Countdown To Nothingness Novels & Stories

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.

Reborn as the long-lost Rogers heir, missing for fifteen years, I avoided every chance to bond with my two brothers in this family. When they tossed me Vivi’s discarded, ill-fitting gown for the family gala, I smiled and put it on. When they sent Vivi to get an elite education while ordering me to scrub the utility room, I picked up the mop without a word. When they let Vivi chase love and dumped her rejected suitor on me, I didn’t fight. I accepted her leftovers with a calm nod. This was all because in my past life, I had spent my entire life desperate for my brothers' approval, only to end up despised by everyone for it. When I died in the crossfire of a gangland shootout, my own son pushed my body away in disgust. "Mom, did you really waste your whole life on such a petty fight with Aunt Vivi? Dying for the family would have been a more dignified end. At least then you wouldn't have disgraced our name." I left this world filled with resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I first set foot in the Rogers estate. This time, I'm done fighting. The power, the name, the honor. I'm letting them have it all. I’ve already been accepted into a closed-door medical project. Soon they will never see me again.

Three years ago, Alaric shattered all expectations. The proud Alpha heir of the Black Moon Pack, he defied the Elders and broke a thousand-year-old bloodline law. He chose to mate with me. A rogue Omega. When his childhood sweetheart, Rowena, humiliated me, he threw her entire family out of the pack. After we mated, Alaric’s love for me became an obsession. Everyone said he would tear the whole North apart if I even got a scratch. I thought I was special. The one rogue lucky enough to capture the future Alpha's heart. I thought our mate bond meant he'd be loyal forever. Until I discovered his betrayal. He had a pup with Rowena. And the mate mark he gave me? Our bond? It was all a lie. I turned to my best friend. "In three days, help me fake my death. I need to disappear from Alaric's world forever."

I'm Alpha Kaelen's fated mate. It took him ninety-nine tries to win me over, and every wolf in the pack knows he loves me more than life itself. But after we were mated, he started breaking his promises. My birthday, our anniversary... he always had an excuse. "Sorry, baby, an important ally is visiting. I have to be there." "Honey, there's trouble on the border. I have to handle it. You'll have to spend your birthday alone." Every time he bailed, he'd give me a ridiculously expensive house to make up for it. So, even though I was disappointed, I still believed he loved me. Until the day he gave me the ninety-ninth house. That's when I got the photo from his ex-girlfriend, Eileen. In the picture, Kaelen was asleep beside her, completely unguarded. "Did he tell you he had pack business last night? The truth is, I told him I wasn't feeling well, and he came running. ;)" So all ninety-nine times before... it was always her. My heart shattered. This time, I was the one to hand over the papers. The one-hundredth property transfer. And tucked inside, I'd added something a little extra: our bond dissolution papers. Kaelen didn't even look. He signed it without a second thought. And in one month, on the night of the full moon, our bond would officially be broken.

He had lied to me sixty-six times, promising he would let go of his childhood sweetheart. But whenever she needed him, he still ran to her first. I lied to him only once. I slipped the Mate-Bond Dissolution Agreement into the ceremony documents and had him sign it. In my previous life, I stopped him from going to her one last time. Iris died under the claws of border rogues, and Damon hated me until his wolf soul shattered. This time, I chose to let him go. Today was the final day of the public notice period. With three hours left, I packed my bags and booked a private pack flight back to the border. With two hours left, I severed every moon-energy tie between us and burned our only photo. With one hour left, I left him a letter. “This is the tenth year I have loved you, and the first day I leave you.” Later, he chased me to the airport like a madman. But this time, I would not look back.

My husband, a regiment commander, once promised me he'd only accompany his depressed first love ninety-nine times. But when I finally reached that ninety-ninth tally, I saw the two of them locked in a tight embrace. After that, I stopped crying and begging him not to go to her. I only asked him for a safety locket—a small blessing for our soon-to-be-born child. At the mention of the baby, his expression softened. "When I get back," he said gently, "I'll go with you to the hospital for the checkup." I nodded obediently. I didn't tell him that ten days earlier, I had already filed for divorce. Now, our divorce was final.

After eight years together, I've proposed to my boyfriend 108 times. Each time, he found a different excuse to turn me down. On the 109th try, I give up a promotion and transfer opportunity. Finally, he said yes. I think he's moved by my sincerity. But instead, he brings his first love into our marital home and falls into our bed with her. "I only proposed to her to spite you. If you just say the word, I'll dump her at the altar and marry you instead!" Staring at the scene before me, I take the tight engagement ring off my finger and toss it down the drain. I decide to call off the wedding before he can. But after I walk away, the man who swore he'd marry someone else went crazy searching for me everywhere.

My mate, Charles, commander of the fire brigade, left me alone in the den with our unborn pup after I refused his request to bring his first love, Lisa, and her pup into our home so he could take care of them. Five days later, Charles reached out—claiming he wanted to ease the tension between us. He asked me to deliver the herbs that help with his insomnia to the fire brigade. On the way there, I was in an accident. I mind-linked him, begging for help, but to my shock, he refused. I believed he was training the new werewolf firemen—but the truth? He was in the infirmary, not for duty, but with Lisa and her pup. After losing my pup, I walked away—shattered, betrayed, and done.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.

How much did my wife love me? To marry me, she proposed ninety-nine times. I was not moved until the hundredth. On our wedding day, I gave her ninety-nine make-up cards. We agreed that as long as all of them were not used up, I would stay with her. Five years into our marriage, she used one card every time she went out to be with her crush. When she reached the ninety-seventh card, she suddenly noticed that I had changed. I no longer begged for her to stay. When she lost control because of her adorable secretary, I asked her, “If you don't come back tonight, can I use a make-up card?” She paused for a moment and then softened, which was rare for her. “Okay.” I nodded and let her leave. She thought she still had many make-up cards. She didn't realize this was his last chance.