Bias Novels & Stories

No one knows I'm the Alpha's mate. Or, to be precise—he's made damn sure no one ever will. A gutter girl from the Grey Zone. A wolf that never stirred. A nobody. How could someone like me ever be Luna of the Thornwood Pack? For three years, Casbian stashed me in the cracks and shadows. I took the edge off his ruts with my body. I fed him my blood to quiet the beast. I told myself—be good enough, useful enough, obedient enough—and one day he'd stand me before the pack and say the words. But three days from now, he's going to stand before the pack and call Lydia Ashford his Luna. I've stopped wanting a crown. I'm leaving. I'm going somewhere no Alpha will ever find me.

The year I graduated from high school, my dad brought home a woman and a child with a rose on my mom's birthday. When the child offered my mom the rose, my mom gladly accepted it, only to end her life after spending her 39th birthday. … When I got married, I told my husband, Alistair Yates, that a rose was enough to end our marriage if he wanted a divorce. Then, he tried to reassure me that our house would not have anything related to roses. … Five years later, during one of the Yates Group's tender, one of our partners had a rose pinned to her chest. When he saw this, Alistair immediately kicked her out of the company and blacklisted her. That day, I realized that marriage could actually be blissful. Yet, six months after that, I completed my new drug research. The entire corridor was full of roses when I came out of the lab. The person who had been kicked out of the company? She was standing beside Alistair with a bright smile. I looked at him coldly, but he casually said, "Maria prepared all these for you. She's your sister and she wants to make amends with you." It took me two seconds to stare at Alistair before I turned to leave. What sister? I never had one. And from today, I no longer need a husband.

I had always been a little dizzy by nature. My head was often muddled. Three years ago, in that same haze, I picked up a drunk woman and brought her home. She woke up and stared at me for a while before suddenly saying, “Let’s get married.” I did not think much about it. I just nodded and thus became the rich husband of a powerful family. They gave me a credit card that I could use however I liked, and I could live in a luxury house without any limits. We had a son, but alas, he was kidnapped. It took me two years, but I managed to find him again. I was about to tell my wife when she handed me a divorce agreement. “I’m bankrupt. This is my last sum of money. Take it and leave.” At that moment, a few chat messages suddenly appeared in front of me. [Wow! The female lead’s crush, the male lead, has returned to the country!] [She is probably pretending to be bankrupt. She wants to get rid of the male supporting character to go back to the male lead!] [She got drunk back then because the male lead left. The male supporting character was just a stand-in!] What? So I was a replacement? I nodded slowly. “Oh. Then let’s get a divorce.” The light in her eyes went out at once. I looked at her and felt that I had forgotten to say something. Whatever. I would say it when I remembered.

On the day of my birthday, my adopted sister, Juliette Griffin, and I get into a car accident. The flames are already licking me hungrily, and yet my fiance, Leon Sinclair, points at the front passenger seat. "Save Juliette first! She has a heart disease!" When I wake up, I'm completely disfigured. At most, I only have one month left to live. Later on, my family decides that Juliette will marry Leon on my behalf for the sake of our families' interests. Leon caresses my bandaged face with heartbreak in his eyes. He then vows to me, "Once you get better, the position of Mrs. Sinclair is still yours." I just smile and say okay. I even give all of my shares, properties, and my unpublished artwork to Juliette as her pre-wedding gifts. Just like that, Juliette becomes a famous artist by publishing my artwork. When the reporters interview Mom, she's so happy that she bursts into tears. "I'm so glad that Juliette isn't the one who got badly hurt in the accident! Otherwise, we'd have lost a genius!" Leon also announces in a high-profile manner that Juliette will be his one and only wife. But what they don't know is that the actual genius is gazing at them coldly from a corner. The things that I've voluntarily given away from the start are actually offerings meant for my vengeance.

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

I struggle with all my might, but Dad restrains me, and Mom breaks my limbs. Then, my sister seals me into the concrete. "Concrete is only brought to life with an actual person sealed inside. It looks so much more defined! It's not like you'll die after being sealed in there for a few days. How can you be so insensible?" The pain of having my limbs broken and my oxygen being cut off leads to me dying within that block of concrete. My body rots and festers inside, but my soul sticks around to watch how my parents dote on their adoptive child. They seem to be happy without me. Finally, I lose all hope in them. But when the liquid from my body seeps out of the concrete, they all lose their minds.

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for being too fat, stretching the dress until it tore." Still crouching on the floor, I watched the two of them behave intimately. My gaze turned cold. The dress was ruined, and so was my dream. It was time to wake up.