Anonymous Millionaire Reviews Novels & Stories

Seven years into my marriage, my wife’s assistant Jonah Johnson showed off a multi-million dollar racecar on his social media. The caption was, “I love my job, but I love my boss even more!” As soon as I liked his post, I was blocked from it. My wife immediately called to yell at me. “Jonah just signed a huge contract, so I gave him a little reward. Did you have to scold him on social media over something like that? Don’t push your limits just because I’m kind to you!” I heard Jonah blaming himself and my wife Nia comforting him on the other side of the phone. Before I could say anything else, she hung up on me and blocked my number. The next instant, Jonah posted a screenshot of a million-dollar transfer. I knew that was Nia’s way of consoling and compensating him. This time, however, I did not care anymore.

At our engagement party, my fiancée said, "Even if I marry you, my heart will always belong to my first love." The room went dead silent. Everyone waited for me to snap and storm out in humiliation. Instead, I clapped first. Smiling, I said, "If marrying me makes you that miserable, I won't stop you. Just don't forget to pay back the wedding money I gave you." My fiancée panicked on the spot.

After my older sister, Cecilia, and I hit adulthood, our parents dropped a bomb: one of us had to run the family business, the other had to marry into the Spencer family in Norwick City. Cecilia, blinded by greed, called dibs on the company without blinking. Problem was, she was all talk. Spent her days jet-setting and partying while the business tanked. Within a year, she'd burned it all to the ground. Me? I got the Spencer name and popped out two boys, locking in my spot as the rich wife. Cecilia couldn't handle it. Jealousy made her snap—she straight-up stabbed me at a family party. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we had to choose. Cecilia didn't even pause. "I'll marry into the Spencer family. The business can go to Demi." I laughed. My poor, clueless sister—she had no idea she was walking straight into hell.

After saving my girlfriend, Tiffany Swain, I suffer from a concussion, leading to me getting rushed to the hospital. That's when I decide to play a prank on her. "Who are you?" When I see Tiffany's expression freeze on her face, I almost burst out laughing. But Tiffany suddenly points at her best friend, Janet Emery. "I'm your fiancee's friend. That's your fiancee, Janet Emery." This time, my expression freezes on my face. Janet approaches me at that moment. "That's right. I'm your fiancee." I squeeze out a smile at her. "Let's go home, then."

Even on my hundredth proposal, Isabelle Cole still turns me down. We've been together for seven years. For the previous 99 proposals, she said her childhood friend isn't married yet, and she can't bring herself to break the promise they've made. Staring at the ring in my hand, I finally can't hold it in anymore. "If Ronald never gets married, are you going to keep him company forever? What am I to you?" Isabelle's expression turns gloomy in an instant. She snatches the ring and throws it into the river. "Ron and I made a promise when we were kids that we'd get married at the same time. How can I just abandon him? "And besides, is that piece of paper really all that important, Lucas? We've been together for seven years. What difference would it even make?"

The day I get engaged, my brother brings home a woman who's my age. He says she's his actual sister and accuses me of stealing her life for the past 20 years. Even my fiancé says she's his rightful wife. I'm kicked out of home. Meanwhile, my brother and fiancé take the true heiress traveling. They even give her the villa they had prepared for me. Half a month later, they suddenly remember it's my birthday. To their dismay, they find that they can't see me anymore—I've joined a secret ten-year project organized by the nation. They're supposed to be happy, but they now regret everything.

When it's time for us to say our vows during the wedding ceremony, Jessica Fletcher, my wife, leaves the stage just so she can confess her love to her first love, Benedict Olson. "Once upon a time, we had vowed to stay together for the rest of our lives, Benedict. It's unfortunate that we've missed out on the chance to do so in this lifetime. Would you be willing to stay with me in our next life, then?" Touched, Benedict pulls Jessica into his arms. Then, he turns to tell me, "Oliver, I've already given Jess to you in this lifetime, so you must take good care of her for me." Everyone gasps in shock, thinking that they'll soon witness two men fighting over the same woman. But I merely smile at the sight of Benedict and Jessica embracing each other tightly. Then, I take off my ring before passing it to Benedict. "Why wait till your next life to be together? Since you've already made a vow to stay together for eternity, I might as well grant your wish."

My sister pulled a knife during a robbery attempt, and we got into a brutal fight. My mom, an auxiliary police officer, arrived at the scene but totally ignored my injury. As I lay in a pool of blood, begging for help, she just cradled my sister and yelled at me, "You're so desperate for attention that you'd hurt your sister? How did I raise a heartless monster like you?" She branded me as the aggressor, ignored my pleas, and rushed my sister, who had mere scratches, to the hospital. I was left alone to die miserably in that deserted alley. When the news of my death arrived, my mother dismissed it as another one of my lies, pointing at my body and demanding I get up to apologize to my sister.

After working five years as Ethan Moore's ghost architect, he once again handed off the position of the project lead to someone else. As usual, he dangled the carrot in my face. “Think about the bigger picture, Arya. Just wait a little longer. Until the firm’s next round of funding, and we get listed on the stock market, I promise I’ll make you the lead architect of the next project…” When I was twenty-one, I was a fool who willingly staked everything in an uncertain future with him. Now, I am twenty-eight. Years of waiting and endless revisions of blueprints had whittled away all the love and courage I once had. I packed up my portfolio and gave up on my lifelong dream of becoming an architect in Manhattan. I gave up on him as well. I’m not waiting anymore, Ethan.

Three years after my death, my mother finally remembered my existence. As my older brother was having kidney failure, she wanted me to give him my kidney. To force me to make an appearance, she pushed my severely depressed wife into committing suicide and left my daughter roaming the streets to be killed in a hit-and-run. However, she still did not give up. She started making up things about me on the internet. In the end, my friend told her, “Mrs. Harding, Aiden died in the earthquake three years ago. A steel girder pierced him right through the heart after he saved you, and he died on the spot due to blood loss.”