Angel Of Universe 10 Novels & Stories

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

David finds himself in another world but not before meeting the creator of the new world and the previous world. Unlike the home he, and many others, finds familiar, the new world is both hostile and does not follow the same rules. Creatures that do not and should not exist roam this new world freely. Fortunately, David is skilled and is promised companionship. Whatever that means, David will have to figure it out as he survives the land. DISCORD SERVER: https://discord.gg/Mk3Kq7h3

What would happen if the most powerful battlestar create escapades the cyclone extermination and instead ended up in a new universe?

While taking a trip to Ohio with her family 16-year-old Sakura tattoo receives a magic necklace containing the powers of a being known as the swordkeeper she must now use these powers to find magic weapons and save an alternate universe

Being known as a demoness, the angel of death's best friend, and many other cursed titles for the heiress of a gangster group seems like commonplace. But no one knows that Maia has one small, ridiculous ambition. She wants to have a simple life with her beloved husband and children if God gives her a second life. Maia assumes God is bored with granting her final wish before dying in a clan war. She wakes up in the body of another woman, a popular celebrity who died regretfully after getting married. Can Maia, the cursed woman, succeed in playing her role as a good wife and mother in place of the celebrity?

I begged my boss, Arthur Hutton, ninety-eight times for us to get officially married. Each time, he canceled our plans because his childhood sweetheart deliberately lured him away. On the ninety-ninth attempt, I waited for him at the city hall. Arthur simply patted my head and then put up a sign on the door that read, [Serena Xander and Dogs Not Allowed.] He said indifferently, “Millie’s throwing a fit, and I can’t calm her down. I need to marry her first. “I’ll divorce her, so just wait for me. Next Wednesday is a good day. I’ll marry you then.” But he did not know that I only had ninety-nine chances to give. I would be resigning the following week.

Five years after our son was born, I finally faced the truth: my wife didn't love me—or our boy. Determined to end this miserable marriage, I made plans to leave and take our son with me. But fate had other ideas. A car accident cost me a kidney and took our son's eye. At my lowest point, my usually distant wife fell to her knees right in the hospital corridor, begging for forgiveness. She swore she would spend the rest of her life taking care of us. We decided to give her one last chance—a 100-day trial. If she made it, we'd stay together. But on the ninety-ninth day, my son and I overheard her talking to the attending physician. "Emma," the doctor said, "did you really arrange that accident to secure organs for Daniel Carter's son? You did that to take a kidney from your husband and an eye from your son—was it worth it?" Emma Evans's voice was eerily calm. "It was worth it. As long as Daniel is happy, I'd do anything." "And what if your husband and son find out?" She fell silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the wedding ring on her hand. "Then they'll never know. They just want a family; I'll do everything I can to make up for it." So the "changed woman" we thought we knew was just an act—a carefully built lie. The happiness my son and I had begun to believe in was nothing more than a story she'd crafted to protect the person she really loved. Every kindness, every effort—it had all been quietly weighed and paid for in advance.

After my husband's first love, Sydney Edwards, used me as a walking blood bank, I died in the run-down rental apartment my billionaire husband, Casper Hawthorne, had tossed me into like it was a blessing for me. Today was the third day since I had died. My six-year-old son, Adam, finally realized something was wrong. He had cut his finger while playing with his toys, yet I did not comfort him. He tore open a packet of crackers and raised one to my mouth to feed me, but I did not stop him. He lay in my arms, clutching my clothes and whispering for me. Still, I did not answer. Lost and panicking, he found my phone and called his father, Casper. "Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?" The man sent back a photo of himself having New Year's Eve dinner with Sydney and said in a cold voice, "She's just sleeping, she's not dead. Today is New Year's Eve. I'm busy. Tell that clueless mom of yours that when she's ready to admit she was wrong, she can come and look for me." After the call ended, Adam stood there frozen for a long time. He picked up the last biscuit in the rental apartment from the trash can, broke it in half, and held one piece to my mouth. "Mom, let's eat too."

My husband did not love me, and he certainly did not love our child. On the day our son was born, he did not even glance at him. He merely tossed him into my arms. Then, his first love came back from overseas. That night, the ever-cold Henry had gotten drunk for the first time. He even smiled as he held our child in his arms. Delighted, our son wrapped his little arms around my husband's neck and asked me in a soft voice, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Uncle?” I crouched down, pulling him into my embrace. My eyes reddened as I explained, “Uncle's favorite person came back, so we shouldn’t bother him anymore. We’re going to find a new home.”