Bodice Ripper Readers Anonymous Novels & Stories

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

The day my wife slept with her terminally ill “male best friend” to take his virginity, I left a divorce agreement behind and walked out. Before I left, I commented under their hand-holding photo on Instagram. [Let's get divorced. I wish you and Theo a long and happy life together.] One minute later, she called me. "Logan, how did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you? Can you really let him die without someone to carry on his line?" I sneered and replied that she wasn't my wife anymore, so that wasn't really my problem. She panicked.

After being reborn, I cut off every line of contact with Maxwell Sutton. He chooses Elmshore University, so I change my application to Stonewick University instead. My goal is to stay far away from him and never cross paths again. When he comes back to the country for holidays and tries to meet up, I fly abroad. I block him on social media and stop replying to his emails. The moment he joins the same company as me, I hand in my resignation. I don't even want to see him from a distance. In my previous life, I was obsessed with him for 20 years, and he betrayed me for 20 years. I was diagnosed with a terminal illness in my 30s. While I took my last breath, Maxwell was busy planning a wedding with his first love. The daughter we raised adjusted his suit like the perfect child, while I died alone in a hospital room. And now, I refuse to live that ridiculous life again.

My father was certain that the mother and daughter my husband brought back from Southern River were the daughter and granddaughter of an impeached official. As such, he locked them up. Afton Springfield, my husband, begged for my father’s mercy for seven days and nights outside the palace. This caused my father to fly into a rage. He wanted to get us divorced and execute Afton. To appease my father, I had begged him to release the mother and daughter as well in the previous timeline, even though I was heavily pregnant. Feeling resigned, my father sent the mother—Melinda—and daughter to the army as soldier servants. He also spared Afton and ordered him to treat me well so that he would not let me down. For ten years, we loved each other and got along cordially. However, ten years later, he poisoned my father and brother. Then, he put a child on the throne so that he could become the regent. Once he was done, he forced me to apologize before Melinda’s tombstone. He also had hooligans humiliate me. As for my son, he threw him into a den of snakes, and my son died in agony. In my despair, I saw his resentful gaze. “You killed Melinda and her daughter. You have no right to continue living! If Melinda didn’t die, she would be my wife, and you would live at the bottom of society. You could never compare to Melinda.” When I opened my eyes again, I found myself pleading for my father’s mercy with Afton. This time, I decided to fulfill Afton’s wish.

On our son's fifth birthday, the three of us went to watch a meteor shower. In the middle of it, my husband answered a phone call and left in a hurry. Late that night, our son had an asthma attack. The only medicine he needed was in my husband's car. I clutched my son and ran through the empty wilderness, stumbling in the dark as I called my husband over and over again. All I got back was an icy message: [Something urgent. Do not disturb.] The next day, he finally called. However, the voice on the other end was not his. "Last night, my dog suddenly fell ill and died. Elias was worried I wouldn't take it well, so he stayed with me all night. He has just fallen asleep. If you have anything to say, you can tell me." I stroked my son's pale, bluish face. "Tell him," I said, "we're getting a divorce."

This is my 18th time coming to City Hall, yet Tessa's still nowhere to be seen. Right as I'm about to call and ask her how much longer she'll be, her childhood friend's post popped up on my screen. "Celebrating 1000 days of marriage with my wife. May we always be this happy." The photo highlights a marriage certificate, and Tessa Cross' name is right there under "wife". As for the license date, it shows February 14th, three years ago. So this is why she hasn't shown up the last eighteen times. It turns out that she's already somebody else's wife.

"Luna Seraphina, are you certain you wish to proceed with the breaking of the mate bond? Once we begin the ritual, the bond between you and Alpha Kaden will be gone forever. Your power, your standing, and everything you hold within the pack will no longer exist." The aged priest of the pack held Seraphina’s hand, her weathered eyes reflecting worry. Seraphina nodded, her voice unwavering with determination. "I’m sure." The priest persuaded Seraphina, "The ritual will bring you unimaginable pain, and Alpha Kaden will suffer greatly too. Please, could you reconsider it?" Seraphina broke the skin of her finger with a silver pen and pressed her blood print on the ancient werewolf script to seal the deal. "Let’s begin." "Very well. After the ritual, you will forsake the name, Seraphina Mor, and in return, the Moon Goddess will grant you a new life. You will go by Kathryn Flint, is that correct?" "Yes." Kathryn would leave and begin a new chapter in a forest. It was a path she had set out for herself. She was going to leave and break free from the pack that had been nothing but lies. After the ritual, the priest handed her a new human ID and passport. "Can I leave the territory now?" "Yes, you may. The confirmation slip holds the Moon Goddess’s blessing, which has the power to mask your scent from the Alpha seeking to track you, but it can only last for a week." Seraphina prepared her departure with haste. She would bring nothing else with her, neither her Luna staff nor her registered name on the pack’s records. Seraphina was leaving with her new passport in a week anyway. The Luna title could remain with the pack for good, for she no longer needed it.

At my son's tenth birthday, I unexpectedly gained the power to read minds. Standing before the candles, he made his wish. "I hope I score a hundred on my finals." Before I could commend his maturity, a second wish slammed into my ears. "I don't like Dad. I want Mr. Shaw to be my dad.'' My hands froze halfway through a clap.

The day my girlfriend’s condition worsened and she needed urgent surgery, I publicly called her a burden in front of everyone. Despite her pleas, I abandoned her cruelly. Seven years later, she became a formidable international tycoon and returned home with great fanfare. To exact her revenge on me, the heartless man, she poisoned my mother into silence and sent my father to prison. Eager to see me beg for mercy, she mobilized every connection to track me down. At this point, her parents could no longer bear to watch. With tears streaming down their faces, they revealed the entire truth. “He died seven years ago to donate his organs to you!”

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.