Double Trouble She-ra Novels & Stories

The day I land a hundred-million-dollar deal for the company, my girlfriend—Paisley Needham, the CEO—finally agrees to marry me. The next day, I wait at the city hall until it closes. She never shows up. Instead, what I get is her official announcement with her assistant, Jude Grayford. In the photo, she nestles in his arms. A crisp marriage license sits in her hand, impossible to miss. The caption reads, "My CEO, Ms. Paisley Needham, couldn't bear to see me going on blind dates, so she just went ahead and got the marriage license with me today. I'm so happy!" My colleagues gossip, assuming I'll be jealous and furious. I don't. I just like the post and comment, "So, when's the ceremony? Don't forget to invite me!" Paisley calls immediately, cursing me out. "I just didn't want to see him being pressured into blind dates by his parents, so I agreed to get married on paper to keep them off his back. It's not like we're actually married. Do you really have to be so petty? "Delete your comment right now and get on your knees to apologize to Jude. If you don't, I'll never marry you." I laughed bitterly. "Even better," I say. "I hope you two have a long, happy life together… and have lots of kids."

For ten years, I stand by Robert Lopez's side, watching him rise from the trenches of obscurity to the blinding heights of superstardom. But on the night he clinches the Best Actor award, he drops to one knee and proposes to a starlet he's known for less than ten days. Those eyes that are so full of love and devotion, no matter who they're looking at, turn cold and threatening for the first time. "Danielle, I've slept with her, so I need to take responsibility. You're willing to stay by my side without a title or a promise, but she can't. She needs a sense of security." A bitter laugh escapes me. That's when I finally understand that love has nothing to do with time. But hear this, Robert. Just because I've waited for you for ten years doesn't mean I deserve to be treated like trash or that you're the only man for me.

Three years into a contract marriage, Elena Voss had made peace with the truth: Adrian would never truly choose her. So when Vivian returned — beautiful, ambitious, and everything Elena feared — and Adrian carried that woman to the hospital while Elena quietly dressed her own burns alone, Elena made a decision. She would be the one to walk away first. She signed the divorce papers. Gave up nearly everything. Booked a flight to somewhere Adrian would never find her. She never made it to the airport. When Elena wakes up, she doesn't know her name, her past, or the man who has apparently been tearing apart an entire city looking for her. What she does know is the tiny heartbeat she's carrying, the worn tan line on her ring finger, and the damaged document in her bag that tells her she once fled an unhappy marriage to protect her child. Five years later, Elena renamed Aria is a celebrated musician on a national tour, a mother to a little boy who asks for a father with heartbreaking persistence, and almost a wife. Julian's ring is on her finger. The wedding date is set. Her life, rebuilt from nothing, is finally whole. Then the tour brings her to Adrian's city. He sees her across a crowded room and loses every rational thought he has. She looks at him the way you look at a stranger and it nearly breaks him. Because Adrian has spent five years believing she was dead. He has spent five years knowing, too late, that he loved her. And now she is here, wearing another man's engagement ring, raising a child who has his eyes, and she does not remember him at all. He acts like a man losing his mind. He probably is.

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".

It's the final round of this year's Pack Pup Tournament. I can't take my eyes off my pup, Patrick Grant, as he wins the title. When the host calls Patrick's parents onstage to celebrate, I leap up, thrilled. But then I see Nicholas Grant, my Alpha mate, walk up with his secretary, Natalia Lawson. They stand side by side under the spotlight, kissing Patrick on both cheeks. It's as if Natalia is the mother, as if she's the Luna of our pack, as if they're the perfect family. I can only stand there in the audience, feeling the weight of countless startled stares, too ashamed to lift my head. Later, Nicholas brushes the incident off. "You were seated farther back. It was easier to bring Natalia up on stage," he explains. Easier? I swallow the humiliation and force myself to believe it was just an unfortunate coincidence—until today, that is. I sense through our blood bond that something's wrong with Patrick, so I drop everything and race to the pack hospital. But when I arrive, Patrick is lying in Natalia's lap, whining to her in a soft voice. I step forward to introduce myself, but the healer only looks surprised. "The emergency contact form lists Natalia as his mom, though." It turns out Patrick himself had stripped me of my role as his mother. And Nicholas didn't stop him. I finally understand. I don't belong in this family anymore. That night, I tell Nicholas I want to dissolve the mate bond between us. He doesn't even look up as he says, "Don't be dramatic. You'd dissolve our bond over a single name on a form?" "Yes."

I fell asleep in my fated mate Alpha Zane’s office. When I woke up, a magical seal was branded on my face. “Blackmoon Pack’s Slut.” And there was Dahlia, Zane’s new omega assistant. She held an Alpha’s seal, a taunting smirk on her face. “Why is a porcelain doll like you meddling in pack business?” she sneered. “You should just stay in your castle and be the pretty little trophy you are.” My wolf snarled, ready to crush her with my aura. But just as a vase flew at her head, Zane was suddenly there. He shielded her with his own body, his own Alpha power flaring to meet mine. He scowled at me, his voice tight with fury. “Dahlia was just playing a prank. Don’t be so dramatic.” But my eyes locked on the exposed skin of Dahlia's neck, where she was nestled in his arms. There it was. A fresh bite mark. And it reeked of him. Dahlia let out a contented purr, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “My Alpha knows I never attended the academy, and I was getting so bored. So to entertain me, he let me play with his Alpha’s sigil to practice creating magical marks.” She giggled. “I was just playing a little game with the princess. You’re not going to be a sore loser, are you?”

