He wants me. Now, every time I see him in the hallway, my heart hammers against my ribs—not with disgust, but with a terrifying, suffocating craving. I’m supposed to be the one sitting on the throne, but Elias Thorne is the one holding the crown... and he’s not letting go. He was the nerd I was dared to kiss. Now, I'm the obsession he's determined to keep.

Ara Sandoval is a strikingly beautiful and highly intelligent young housemaid whose ethereal allure possesses the rare, almost dangerous power to make any man lose his sanity and composure. Content with her quiet, unassuming life in the opulent Madrid household, she finds her world thrown into utter chaos when her wealthy employer’s son and daughter return from years of studying abroad in America. Nathan Madrid, the charismatic and accomplished eldest son, is instantly captivated by Ara the moment he lays eyes on her. What begins as an irresistible attraction quickly deepens into profound love—one that defies every social boundary separating them. In sharp contrast, his sharp-tongued sister Crissy regards the beautiful maid with open hostility and bitter jealousy, positioning herself as Ara’s ruthless rival and determined adversary. Now caught in the storm of forbidden passion, Ara must confront the heart-wrenching trials ahead as she willingly falls in love with a man who inhabits a world far beyond her own humble station. Will she find the strength to endure the judgment, obstacles, and heartbreak that come with such an impossible romance? And will Nathan have the courage to fight for his feelings for Ara against his sister’s fierce opposition, or will family loyalty ultimately force him to turn away?

I was on a business trip out of town when I got a text from my neighbor. [Can you and your husband keep it down? Also, one of your undies fell onto my balcony.] Shocked, I opened the photo she had sent. The underwear wasn't even my style, but it matched the one I'd seen in my husband's online shopping cart. He'd told me it was a gift for me, but I remember noticing the size—it was one size larger than mine. When confronted with the neighbor's message, my husband swore that the house must've been broken into and claimed the intruder left the item behind. But something about his story didn't sit right, so I decided to dig further. That was when I stumbled upon his social media. His latest post was just three words. [I bought this.] It was paired with a photo of a lingerie gift set. Beneath it, there was a comment. [I'm wearing it.] Attached was a picture of a woman's legs—and the unmistakable background of my living room. The evidence was undeniable. I packed up the underwear and brought it straight to the police. "My husband says our house was broken into. This was left behind by the intruder, and it might have DNA on it."

“I've wanted this all my life,” he said. “I want you.” Carter Between running a company and a recent attempt on his life, billionaire Carter Williamson doesn't need any more stress. So when a trio of orphan children breaks into the Colorado ranch he's hiding out in, his first instinct is to just let the police handle it. That was before their spunky social worker Mia showed up. Mia Mia Amesworth has worked hard to make sure that the Smith kids aren't separated from each other, but she can only do so much. With her own body unable to produce children, the kids are the closest thing to a family she's got. When the handsome ranch owner offers to let the three troublemakers pay for the damages with hard work over the summer, she happily accepts. When he suggests they go on a date, she can't say yes fast enough. Even though Carter's secret assailant keeps threatening him, he feels like he might be falling for the small town girl. And though Mia knows that a family might not be in the cards for her future, she longs to create a life with Carter. And then, a miracle happens...

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

Someone had sprinkled some corrosive acid powder all over my wedding dress, the one worth over a hundred million. The moment I put it on, my flesh began to burn and dissolve. Blood and yellowish fluid pooled around me as a result. When I tried to call for an ambulance, someone’s mother held me down. She smiled cruelly and said, “You dare steal my daughter’s wedding dress? Go to hell!” However, my husband had ordered the dress from a top designer. It was one of a kind! I struggled with all my strength and shouted at her, “Do you know who I am? How dare you touch me?!” Her daughter, Yelena Stone, then grabbed a knife and stabbed me hard in my pregnant belly. She sneered and said, “You stole my man, but you have the audacity to yell at me? Fine. I’ll just spend a little more to end your worthless life.” My worthless life? I laughed. My hands were stained with blood as I called my brother, Hunter Sinclair, an elite in Jinvell’s social circles. “Hunter! Someone’s trying to kill me! And tell Jacob to get here now!”

A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary makes it to the trending topics. Everyone squeals over how romantic and touching it is. His secretary even posts on social media, "I've waited so long for you to appear, and I'm glad I didn't give up. I'll leave my life in your hands, Mr. Emerson." One of the comments goes, "God, this is so sweet. A CEO and his secretary—I ship them!" I don't weep or cause a fuss. Instead, I close the webpage and ask my boyfriend for an explanation. That's when I hear him talking to his friends. "I didn't have a choice. She would've been forced to marry someone she doesn't love if I didn't help her." "What about Vicky? She's your actual girlfriend. Aren't you afraid of her getting mad?" "So what if she is? She's been with me for seven years—she can't live without me." Later, I have my wedding on the same day as his. Our cars drive past each other, and I exchange bouquets with his secretary. When he sees me, he breaks down.

In the high-stakes world of Thorne Global, Julian Thorne is a man who calculates every move, valuing cold efficiency over the unpredictability of human emotion. But one night at a high-society masquerade ball, his world is upended by a magnetic encounter with a woman in a silver mask. Elena Vance, posing as her twin sister Layla to settle a family debt, never intended for their anonymous connection to become anything more than a single, electric memory. The illusion shatters two months later when Elena discovers she is pregnant. Before she can find a way to tell the mystery man from the ball, Julian finds her. He believes she is Layla—the social climber he once despised—and is stunned by the "new," grounded woman standing before him. When the truth of the pregnancy comes to light, Julian demands a contractual cohabitation to protect his legacy, unaware that the woman he is falling for is living under a stolen identity. As the pregnancy progresses, the ice around Julian’s heart begins to melt, but the web of lies Elena has spun grows increasingly fragile. Between a blackmailing debt collector, a vengeful twin sister, and corporate rivals looking for any sign of weakness, the stakes have never been higher. When Elena finally confesses her true identity, the fallout is catastrophic, forcing them both to decide if their connection was built on a lie or something far more enduring.

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.