Novel & Cerita Data

He demoted me. Humiliated me. Made my life a living hell. And now, he's claimed me as his. When ruthless billionaire Nathan Bryant bought the company I worked for, I became his favorite target. One day I had a promotion waiting—the next, I was nothing but a data entry clerk beneath his cold, piercing gaze. I should have quit. I should have run away and never looked back. But I couldn't afford to. So I stayed, enduring his cruelty, surviving his games... until the night everything changed. The night he saved me. The night he kissed me like I was the only thing keeping him alive. Now I'm trapped between his arms and his secrets, drowning in a love I never saw coming. There was just one tiny problem: He's the stepbrother of my best friend—the girl who was betrayed by his family. Loving him means losing her forever. And when the war for control turns deadly, I'm caught in the crossfire. But will our love be enough to survive the wreckage? Or will we both burn in the flames of forbidden desire?

Daphne Vega has one rule: never feel anything. She's a professional con artist. She seduces, she steals, she disappears. Emotion is a liability she can't afford. So when intelligence broker Adrian Wolfe offers her millions to infiltrate billionaire CEO Celeste Laurent's empire — seduce her, access her classified AI technology, deliver the data — Daphne says yes without blinking. Simple job. Wrong woman. Because from the moment Daphne walks into Celeste's world wearing a fake name and a practiced smile, Celeste looks at her like she already knows every lie she's ever told. And instead of exposing her — she pulls her closer. Now Daphne is living in Celeste's penthouse. Wearing Celeste's arm like a crown at billion-dollar events. Playing the perfect fake girlfriend while executives inside Laurent Axis start dying one by one. Accidents. Suicides. Disappearances. The deeper Daphne falls into Celeste's carefully constructed world, the harder it becomes to remember where the performance ends — and where she begins. Then Celeste says four words that change everything: "I knew from the beginning." And Daphne realizes she was never the spy in this story. She was the trap. But if Celeste already knew she was a traitor… why does she still look at her like she's the only honest thing she's ever touched?

Kesley Bellamy has perfected the art of sabotaging blind dates — for a price. When her best friend begs her to scare off yet another setup, Kesley agrees. A thousand dollars to act crazy for an hour? Easy money. She'll chew gum like a maniac, mention her pot-smoking habit, and maybe proposition the guy for good measure. He'll run screaming, and she'll finally fix her dying laptop. But the man who walks into that restaurant isn't the balding, boring businessman she expected. He's Niklaus Specter — the devastatingly handsome CEO of SpecterTech. The same company Kelsey just applied to. The same company that's her last hope of breaking into the tech industry as a female developer. Worse? He doesn't run away. He finds her antics... intriguing. Now Kesley has three days to transform from "Taraji Gilbert" — the pot-smoking, sex-crazed teacher who just propositioned him — into Kesley Bellamy, the professional data analyst who desperately needs this job. But Niklaus Specter didn't become a billionaire by missing details. And when Kesley walks into her interview on Monday morning, she's about to discover that some mistakes are too expensive to hide. Especially when the CEO remembers everything. A hilarious, steamy romance about mistaken identities, second chances, and the fine line between disaster and destiny.

My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within. When the holidays came, I went to visit her. But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly. "Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!" I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder. "Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!" Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—" Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart. "Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive." Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit. This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife. "If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."

After I come back to decades ago, the first thing I do is feed a million-dollar production patent to the pigs. In my previous life, I handed that patent over to the government. My husband turned me in, accusing me of faking the data and scamming a fortune in patent royalties. Overnight, I went from being a celebrated genius researcher to a lying thief that everyone despised. As I prepared to pull out my manuscript to prove my innocence, my husband's childhood sweetheart beat me to it. She waved it in front of everyone and accused me of misconduct and plagiarism. My husband took her side, reprimanding me, "I know you've always been jealous of Juni for being well-educated, but I can't believe you were bold enough to steal her hard work. What are you going to do next? Embezzle state funds?" I couldn't defend myself. No matter what I said, no one chose to believe me. The other researchers assaulted me so badly that I bled out and died. After my death, my husband and his childhood sweetheart took my patent without a second thought. The never-ending stream of patent royalties made them rich and powerful. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very day she accuses me of stealing.

I had been managing the company’s warehouse software for five years. Then the new manager came to me out of the blue, saying I didn’t understand frontline operations and that I was being fired. Looking at the five-thousand-dollar severance, I just nodded. “Fine.” He patted my shoulder after seeing me so compliant and started lecturing. “Young people should be out on the line, moving boxes! What’s the use of sitting in the office staring at data every day? “We’re a logistics company. Strength is what matters, not a tech geek like you!” I glanced at the high-end gaming computer in his office and obediently replied, “Yes, Mr. Fuller. Lesson received.” Maybe I had been too comfortable these past few years, and he thought I was dispensable. So, I handed over my ID badge and casually deleted all my personal login keys from my computer. Little did he know that the entire warehouse logistics, inventory management, and route planning software had been coded by me. I had let the company use it for free simply because the place was close to home and the work was easy. Now that I was gone, the system running on my personal cloud server was naturally inaccessible. Tens of thousands of items in the warehouse ground to a halt. As for any commercial software that could replace my system, a year’s subscription would cost exactly one thousand times my severance.

