Blaming Myself Novels & Stories

Rima: Jacob Snow is a puzzle. I had initially mistaken him for a cold, uncaring, and arrogant CEO, but as we work together, I realize he's the exact opposite. He's warm, considerate, and humble, a far cry from the man I had painted in my mind. But acknowledging this doesn't mean I'm ready to let my guard down. My past is a dark, haunting shadow, and I refuse to let anyone get too close, afraid of the potential pain that could follow. It's been a while since I've felt this way about someone, and the familiarity of these feelings scares me. The last time it ended being the worst mistake of my life. I don't want to give in to these feelings, but I can't deny that Jacob is becoming more than just a boss to me. Jacob: Rima is enigmatic. She’s resilient, determined, and initially, she appears distant. But as we collaborate, I find myself drawn to her strength and determination. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and the spark between us is undeniable. She’s built a fortress around herself, a wall that's impossible to penetrate, but I’m determined to break it down. I sense she’s hiding something, and I can’t shake off the protective instinct that emerges whenever I see her. As we confront the danger together, I find myself struggling to resist the growing feelings I have for her. As danger looms, Rima and Jacob find themselves struggling to resist the growing attraction between them. Their pasts threaten to tear them apart, but they can’t deny the feelings that are blossoming between them. Will they be able to overcome their fears and trust each other? Or will their pasts continue to haunt them and prevent them from finding love?

It was never part of my plan to get attached. I was just a freelance model, newly signed under a rising modeling agency in town. Everything was supposed to be simple; work, exposure, growth. Then came Dr. Aria Williams — dermatologist, surgeon, and the woman who was supposed to fix me. Chaos started the moment I met her. The way she talked, the way she looked at me felt like she was studying every inch of who I was. Every word I said, every silence I made, she read me like I was her favorite patient. It made me uncomfortably hot, and yet... I kept coming back. I told myself it was part of the therapy, the strange pull I felt toward her was part of it. But the way she looked at me; cold, curious, almost hungry, said otherwise. I hated her for it. I felt it every time her voice softened, every time her fingers lingered on my skin longer than they should. She called it treatment. I called it control. What started as therapy turned into something dark and deeper. I wanted to be beautiful, to be ready for the public, but what we craved became something private, something only between us. And the more sessions I had with her, the stronger the connection grew. Until one day, her eyes focused on someone else. And every time their eyes met, it burned through me. When she saw it, she offered something that challenged me. To be her slave and she'll be mine— alone. Soon, I found myself following her every order, fulfilling her desires without question. Along the way, I realized her obsession had become mine too. And before I could stop, the hate I once felt for her turned into something else.

Ten years after my wealthy family took me back, I died in the rental house my billionaire parents had dumped me in. My son was three. Just to mess with me, the kidnapper gave me three chances to call for help. If even one person was willing to come see me, he'd spare my child. The first call was to my father, the man who'd spent fifteen years searching for me. He was busy directing the staff as they set up my adoptive sister's birthday party. When he picked up, he barked, "Estelle Emerson, seriously? Can you go one week without causing a scene? It's your sister's birthday. I'm busy. Don't kill the vibe." The second call was to my mother, the woman who brought me home and changed my name from Dixie to Estelle. But Vera snatched the phone and laughed so hard she could barely get the words out. "Estelle, seriously? If you're gonna make something up, at least make it believable. You look so broke you probably don't even have fifty bucks. What kidnapper would pick you?" The third time, I called Luca's father, my legal husband. He said he was in a meeting and didn't have time to play games with me. He also said that if I behaved myself, he'd agree to take me home for dinner next week. After the final call ended, I looked at the grinning kidnapper in despair and sent the last two messages of my life. A photo of myself covered in blood. And a short message, every word sincere. [I'm really going to die. In my next life, don't bring me home.]

Terror, torment and obedience, that's been my life up until this point. Trapped in the house of a monstrous Alpha and fated to obey his every command. I learnt at a young age, not to talk back, not question or defy, and my wolf learnt quickly too. In the dark hours of the night I lose myself in the wondrous tales of a life of freedom, a life of my own, but its fantasy, fiction, it will never be real. But then he comes. The Alpha from Silver lake, is unlike any Alpha I've ever met, there's something strange about him, he almost seems kind, and suddenly I have a choice to make, one that could be the start of a new beginning or the death of me, I haven't quite figured that part out yet.

Eight years of loyalty—wiped out by three days of her batting her lashes. At the bonfire, I swore the Alpha would finally mark me. Instead, I watched him fasten a sparkly little pendant around her neck. When the fire broke out, he ditched me—flames snapping at my heels. Said I could "handle myself," then played hero carrying her out. She showed up at my herb shop all smug, called me a "mutt no one wants." Then he showed up—Alpha on his knees outside my door, begging for another shot. I nodded toward my shelves. "These heal every wolf in Stormborne... except the Alpha who couldn't see what was right in front of him."

Taking his place on the throne, the King crowned his golden girl his queen. I, on the other hand, was granted two choices—retire from court with a hefty fortune or be his kept mistress in the dark. Choosing neither, I hung myself on the clothesline right outside the laundress quarters. I had been sent back twenty years in time, tasked by the System to conquer four targets. I’d just blown the last target and my final chance to complete the quest. The System notified me that following the death of my flesh, my consciousness would return to the modern world, back to the arms of my family. Just as I closed my eyes, the desperate cries of my name caught my attention.

I logged into my girlfriend's account to sell her DSLR camera on a secondhand marketplace. The transaction went through fine. The next morning, the messages started showing up, and they were nothing I was ever meant to see. "Great shots this time. What's the rate for the outfit in the middle?" That’s when it hit me–the camera's memory card had not been wiped. However, the photos inside… were nothing I had ever seen before. Revealing shots. Intimate poses. Not meant for me. I forced myself to stay calm and tried to explain the situation to the buyer. His reply stopped me cold. "Drop the act. It’s not like this is the first time I've bought from you."

I'm a bad-luck magnet in showbiz. Every guy who gets paired with me for publicity ends up with his image wrecked and career destroyed. And somehow, I still just want to fall in love. I finally landed a romance game endorsement, but I had no idea I'd accidentally wandered into a horror game. During the beta test, I threw myself straight into the BOSS's arms—a general. "My love, I missed you so much!" He froze in shock, his mangled hand moving toward the sword at his waist. I shyly stopped him. "Wow, slow down. We literally just met, and you're already trying to take your pants off?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Emilia wondered, a cacophony of feelings turning inside her – bewilderment, rage, and something else she was not yet prepared to acknowledge. "Honestly? I wasn't sure how,” Alexander admitted. “And then everything with NexGen started unfolding, and I… I tried to convince myself it was better if we left things professional. Emilia made a small, cynical noise that was almost a laugh. "Professional? After we… after we…. you… promoted me to your personal assistant..." "Right after the most passionate night of my life?” Alexander completed. ... After a single night of heated passion, environmental engineer Emilia Thatcher was promoted to be the personal assistant of Trident Holdings' CEO, AlexandeKane. But she had no idea she's stepping into a carefully orchestrated trap.

As long as I can remember, I've been plagued by strange dreams. He comes to me when I sleep, calling out to me with such love. His face is so familiar yet strange to my eyes. Every dream was just that, a dream, until a family heirloom was handed down to me. With the book now open, the man I yearned to see in my sleep... is now real. Thrown back into the 1800's I find myself having to solve the mystery behind the screams that haunted me, and the loving touch from my dreams. How can I save the love that calls to me when my mind is torn between right and wrong? Or will the past make its way to my present world before I can stop it?