Ember Snow Cheating Novels & Stories

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

On our anniversary, my husband, James Marshall, purchased a painting as a gift for me with my secondary credit card. When I got home, I went to my study to retrieve an urgent court document. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the flirtatious voice of my assistant, Julie Summers, mingled with my husband’s low murmurs. “James, your wife is just a money-printing machine. What does she know about art? She could never appreciate you like I do.” James sighed. Then, in an indulgent tone, he said, “Claire is too perfect—so perfect it’s suffocating. Not like you, full of life and warmth.” Just then, my mother-in-law, Susan Marshall, called James. He put her on speakerphone. “James, you need to move faster. While Claire still trusts you, turn all her client contacts into yours. That Julie girl seems promising. She’s much easier to control than that iron-fisted career wife of yours.” I gripped the cold doorknob, listening to the pair of shameless lovers in the study and the wretched woman on the phone, and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I forwarded asset-protection filings for all my holdings to my legal team. “I’ll see you all in court, parasites.”

On Christmas Eve, Adrian Moretti left my father and me on an icy lakeside road because Lucia Vale called and said she was sick. The defibrillator that could have saved my father was in his armored SUV, driven away by the man my father had trusted for seven years. I called Adrian until my fingers went numb. When he finally answered, Lucia was crying on the other end, and his voice held only impatience. “Elena, stop making this dramatic. Wait for the escort car. Lucia needs me right now.” By the time the Moretti men arrived, my father was already gone. An hour later, Lucia posted a photo from the Moretti estate. She stood beneath the Christmas tree in Adrian’s coat, pale and fragile, with his hand resting on her shoulder. The caption read: Christmas feels like home when he is here. I looked at that photo for a long time. Then I liked it and left a comment. Merry Christmas. I wish you both a lifetime together.

I woke up naked beside a man I hadn’t seen in eight years. Before noon, the scandal was everywhere. By noon, I’d lost my position as CEO, my name, and my marriage. But the worst betrayal wasn’t the headlines. It wasn’t walking in on my husband and my best friend planning my downfall and mocking me. It was finding out the man I loved, my sweetheart of five years, made me a surrogate without my knowledge. The twins I'd been carrying for seven months weren't mine. But it failed to break me. It only made me stronger. After all, I wasn't just a mother—I was a CEO.

During a game of truth or dare at our pre-wedding party, my fiancee, Marissa Jones, plays a game of truth-or-dare with her childhood friend, William Chase. The one who chooses dare is required to sleep with the person next to them. Alarmed by the dare, I quickly suggest, "Why don't you choose truth instead?" However, William refuses to let that happen. He eyes me scornfully and says, "I can't believe you still have such an old-fashioned mindset. I don't mind sleeping with her, so why are you making a big deal out of it?" He turns to Marissa and asks, "Will you sleep with me, Rissa?" Everyone else in the room starts egging them on. "Kyle is way too uptight. If Marissa won't do it, I will. Pick me, William, you handsome devil!" I grab Marissa's arm and try to leave with her, but she flings my hand off. "If I leave now, what about William? We're about to get married anyway, Kyle. Can't I have one night of freedom?" She climbs right onto William's lap, and the crowd cheers wildly. As I stare at Marissa and William, I know without a doubt that my relationship with Marissa has come to an end.

Five years after my death, my husband, Lucas Grant, wanted me to take the blame for his lover in a drunk driving incident. He had barged into my house with forged evidence, but realized I was not inside. He had no other choice but to knock on my neighbor’s door. However, my neighbor told him, “Joan? She died a long time ago. “I heard that the family of that case was not happy with the verdict, so they abducted her the day she was released from prison. She was tortured for three days straight!” Lucas did not believe the neighbor. He was furious that I was creating a ridiculous lie just to escape. He yelled angrily at my neighbor. “Don’t think I’ll believe you! Joan must have paid you to lie to me! “Tell her that it’s no use hiding. If she doesn’t contact me in three days, I’ll no longer pay the alimony for that rascal!” However, he did not know that the person that his lover had killed in the drunk driving accident was the very rascal he was referring to.

On the eve of our engagement party, my fiancée, Alissa Coleman, gets a marriage certificate with her male best friend, Rhys Pritchard, and celebrates it in the bar. Yet, she acts completely unconcerned about what she has done. She says flippantly, "It was just a joke. We'll get divorced tomorrow. Everyone knows Rhys and I are just best friends." Rhys responds with a provocative grin. "Even though the marriage is just for a day, there's still a special bond between us. Are you all just enjoying the show and won't even prepare a wedding gift for us?" Everyone at the table laughs raucously. "Sure. I happen to have a project in the western suburbs. I'll give it to you as a wedding gift. But there are rules at this table. If you want it, you'll have to win it with a game of dice." I say nothing more and simply take a seat at the table. Meeting Alissa's perplexed frown that is directed at me, I flash her a small smile. "Isn't this supposed to be a dice-rolling game for wedding gifts? I'd like to play too," I said.

BLURB After catching her boyfriend in bed with another woman, Arlyn wants two things for Christmas: distance from heartbreak and a fresh start. A disastrous airport chase, a mistaken identity, and, yes, a bite mark later, she meets the hottest man she’s ever seen… and the biggest jerk she’s ever attacked by accident. She thinks she’ll never see him again. Until she walks into her mother’s new husband’s mansion— And finds the airport stranger standing in the foyer.

So there I was, stuck in this dark Victorian mansion for a whole freaking century, thinking I'd never get out. Then, out of nowhere, these two gorgeous girls swoop in and rescue me! I couldn't believe it, and we instantly hit it off. They showed me a whole new world I'd only ever imagined, and I was all about living a normal human life.   But just when I thought things were looking up, this vampire named Vivaldi pops up out of thin air, grinning like a possessed Jack-o'-lantern. I mean, a name like Vivaldi is bound to give you the creeps, right? He claimed I had some ancient first blood running through my veins and demanded that I sign some crazy blood contract with him—the kind of deal that comes with some seriously freaky consequences.   Vivaldi was trying to sell me the idea that this blood contract was his only lifeline, the only way to save his skin from something worse than death. But I wasn't some clueless newborn vamp; I knew better than to just dive into something as serious as a blood contract. Those things come with some heavy consequences, and I wasn't about to sign up for that without a second thought.   The problem was, if I didn't go along with his messed-up plan, he promised to make my friends' lives a living hell—the very people I'd started to care about. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place. If I decided to team up with Vivaldi, I'd be keeping him around, which is far from ideal. But if I refused, my friends and the whole town of Shadowvale would be in serious danger.    It felt like I was caught in this impossible situation, like I was trying to choose between two rotten apples.

On Valentine's Day, I suggest going to a restaurant to celebrate, but my boyfriend, Michael Nelson, refuses. He says impatiently, "Why should we celebrate some lousy holiday? I don't want to waste good money on it." He turns around and happily chats away on his phone, completely absorbed in the conversation. Then, I hear the system's notification going off in my head. "Congratulations. You have received 2,860 dollars." This means that Michael just transferred 1,430 dollars to his side chick. He doesn't know it yet, but I have a system. It's called the Infidelity Cashback System. Every time he spends money on his other woman, I get double the cashback in my bank account.