Classroom Of The Elite Year 2 Light Novel Novels & Stories

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

Stella is happy in every aspect of her life, there is nothing she could ever ask for. Until on the night of the full moon, the light envelopes her and sweep her away back to her recurring dream. There she found a fragment of herself, a memory that is long gone. "You are my Luan, and in this dream no gods, no fate, or deity can forbid us to meet" - King Sun "Our love is God, when we say let the mountain move, it will move. Empty the sea, it will be empty. If I need to kill everyone, even the one who love me and precious to you I will. You are mine and only mine" - The Justice "We are destined, Fate declares it. Yet, fate is not written in stone. It can be burn, torn, tampered, and destroyed. So who am I? Telling you who to love. I love you and that's all I know" - The King of the Celestials

I was always different from my brothers; always more sensitive and perceptive. I never knew if this was a gift from the Goddess or not, but my brother, Alpha Kai, used my sixth sense to his advantage and that's what helped raise our pack to infamy. But in the end, it would be that sixth sense which led to my demise - dead before I could even face my mate and his betrayal. My soft heart led to my death, and my trusting nature helped the enemy get ahead with their plans. So here I am, sifting through my memories in the Other and watching my family as they continue to live their lives without me. All the while wishing I could be there with them. **** This is a companion novel to the Bratva Wolves Novels and is not a standalone. Do not read this book if you have not read The Bratva Wolves Collection first.

To the outside world, Xavier Sullivan and I are a loving couple. In truth, my father sold me to him to repay the debt he owes the Sullivan family. When the five-year contract expires, Xavier's parents want me to extend it. They threaten me and tell me I'm heading for certain death if I refuse. I have no choice but to fake my death and leave everything behind, taking only the child in my belly with me.

Eight years ago, I broke the heart of the boy I loved. Now, after eight years overseas, Liam Hayes was finally coming home with his new girlfriend to meet his family. That same day, the hospital gave me its final answer. The cancer had won. There was nothing left to treat. Nothing left to try. They sent me home with only time. When Liam saw my mother helping me into a wheelchair, a cold smile touched his mouth. “Eight years,” he said. “And this is what became of you? You can’t even walk anymore?” Disgust laced every word. I only tugged the sleeve of my down coat lower, hiding the cluster of needle marks across the back of my hand. “It’s nothing,” I said quietly. “I fell and broke a bone. That’s all.” Liam gave a short, bitter laugh. “In that case, I’m getting married soon. Why don’t you come be my fiancée’s bridesmaid?” I smiled as if it did not hurt at all. “No, thank you. I’m about to leave for somewhere very far away.” Then I patted the back of Mom’s hand, silently asking her to take me home.

Emily’s world wasn’t just broken. It was strategically dismantled. Three years of love. One devastating betrayal. A single moment that would leave a scar forever. The day Emily caught her boyfriend Jaden and her best friend Mika tangled in bed, something inside her died. 2 years later, she has worked to be everything Jaden said she could never be— a star actress, loved by many. As Emily climbs the treacherous ladder of the entertainment industry, her betrayers return with a sinister plan. Mika, consumed by jealousy, doesn’t just want to compete – she wants to annihilate. Even if it meant becoming an actress herself. And Jaden? He’s the perfect weapon in her arsenal. But in the entertainment industry, Power surpasses power. And there he was, Noah. Noah. The king of the entertainment industry. Feared by many and had the lives of many wrapped around his fingers. He met Emily 2 years ago for the first time, snot mixing with tears, her broken glasses sliding down her face- she kept screaming at him “You can’t die! Not today!”. She saved him, and he owes his life to her. But now, she doesn’t remember him. Also she has changed. She almost looked nothing like the ugly woman he saw that night— Mascara streaking down her blotchy cheeks, glasses bent and crooked, hair disheveled, looking utterly destroyed, a walking catastrophe of raw, ugly pain, far from what he was seeing now— who is this woman? This isn’t a love story. This is a war. And Emily? She’s the prey. Would Noah be her Prince Charming that saves her?

I jump off the seventh floor on my wedding day. Why? Because everyone has abandoned me to pick up a fake heiress from the airport, my fiancé included. I expect to see them riddled with heartbreak and regret after my death. However, my father merely shakes his head stoically and looks at my body while saying I was too willful. My mother bites her lip and sighs in relief. My fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, shields the fake heiress. He's afraid she'll see the horrible state of my body. The fake heiress is scared to tears at this, and everyone crowds around her to console her. No one cares whether I'm still breathing while lying in a pool of blood. I'm stunned when I see this, but I soon laugh self-deprecatingly. When I open my eyes again, I've been brought back seven years in the past. It's the day I've just stepped foot at home.

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

On New Year's Eve, I returned home. At the welcome party, my boyfriend, Grayson Caldwell, suddenly appeared, holding a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring, dropping to one knee. "Although this proposal comes a full three years late, our love will never be late," he said. "Alexa, marry me!" Friends cheered from the sidelines, all expecting me to nod through tears and say yes. But they had forgotten that three years ago, on New Year's Eve, he had promised to propose. That night, I dressed to the nines and waited until dawn—but he never showed up. Instead, there was only a cold phone call. "Tanya is sick. I'm busy taking care of her. You'll have to wait a little longer for the proposal." And so, on New Year's Day, I left the country alone, bound by a family-arranged marriage. I had already married someone else three years ago.

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."