Fiction Crime Books Novels & Stories

The college entrance exam began, and I waited nervously for the papers to be handed out. Just as I was about to take the test paper from the invigilator, a floating line of text suddenly drifted across my vision. [Don't take it. The paper is coated with deadly poison. You'll die the moment you touch it.] Before my mind could even process what was happening, pure survival instinct made my hand jerk back. The paper slipped from my grasp and fell to the ground. I stiffly met with the invigilator's lifeless, mechanical eyes. He stared at me without blinking, then slowly bent down, picked up the test paper, flipped it over, and placed it back on my desk. "Good luck on your exam." His cold voice snapped me out of the fear brought on by that strange message. Just as I was starting to think that it was nothing more than nerves playing tricks on my eyes, the exam hall speakers started playing instructions. "The listening test will now begin. Please mark your answers on the corresponding answer sheet. The papers will be collected in 15 minutes. Anyone who fails to submit on time will be eliminated!" A wave of terror instantly overwhelmed me.

When I was ten years old, both my parents passed away. My sister, Brianna, and I only had each other left. We were tormented at the orphanage before the Larsons adopted us. They doted on Brianna and me, and even allowed their daughter, Vivian Larson, to get engaged to me when I was 20 years old. It was a wonderful tale of love. Vivian didn't let any of us down. She would have given me the moon if she could, and she loved me with all her heart. During the ten years we spent with the Larsons, Brianna and I led a good life and never suffered at all. The night before we got married, Vivian took out a treasured bottle of vintage wine. It was to be served at our wedding. However, I poisoned the wine and killed everyone in the Larson family, including my own sister.

Jack Cooke—my husband, who'd never so much as scrambled an egg—suddenly went full kitchen freak. He bought a ton of pots and spatulas, then spent all day just... polishing them. When I called him out, he shrugged. "I like things clean. That a crime now?" Behind him? A mountain of dirty socks. Then it got weirder. He dragged all the kitchen stuff into our bedroom. At night, he'd get weird with a dishcloth. Like, disturbingly weird. I was done. I asked for a divorce. Jack stormed into a private dining room and shredded the papers right in front of our investors. "You're seriously ending our marriage over this? Kinda dramatic, don't you think?" I didn’t blink. “I gave up my spot for your pots and pans. A little thanks wouldn’t kill you.”

My boyfriend is a forensic artist. He was forced to make a harrowing decision to save his first love. At the killer's demand, he created a portrait from a photo—he never realized that the young girl in the photo was me in my childhood. Two weeks later, the police investigate a grisly bomb explosion and dismemberment case. The victim's identity was unrecognizable, and the investigation dragged on for days as the authorities desperately searched the blast site, looking for my remains. After three days and nights, they finally recovered enough of my remains to reconstruct my face. When my boyfriend unknowingly brought the shattered fragments back to life with his art, he was confronted with a horrifying truth—one that drove him to the edge of madness.

A curse is cast upon everyone in this village, reducing us to mutes. But once a villager's lover takes three laps around the back mountain and marries said villager successfully, the curse on that villager will be broken. My childhood friend, who's the same age as me, has already gotten married and embraced his life as a regular person. Even my cousin, who's just turned 18 years old, has her curse broken as well. I, on the other hand, am about to turn 30 years old soon, and yet I'm still a mute. Whenever I'm about to get married, all of my ex-fiances, who kept telling me that they'd love me with all their hearts, would do anything just to terminate our engagements right after they came out of the back mountain. In order to proclaim his deep love for me, my tenth fiance, Isaac Jameson, tells me confidently that he'd definitely marry me once he's done with his laps around the mountain. But as soon as his words fall, his expression changes the moment he sets foot into the mountain. To my horror, Isaac picks up an axe from the ground and begins hacking at me with it. "Why are you still alive in this world? Why can't you just die already?" I can only lie on the ground while suffering from intense pain. I have no idea what's in the back mountain and why the same outcome will happen every time. Why is it that the entire village can break their curse so easily, and yet I can never get married despite having gone through it ten times in a row?

The Hawthorne Effect sets a story of a F.B.I survey into the criminal lives of certain individuals identified with a Crime Boss, Ron Druman whose identity the Bureau is unsure of. While the story goes on, a look into the immigrant lives of these individuals forced into crime is looked at.

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.

"You think you can just walk away?" he rasped. "Last night was a mistake," she shot back. "I don’t need you." He smirked, stepping closer. "That’s where you’re wrong, Squishy. You want revenge? You want Caleb and Isabella to suffer?" Elena’s pulse pounded. "Then let’s make a deal." **** Betrayed. Humiliated. Abandoned. After five years of marriage, Elena’s husband hands her divorce papers—right in front of his ex. Determined to move on, she drowns her sorrows in a bar… only to wake up next to a powerful stranger. Caspian Nightingale isn’t just any man—he’s her ex-husband’s ruthless uncle. And he has an offer: a one-year marriage contract. With his power, Elena can make her enemies pay. But as their deal turns into something dangerously real, she realizes one thing—Caspian always gets what he wants. And this time, he wants her.

Ten years ago, Natalia Cruz had walked out of Damien Carrington’s life as a young, broken, pregnant and helpless woman with nothing. But now, she is back as a top-tier lawyer, and she is back for revenge.

Astraea was a normal girl with extremely simple and happy life. But everything is jeopardized when she met a mysterious guy. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏. 𝑺𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓. 𝑨 𝒕𝒚𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓, 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚. 𝑨 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚. 𝑨 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 - I closed the book and a heavy sigh left my lips. I looked out of the library and there he was standing at the door. His arms flexed as his grip on the door tightened. He felt so close yet so far. And his eyes, his beautiful honey like eyes, it held a story. A mystery that seems to pull me towards him, no matter how much I resist. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞...