Banter Knife Novels & Stories

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.

“I know you want me in jail, but I want you in my bed.” Every man and woman Ángel meets disappears. Their severed finger arrives first, like a pretty little Christmas gift, wrapped in silk and presented in box filled with silent promises from his stalker. Castle, Mafia heir. Executioner. Obsessed beyond reason. He doesn’t send threats. He sends bodies. Because no one touches what belongs to him. No one tastes what he’s claimed. And if they try? They bleed for it. At sixteen, Ángel Di Cristina lost everything. His father—an FBI agent—was closing in on the Mafia when a brutal massacre left his parents dead. But that night, one masked man went rogue. He killed his own allies, marked Ángel with a scar, and disappeared. For years, Ángel hunted him. And now, he’s closer than ever. But Castle doesn’t play by rules. He never had. What he wanted, he got. He bends Ángel, fills his whole life with the thought of him. He whispers filthy things against his throat while pressing a knife to his pulse. Run? Hide? Fight? Useless. Because Castillo doesn’t just want to own Ángel. He wants to ruin him. And the worst part? Ángel is ready to let him.

I waited for Alex for over five years. I endured the whispers of the clan, the mocking gazes, the judgment from his family who never thought I was good enough. Still, I waited—because I loved him. I believed in him. I trusted that he would choose me in the end. But the truth shattered me. One evening, I saw his laptop left open. And on the screen—countless photos of Elsa. His childhood sweetheart. His first love. It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. While I was drowning in problems, silently begging for his support, he was smiling by her side. All those years I gave him... all that waiting… I got nothing. So I left. Broken. Exhausted. Done pretending I was okay. I traveled far from our pack, seeking solitude under the excuse of pack relocation. But the truth was, I was trying to stitch myself back together—one breath, one step, one bitter tear at a time.But now… he’s gone mad looking for me. Why, Alex? Why do you search for me now, after crushing me so completely? When I stood by you, you looked past me. Now that I’ve finally let go… Why do you care?

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!”

I never wanted to gamble, yet I could not stop myself from going to the tables. I kept losing, over and over, until I was buried under ten million in debt. After investigating the cause, I finally learned the truth–my older brother had placed me under a puppet-like control. Every loss was recorded under my name, while all the winnings went straight into his pocket. My wife was furious. She slapped me, took our son, and divorced me. I tried to explain myself again and again, but she refused to listen. "Nathan, can you stop making excuses? Did someone hold a knife to your throat? You chose to gamble." After that, my brother only grew more ruthless, raising the stakes until I lost everything overnight. With nothing left, my creditors chopped off my limbs and threw me into the sea, leaving me to drown. Even after my death, they did not spare my wife and child. She was humiliated to death, and my son was sold overseas, his whereabouts unknown. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I first lost control and went to the gambling den.

The richest man in the country, Sebastian Vance, has a ring custom-made to my exact measurements, worth billions of dollars, for the woman who will be his bride. In the first life, my stepsister, Mia Lowe, slips on the ring and marries him. Sebastian claws her face, shouting, "She's not the one!" In the second life, my other stepsister, Lorraine Lowe, loses 30 pounds before marrying him. He shoves her down the stairs anyway and says, "She's not the one either." In the third life, my stepmother, Vivian Cole, grits her teeth and slices off a piece of her own flesh just to force the ring onto her finger. Sebastian sneers and pushes her under the bathwater, holding her down until her body goes limp. By the fourth life, out of options and terrified, they finally send me. I slide the ring on, and it fits perfectly. My entire family lets out a sigh of relief. But the second Sebastian lays his eyes on me, he draws a knife and stabs me to death. "Why is it still not her? Where is she?" In the last life, he has his assistant, Owen Hayes, deliver a ring to us. All four of us insist that it won't fit. Owen shoots us a strange look. "Mr. Vance said the rightful owner of this ring is among you."

Prologue. “You are not her,” his deep, dangerously dark voice whispered softly in her ear. “W…what do you mean? I am not who?” holding her breath unconsciously, she stuttered. “My bride. You are not the woman I was supposed to marry. Where is she?” His hoarse voice pierced through her chest like a knife and she felt her knees go weak, and then staggered backward, shivering. “Where is my bride?” === Sapphire Rodriguez's life got turned upside down when she suddenly had to take her twin sister’s spot on her wedding day. When she thought nothing could be worse than the maltreatment she was getting from her family, her twin sister got involved in an accident a day before her wedding which caused her to go into a state of comatose and she had to be the substitute bride until the real bride wakes up to take back her place. When the billionaire who married her was smarter than she had expected, Sapphire knew that her life was never going to be easy because this husband of hers will not believe that she didn't cause her sister’s accident in order to take her place at her wedding.

From the time I was little, something in me was always a little off—I never listened to the whole story, only half of it. My grandmother called me a good-for-nothing who was financially burdening the family. She bought a little boy to be my younger brother and told me to take good care of him. I understood the part about buying a child, so I immediately called the police and reported her for illegal human trafficking. My father pointed at my face and cursed me for being unfilial, accusing me of cutting off his family line. I obeyed him, crept into his room while he slept that night, and used a knife to "cut off his lineage." My father screamed in agony. In the chaos, he accidentally killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the female lead of a melodramatic abuse novel. After ten years of marriage to the cruel male lead, his childhood sweetheart had just returned from abroad and was undergoing kidney surgery. He dragged me to the hospital and cruelly ordered me to donate a kidney to his precious first love. I nodded obediently, went out and bought a pig, and on the spot dug out the pig's kidney and handed it to him.

I thought rejection was the worst pain a wolf could endure. I was wrong. The night Damon Calder left me marked but unclaimed, he shattered me. My body burned for him, my wolf howled for him—but he walked away without looking back. Now fate has decided to twist the knife deeper. My mother has married his father. Which makes the boy who broke me…the stepbrother who haunts me across the dinner table. The bond between us is half-finished, raw and vicious, clawing through my veins. Every brush of his hand, every stolen glance, every growled word drags me closer to the edge I swore I’d never cross again. But Damon isn’t just my ex-mate. He’s the outlaw Alpha’s son. Dangerous. Reckless. Marked by secrets that could burn us all alive. I should stay away. I should hate him for what he did. But when his storm-gray eyes lock on mine and his voice drops low enough for only me to hear— “Run to whoever you want, Lyric. Your wolf will crawl back to me.” I realize the truth. No matter how hard I fight it… I’m already his.

On my twentieth birthday, my father asked me to draw from a box of straws. It was to pick a husband between William Smith and Austin Smith to inherit North Town. The short straw represented Austin, while the long straw represented William. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the long straw. However, I was certain that I did not want to marry Austin. I drew straws for three years, but it was to no avail. I had no choice but to tamper with the straws to marry William as I wished. However, ten years into our marriage, he was no longer gentle and kind. He had turned into a really cold person. He neither returned home nor touched me. Even when I threatened him with a knife, he refused to talk to me. Despite feeling hurt, I was unwilling to let him go. That was until I watched him kick away the only medicine I had for my asthma while I was writhing on the floor. “I was the one who switched out the straws. There was no long straw, yet you forced me to marry you. Mandy died from a broken heart, so you should pay with your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a short straw. I calmly said, “Since it’s the short one, I choose Austin.”