For four years, I worked three jobs to support my husband, Edward Godfrey, while he chased his PhD and battled ALS. And somehow, in all that time, I'd never stepped foot on his campus. Not because I didn't want to. Every time I brought it up, he had some excuse ready. When graduation came, I asked to go to his hooding ceremony. He shut it down fast. "It's just a formality. A bunch of lab nerds. You'd be bored. Once I bring the diploma home, we'll have a candlelight dinner." I didn't argue. Just helped him straighten his doctoral gown. But I couldn't hide how excited I was. So I dressed up. And secretly followed him. Onstage, Edward stood beside his wheelchair, voice thick with emotion. "I want to thank my wife. She stood with me in the lab, even while pregnant, helping me grind out countless precious data points." I froze. My hand pressed against my flat stomach. Cold crept down my spine. For four years, I'd busted myself raw to support his PhD. I went from the girl everyone on campus admired to a fish seller, reeking like seafood every day. Worked so hard I miscarried twice. So who exactly was this "wife" he was thanking?

To scrape together my mother's surgery money, I worked myself to the bone at this company for three straight years. My performance was always number one. By myself, I supported half the sales department. Then, a newly hired HR director decided every desk needed an AI camera, claiming it was to optimize efficiency. Every blink, every breath I took was measured and calculated by the system. "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray blinked more than twenty times within one minute. Mental distraction detected. Fine: 50." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray took 3.5 seconds to drink water, exceeding the standard by 1.5 seconds. Slacking detected. Fine: 100." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray's mouth corners drooped for over thirty seconds. Suspected spread of negative emotion. Fine: 200." The most ridiculous part was the way he stood in front of the entire department, pointing proudly at my data on the giant screen. "See that?" he said smugly. "This is the power of technology. In front of AI, you lazy freeloaders have nowhere to hide. Nathan, your bonus for this month has already been wiped out by the system. If you don't like it, get lost. Plenty of people are lining up to take your place." What he didn't know was that the AI system he trusted so blindly had its core code written by me. Tonight, I was going to show him what happened when he angered the one who built the machine.

I throw myself into cryogenic research so I can keep my only family on this Earth. However, halfway through it, my fiancé embezzles all the funds to propose to Sophia Kensington, his true love. I panic when I see the ice in Mom's brain start to melt. I have no money to continue with the research. I'm in utter despair when Leonard Shaw, a rising star in the biomedical field, comes to me with millions of dollars in funding. The research can continue. Just three days later, something goes wrong with the experiment. Mom explodes in cryogenic chamber. I'm shattered by this, but Leonard stays by my side throughout it all. He helps me move past this and continue with my research. I think he's the light of my life until I overhear his conversation with his secretary. "Is it worth it marrying someone you don't love for Ms. Kensington's sake, Mr. Shaw?" "Sophia is my life. I'm willing to do anything as long as she's healthy and happy." "But will Mrs. Shaw still continue helping Ms. Kensington if she learns you tampered with the data and killed her mother?" "She'll never find out. Besides, I'm already using the rest of my life to make it up to her. That's more than enough…" It turns out Leonard's love is just a conspiracy. My heart turns to ashes in that moment. I sign an agreement to seal my body cryogenically. He'll never find me ever again.

During the annual awards gala, I stepped out to use the restroom. When I came back, my year-end bonus was gone, canceled for allegedly assaulting a new coworker, Elan Crowe. In my first life, I desperately tried to prove my innocence by showing my fitness tracker’s movement data, proving I had been in the bathroom. Calder Roane, the department head, flew into a rage. "Everyone in the department saw you hit him. And you still want to deny it?" I struggled and explained frantically, but in the chaos, I accidentally fell down the stairs and died on the spot. In my second life, I took medical leave and skipped the gala entirely. I never expected that just past noon, the police would surround my home. "Lyra Vale, you’re suspected of intentional homicide. You need to come with us." Elan’s enraged family had then rushed forward and stabbed me repeatedly. I died again. In my third life, I ran to the city plaza, started a livestream, and rapped on camera, turning every viewer into my alibi. That night, the police still came. "The evidence is conclusive. Please come with us." At the station, they pulled up surveillance footage. It clearly showed me sneaking into the gala hall, arguing with Elan, then picking up a knife and stabbing him straight in the back. I was completely stunned. Three days later, I took a bullet. After endless rebirths, I finally laughed in anger. This time, I stormed straight into the gala hall, pressed a knife across Elan's throat, and said, "This is a kidnapping."