Does Sukuna Become Good Novels & Stories

When I received the news that my fiancé, Ellison Perez, had postponed our wedding for the 18th time, I happened to be walking out of the hospital, clutching my medical report. Once again, he had delayed our wedding for an entire month, all because of my adopted foster sister, Becky. I thought about what the doctor had told me. After hesitating for a long time, I finally dialed Ellison's number. "I can't wait until next month. If we can't get married tomorrow, there won't be another chance." However, Ellison only took my words as another fit of childish willfulness. "Don't be unreasonable, Lily. Have you forgotten how Becky took your place as the hostage? She was tortured for a whole month before being rescued." "It's because of you that she developed severe trauma. Now you can't even wait one more month for her to recover?" I could hear my parents' voices chiming in over the line. "Becky still suffers from extreme fear of men. Ellison is the only one who can calm her down. Isn't it your fault she ended up like this?" "You're being selfish, Lily. A wedding can wait, but Becky's condition can't!" I had known for a long time that ever since that incident, my entire family had chosen Becky's side. Even so, tears streamed down my face. "Fine," I said softly. "Postpone it." I clenched the medical report tightly in my hand. They did not know that just moments ago, the doctor had told me the truth— I was in the final stage of liver cancer. I only had one month to live.

I've loved Jonathan Pickle for half my life. I used my family's resources to help him attain success. However, in the third year of our marriage, he brought his mistress home to stomp all over my pride. That wasn't the worst of it—he even destroyed my family. … I open my eyes to see Jonathan in his university days. Unexpectedly, I'm not the only person who's been given a second chance at life.

On Valentine’s Day, my girlfriend Florence Higgins was rushed to the hospital after accidentally eating undercooked wild mushrooms. Half-conscious on the hospital bed, she murmured, “Michael… I owed you too much. If my family’s company hadn’t been on the brink of collapse, you wouldn’t have left, and I wouldn’t have ended up with Noah.” I am Noah Owens. As for Michael Connor, he was the love of her life. The one she cherished most during her youth. What she seemed to forget was that when her family’s company was about to collapse, Michael had been the first to walk away. During those seven years, I was the one who helped revive her company, the one who stayed by her side. I believed she might eventually have a change of heart, but I never expected her to abort our child for the sake of her first love. At that moment, I finally understood that you can’t force warmth where there is none.

"I, Grace Hawthorne reject Logan Harper,” I announced with steel in my voice. The hall fell into deep silence, I could hear the sound of sweat dripping from Logan’s forehead or my father’s increasing heartbeat. Logan's face contorted with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Grace, what are you doing? This is our wedding!" “Not anymore. I reject you.” I announced once again. My father, Daniel, standing nearby, was seething with rage. He stepped forward, his face contorted with fury. In a fit of madness, he raised a hand as if to strike me, but before he could make contact, a commanding voice rang out, stopping him in his tracks. "How dare you lay a hand on my Mate?" Xander had appeared in a flash of power, his presence filling the room. His eyes bore into Daniel’s with an intensity that sent a chill down everyone's spine. Everyone’s face paled seeing the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, anger rushed through Daniel’s features and he roared. "Not your mate, she is my daughter." Xander cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You dare to touch what’s mine and I will show you what a real Alpha can do for his mate." Xander’s growl had an intensity that shook even The wolf council. His deep blue eyes bored into mine and a slow smile grazed his features, he gestured to me to come toward him and I did. “Miss me Darling.” he purred, and a chill ran down my spine.

Three years into my fake death, my wife and daughter showed up at my door. To get rid of them, I grabbed a knife and threatened to end my life. Then my seven-year-old daughter put her hand on my father's ventilator. Claire Harrison stood beside her, her voice trembling as she delivered her ultimatum. "Wesley, either you see your father suffocate to death, or you come back and be my husband again. Your choice." I was shaking with rage, but I put down the knife and remarried her. Walking back into that familiar villa, I became the Harrison family's model "devoted husband and father." When my foster brother needed her company because he was feeling down, I cleared out and booked myself a hotel. I ended up with a perforated ulcer, went into surgery, and never once called her. When my daughter got picky and said she only wanted her uncle's cooking, I went straight to Dylan's place and brought him back to live with us. Even on my birthday, when Dylan suddenly started crying and said, "I'm so jealous of you, Wesley. You've got such a wonderful wife and kid. Me? I've never even gotten a decent birthday present," I didn't hesitate—I slid the onyx bead bracelet off my wrist and pressed it into his hand. The deep black beads gleamed against his pale skin. But Claire's eyes went red. She grabbed my wrist, her voice sharp as a blade. "Wesley, that was the love token I prayed for you—step by step on my knees—all the way across the Mojave."

“Sign the divorce papers, Nicholas,” Eleanor said quietly. “I’m done begging to be loved.” Eleanor spent fourteen days in the hospital with three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and bruises covering her body. Yet not a single person came to see her—not the family she gave her all to fit into, and certainly not her billionaire husband of two years, Nicholas Beaumont. For the first time in her life, Eleanor chose herself. She cut ties with the family that had never wanted her and walked away from a loveless marriage she had spent years trying to save. Nicholas had never looked back when she was by his side. But the moment she was gone, he realized that losing Eleanor Beaumont might be the biggest mistake of his life.

For ten years, Kim Danielson loved Nathan Pearce. But when she finally became his wife, he made one thing clear—he could never love her back. She spent two years chasing an emotionless man and fighting for his attention, which left her heartbroken and exhausted, turning her love into bitter resentment. Determined to reclaim her happiness, Kim demands a divorce. But Nathan refuses to let her go. Just as Nathan starts to soften toward her, his first love returns, ready to take her rightful place by his side. At the same time, Kim’s old friend, Giovanni Ferraro, steps in, offering her the love and devotion Nathan couldn't give her. Caught between a man who will never love her and one who’s ready to give her the world, Kim faces an impossible choice—fight for the marriage she built on pain or embrace a future filled with passion with Giovanni Ferraro.

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”

On our wedding day, the big screen glitched—then flipped to kissing shots of Caleb Gorman and his "girl best friend," Holly Beech. Holly shot up, hand over her mouth, smiling all fake-innocent. "Relax, everyone. We were just messing around. Caleb and I go way back. Guess that makes me wife number two." Caleb smiled, soft like always. "That's just her. She's a total blabbermouth. Don't take it seriously." I looked at him. Calm. "She plays kissing pics of you two at our wedding and calls herself your 'wife number two.' That's messing around?" His face tightened. Annoyed. "It's a few photos. We've been together five years. You're really gonna nitpick something this small and not let it—" I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Yeah. I am. I'm not letting it go." That hit him. He wasn't used to me standing firm. I turned to the crowd. "This wedding's over."

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."