During the awards portion of the annual charity gala, the host suddenly walked onto the stage holding the hands of ten children. “Tonight, we have one more very special honoree.” “She passed away after an accident, but before she died, she donated every viable organ in her body and saved the children standing beside me right now.” In the front row below the stage, the eldest son of the Sanders family, dressed in an expensive suit, let out a scornful laugh. “I wonder what idiot did that. She was already dead, and she still had to chase fame.” Beside him, Mrs. Sanders looked deeply distressed. “Her body isn’t even whole anymore. How is she supposed to rest in peace? Her parents are so cruel. How could they not stop it?” Mr. Sanders gently comforted his wife, then turned and instructed his secretary. “Once we confirm which family she belonged to, cancel every partnership we have with them from now on.” The host’s voice rang out again. “Next, please welcome the honoree’s parents to the stage.” “Chairman Sanders and his wife.”

I've been a goody-two-shoes for 18 years. The only outrageous thing I've ever done is get into a secret relationship with my stepbrother, Kieran Brock, even though my mom and my stepfather, Andre Brock, are still living in the same house as us. During the day, we're stepsiblings who aren't familiar with each other. At night, however, we tangle with each other heatedly in the same bed. During the fifth year of our underground relationship, I accidentally overhear Kieran's conversation with his friend. "When you were 21, you robbed your stepsister of her virginity. Now that you've toyed with her for five years, aren't you planning on giving her a legitimate position by your side?" I feel my heart tensing. Somehow, I look forward to hearing Kieran's answer. As Kieran plays with his lighter, he shoots his friend a flippant smile. "Like you said, she's my sister. She's not meant to be known as my lover. Had I not plan on getting revenge on her mom for ruining my family, there's no way I'd sleep with her! "Also, I've already proposed to Vivian. She's the only woman who is worthy of becoming my wife." I don't break down and demand answers from Kieran. Instead, I pretend to not hear anything as I turn on my heel and walk away. On the day of Kieran's wedding, he specifically tells his friends to watch over the venue to prevent me from causing trouble there. What he doesn't know is that I've already boarded a flight meant for another country. This time, I will never come back.

Celeste Vane was twenty-four when Diana Hale dismantled her family’s company with a legal maneuver so precise it left no trace of wrongdoing — only ruin. Four years later, Celeste returns. She walks into Hale Group as a junior financial analyst, unseen and underestimated. But she has already spent years quietly acquiring fragments of the very system that destroyed her family. Every step inside the company brings her closer to reclaiming what was taken. And closer to Marcus Hale. Marcus is nothing like what she expected. Controlled, perceptive, and infuriatingly fair, he is the one man who sees the real structure of her mind — and the one person she cannot afford to be seen by for too long. Celeste is not there to survive Hale Group. She is there to dismantle it from within. But the longer she stays, the more the lines blur. Marcus begins to trust her. And against every rule she has lived by, she begins to trust him back. Then there is Diana Hale — watching Celeste’s rise with quiet precision, as though she has been expecting her return all along. As buried financial truths surface and old alliances fracture, Celeste faces a choice she never designed for: the revenge she built her entire life around, or the man who makes her question whether the woman she became in pursuit of it is someone worth keeping. When Diana finally moves, Celeste will have to decide what reclamation actually means — because what she built in the wreckage may be worth more than anything taken from her.

When I'm in my senior year of high school, my mom, Bethany Stout, is diagnosed with uremia. Even after our family sells the house, we are still 300,000 dollars short on the dialysis fee. I pack my bags overnight, ready to go to work on an assembly line at an electronics factory. The class belle, Natasha Ferris, grabs my shirt tightly at the train station ticket gate. She's someone who usually blushes even when speaking a little loudly, but that day she forces a bank card into my hand. "The password is your birthday. Consider the money a loan. You're not allowed to miss the SAT." I say I may never be able to pay this money back in my entire life. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "Then pay me back slowly, but you cannot ruin your life just like this." Throughout the four years of college, she transfers me 800 dollars for food every single month without fail, and the note is always "eat more meat". Mom survives the kidney transplant surgery, and I also secure a guaranteed admission and enter a top-tier company. But Natasha cuts off all contact without any warning. Eight years later, I am the youngest partner at the major company, with an annual salary of ten million dollars. Yet, Natasha's name appears in a mockery video of a local matchmaking group. "Not only is this woman already 30 years old and has a sick mother, but she's also demanding 100,000 dollars as a wedding gift? Is she crazy or what?" When I watch the person in the video wearing old clothes, head lowered while enduring people's criticism, my eyes sting with tears. I push aside the signing ceremony for a ten-million-dollar project and pick up the bank card and my Social Security card. This time, it is my turn to catch Natasha when she falls.