Code Geass Table Novels & Stories

I died with blood on my hands and betrayal in my heart. My husband didn't love me. My sister didn't respect me. And when I tried to expose them, they let me fall straight into a shattered glass table that ended my life. But I woke up a year earlier, with my voice restored and a second chance I didn't ask for. This time, I won't be the silent, obedient girl they walked all over. This time, I'll play their game better than they ever could. And when a billionaire offers me a deal I can't refuse, a fake marriage in exchange for saving his empire, I take it. They think I'm still that broken, voiceless woman. They have no idea what's coming.

Elena tried to get out of his grip but he was too heavy for her. “I am married.” She screamed. “You are not, not anymore.” He spoke as he bit her neck to the extent that she felt as if he will snatch out her flesh. “Please, let me go.” “That husband of yours lost you on a bet. I am the winner, and you belong to me. Just me.” She knew what Aslan was saying was right. John had indeed lost her on a poker table as if she was nothing but another of his belongings just like his watch or an old table. She pushed his chest with all her might but failed. It was her end. In this world where women were progressing, she was traded off on a poker table. She smirked at her fate. She was nothing. Nothing, but a lost bet.

It’s not the proposal Cinderella received, but this prince’s proposition will change my life forever… Mysterious and darkly handsome Nick Angelini, of royal descent, requests a secluded patio table at the rundown crab shack I’m desperate to buy and remodel—and he orders champagne for two. This is where he makes one incredibly stunning proposition. To me. Somehow, he knows my name, Bailey Storm. Somehow, he knows I want this property. Somehow… He knows all the right words to murmur about making my dreams come true and just the right way to sweep strands of hair from my face that sends a shiver down my spine. With hot and decadent evenings suddenly looming on the horizon, I’m considering giving him a royal heir in exchange for a restaurant. Seriously.

“I was told that they called you a demon.” Elena Valdez said, glaring at the Alpha whose eyes darkened with amusement. The man stared at his mate, the cop who was here to put him behind bars, hungrily. “I didn’t get the title for no reason, little wolf.” Alpha Alvize D'Caprio said, smirking as he approached her. His hot breath hit her neck as he breathed in her scent, pinning her against the table she stood in front of, making it harder for her to focus, caging her between his arms. “And you, neonata, are mine.” *** Abandoned under the excuse of protecting him. Alpha Alvize goes to New York City for a revenge that would shake the ground of wolves. Would Elena be the angel to stop him? Or would she too, crumble under the ashes of his anger?

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

When we're playing cards during the holidays, my cousin, Owen Thompson, suddenly calls it boring and tells us that he wants to make a big gamble. Then, he tosses his BMW keys onto the table and asks if we're bold enough to follow up with our own bets. I know that Owen is just trying to flaunt the fact that he's bought himself a BMW. Everyone is stunned by his antics. They quickly say, "This is just a game. We're not going to bet anything else." After that, they start complimenting how amazing Owen is to be able to own a BMW at such a young age. I, on the other hand, hesitate to do so. After all, my trump cards are a set of Ks. Having gotten his ego boosted by the compliments, Owen is about to flush the deck when I put my car keys belonging to a cheaper, rundown car. Then, I mumble, "I'm going to follow up with a bet of my own." Everyone falls silent at my statement. They just stare at me in disbelief, whereas Owen widens his eyes out of shock. Almost immediately, things grow heated between us. The moment both of us place our car keys onto the betting table, our feeble relationship as cousins is quick to vanish. But I don't regret my decision. Owen is the one who has decided to bet his BMW, after all. Since he's capable of being this ruthless toward his own relatives, I might as well not give a damn about his feelings at all. Owen lets out a cold chuckle before saying, "How much do you have in that pocket of yours, huh? You really think you can scare me, chump? I have a BMW, for crying out loud! You should gather more money first before placing your bet! Don't go around scamming others with just a shitty car!"

"Stop... Don't! I'm already at my limit!" I'm on my knees on the floor, tears streaming down my face, while a shirtless man stands in front of me with a leather whip in his hand. His voice stays gentle, but his movements never slow. "Babe, we're only halfway there." After I come back from the dead, I spend 80 million dollars hiring the most expensive male model in all of Navarro to spend the night with me. With that kind of money on the table, the service absolutely lives up to its price. He pulls out every trick I've never tried in my life. The next morning, I'm sitting astride him, using him as my morning workout, when suddenly there's one more person in the room. My husband, the Don of a mafia family, Leone Vieri.

At a family dinner that weekend, my sister, our relatives, and I played a reverse version of "Never Have I Ever," where you bragged about stuff nobody else had done. By the third round, everyone was getting into it. Uncle Danny bragged about seeing the city at four in the morning. My cousin Kenny said he could play three instruments. I said I'd traveled to three countries for work. Then it was Sophie's turn. She lifted her chin, eyes lighting up. "I own a condo that's only in my name." A beat later, she added, "Mom bought it for me. She didn't want my future in-laws looking down on me after I get married." The table went dead quiet. I looked at Mom on instinct. She lowered her head and messed with her apron, refusing to look at me.

"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.

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”