Clockwork Orange Parents Guide Novels & Stories

"System, I request to leave the mission world." The summoned system quickly appeared. "Ms. Young, your request has been approved. You have half a month to say goodbye to your family in this world." With that said, the system disappeared again. Andrea Young paused for a long time at the mention of the word "Family" before slowly looking toward the family photo on the table beside her. In the photo, her husband and son were each lovingly kissing her cheeks. The happiness captured in that moment suddenly left her stunned. No one knew Andrea was on a mission. Ten years ago, the system brought her into this world to win the heart of Gabriel Fulton, the crown prince of Capital City. They went from attending school together to the wedding altar over the past decade. She not only completed her mission, but also fell in love with the target of her mission.

The day Yancy Shepherd died, Benedict Page poisoned our dinner. His eyes were wild, and bloodshot, as he watched me writhe in agony. There was a madness in his gaze, but worse was the hatred, a disgust so deep it twisted his face into something unrecognizable. "If it weren't for you forcing your way into our lives, Yancy wouldn’t have died from heartbreak. You ruined us! It’s all your fault!" A photo slipped from his trembling hand and landed at my feet—Yancy at twenty, looking radiant, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. I collapsed to the ground, my strength fading fast like a rose withering in the final grasp of winter. Helpless, I waited for the darkness to claim me, consumed by despair and bitter regret. Why hadn’t I listened to the system and killed him when I had the chance? But when I opened my eyes again, everything was different. I stood watching Benedict flee our engagement ceremony. My brother moved to chase after him, but I quietly raised a hand, stopping him. This time, things would be different.

I went to the bank to report a lost debit card. The teller casually asked, "Sir, there's a recurring patent royalty payment under your name. Would you like to link it to your new card?" Stunned, I froze. "What patent royalties?" The screen revealed that one of the accounts showed a quarterly deposit of $300 thousand in patent royalties. My mind went blank for a full three seconds. Then I remembered that, five years ago, my wife, Danica Pearson, had handed me a stack of documents, saying it was part of the company registration process. She said I "only understood technology, not business", effectively turning me into a figurehead consultant. I took a deep breath and told the teller, "Link it to the new card. From now on, transfer every payment directly to my personal account." That night, while Danica was overseas on a business trip, she booked the earliest flight home. At 2 a.m., she pounded on my bedroom door.

Three months before my wedding, my fiancé, Henry Siebert, decided it was the perfect time to drop a maternity photo shoot on social media—with my foster sister, Betty Foster. The caption? Oh, just this gem: [Legally welcoming our little one into the world.] Betty added a shy emoji. And my mom? She liked the post and wrote: [Once the baby is born, I'll help take care of it so you two can enjoy your time together as a couple.] I couldn't help myself. I replied with a single question mark. And then Henry's DMs came in hot: [She's just borrowing me for a year to get married. Once the baby's born, I'll come back to you.]

At the engagement banquet, Monique Walton is in the middle of telling all the guests and the viewers of the livestream that's taking place about our tale of romance. What she doesn't know is that I have already swapped out the romantic video of our sweet memories for the racy clip of her and Terry Caldwell going at it like rabbits. When the clip is presented on the monitor, everyone falls silent immediately. That's when the live comments on the livestream instantly overwhelm the comment section. Monique turns around in a fluster, the well-maintained smile on her face starting to crack bit by bit. She stumbles toward the control panel, accidentally knocking over the champagne tower in her haste. Amid the chaos, I draw to my feet and walk onto the stage. Then, I pick up the microphone Monique has just dropped. "Everyone, this engagement banquet is officially canceled. From now on, Monique Walton and I are no longer affiliated with each other."

A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary makes it to the trending topics. Everyone squeals over how romantic and touching it is. His secretary even posts on social media, "I've waited so long for you to appear, and I'm glad I didn't give up. I'll leave my life in your hands, Mr. Emerson." One of the comments goes, "God, this is so sweet. A CEO and his secretary—I ship them!" I don't weep or cause a fuss. Instead, I close the webpage and ask my boyfriend for an explanation. That's when I hear him talking to his friends. "I didn't have a choice. She would've been forced to marry someone she doesn't love if I didn't help her." "What about Vicky? She's your actual girlfriend. Aren't you afraid of her getting mad?" "So what if she is? She's been with me for seven years—she can't live without me." Later, I have my wedding on the same day as his. Our cars drive past each other, and I exchange bouquets with his secretary. When he sees me, he breaks down.

I was lying in bed, scrolling on my phone with my pregnant belly heavy in front of me, when a local news alert popped up. 'Wife killed in suburban murder case. Husband stabbed her to death after she refused intimacy during pregnancy.' I clicked it open, only to realize the article was dated for tomorrow. And the killer's name? My husband's. At first, I thought it was some sick prank or a glitch on the site. But then I saw the photo attached to the piece: our wedding picture. My face had been completely blurred out. The moment my heart seized, the bedroom door creaked open. My husband stood there, licking his lips, his smile so chilling it made my blood run cold. "Honey, I want you tonight."

My boyfriend, Blake Finch, has passed out drunk on the bed. All I hear is his loud snores. But his roommate, Dylan Olson, begins to scoot closer to me. I can feel scorching heat rolling off his body. "Giselle, what should we do now that Blake is asleep?" A mix of embarrassment and a quiet thrill shoots through my veins, making my throat go dry. "No… Ah… Don't do this… He's going to wake up…" As soon as my voice falls, I feel a hand rest on my butt. Soon, it starts groping me.

I find out I'm about two months pregnant before my wedding. Luke Logan drunkenly caresses my belly and half-jokes, "I'm not ready to be a father, Summer. Can we not keep the baby?" My heart is calm. I say softly, "Sure." In my past life, I insisted on keeping the child. Meanwhile, Riley Richards had an accidental miscarriage, making it difficult for her to conceive again. Luke held a grudge against me for that and treated me coldly after we married. As for the son that I put one foot in the coffin to bring into this world, he, too, cried and fussed. He wanted Riley to be his mother. Later, I got into an accident and suffered from significant blood loss. However, Luke and our son merely hurried past me to be with Riley as she went into labor. I slowly bled to death on the floor above, while Luke and our son celebrated the birth of Riley's child on the floor below. Now that I've been reborn, I won't lose sight of myself and take the wrong path again. I call Eric Nottingham. "I'll join the expedition team to Glacia."

On the day of our engagement, my fiance, Adrian Kinsley, and I are just about to exchange rings. His adopted younger sister, Sarah Nott, suddenly rushes onto the stage and exclaims, "She starred in porn movies, did you know that? How can you marry such a tainted woman?" All of our guests gasp in surprise. At first, everyone thinks it's some kind of prank. But in the next second, Sarah plays a video on the big screen and says, "The woman is quite the celebrity. She shoots more than 60 films a year, and her starting rate is 2,000 dollars per film." I stare at the face in the video that looks almost identical to mine. I'm stunned, as I'm the daughter of a crime boss with a fortune worth hundreds of billions. I casually hand out millions to my subordinates as rewards. Sell my body for 2,000 dollars? I have to be out of my mind to do that.