Flash Fiction Short Story Novels & Stories

In my second year running the company, my high school class monitor suddenly started tagging me nonstop in the group chat. [Alice, Vivian was only joking with you back then. Why won't you come to her party? Are you trying to make her feel guilty?] I didn't understand what was going on. Only after reading the messages did I realize that our class beauty, Vivian Spencer, had recently found her biological parents—and today, she had thrown a party to announce it to the world. Me: [I'm busy.] I had no intention of attending a party hosted by someone who used to bully me. But my answer didn't shut them up. Instead, it stirred up even more absurd speculation. [Don't tell me you're doing some kind of labor job and can't take leave?] [We're all former classmates. If you show up, I'll give you sixty dollars. That should cover two days of your salary.] Vivian chimed in as well. [Alice, it was just a joke back then. And I'd already dropped out by then. Why can't you let it go?] I stared at her message for a long moment before typing: [Only trash would call bullying a joke.] The group exploded instantly. [Vivian's no trash! She's a wealthy heiress. She's not even in the same league as you. Poor people really love to nitpick.] Vivian, ever the hypocrite, tried to smooth things over. [No matter what, today marks a new beginning for me. I hope you'll come to witness it. [We're classmates, after all. I don't hold it against you for forcing me to drop out. If you're short on money, I can even ask my dad to arrange a job for you.] Then she sent a screenshot of her chat with her father. When I saw her father's profile picture, I froze. Wasn't that the same profile picture as my freeloading dad? But I look seventy percent like my mom—it's impossible for me to be a fake daughter. And Vivian was two months younger than me. I let out a laugh. "Alright, I'll definitely attend your recognition party."

The intern secretly submitted a voluntary pay-cut application on my behalf. As a result, my salary dropped from $10,000 to $2,000. When I found out and confronted him, my boss and colleagues all defended him. "The company is not doing great right now. Oscar was just trying to save costs for us. Do you have to nickel-and-dime over this?" With my salary so low, I couldn't afford the special medication for my chronic migraines, and one day I passed out at my desk during an attack. But the intern snuck a video of me unconscious and posted it on the company's website. He even whipped up a detailed 100-page slideshow breaking down how I was slacking off on the clock and dumping all my work on him. Overnight, I was labeled a workplace bully. My boss gave me the cold shoulder, and my colleagues whispered about me. Even worse, some extreme "anti-workplace-bullying" activists tracked me down to my home, showed up with two cans of gasoline, and burned me and my parents alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the intern had submitted my pay-cut form. In this second chance at life, I would make sure everyone saw the intern for who he truly was.

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

Vivienne Vixen A cold blooded psychotic assassin with a bloodthirst like no other. She does what she wants, kills who she wants and crushes anyone in her way. The only one who can tame her is her dominating boyfriend Lucian. Lucian Ivanov The cold heart Russian mafia don. The very name itself holds years of bloodshed, nightmares and power. He's ruthless to all but her The psychotic little minx he can't seem to get enough of. Short story 18+

Rhian Monteclara, a fun-loving and fiercely ambitious 25-year-old, is the face behind Glam Perfume—the brand that brought “One scent, one story” to life. Rhian only wanted to forget a heartbreak—but one drunken night leads to a pinky promise with a dangerously charming stranger in a crimson suit. She wakes up in his bed, wearing a nightdress she doesn’t recognize… and a promise she might’ve made to marry him. The catch? He’s not just any man—he’s Damon Damien Alejandro, a powerful mafia boss with secrets as lethal as his smile. And now, she might be his… whether she remembers it or not. But what if their meeting wasn’t random? What if he’s been watching her all along? And what happens when a bubbly dreamer finds herself in the deadly world of crime, secrets... and a husband who may be her greatest danger—or her only salvation?

“The contract was clear, no strings, no feelings. But then he pinned her against the wall and made her forget her own name.” A hot billionaire needs a wife to receive his inheritance, Nathan Rossi does not give a damn about many things except his inheritance. Nathan does not want any commitments so he meets Rachel and arranges a proposition that he feels would benefit them both. This is how Nathan and Rachel's story begins but it gets more complicated, hot and very steamy coupled with a rollercoaster of emotions. Maybe there will be a happy ending for them both.Then again, maybe not.

“You are my proxy wife”! The five words that split her world apart. The five words that knocked her to a shocking reality.     ***************************** The best day of Samantha's life was when her mother unexpectedly told her that the famous billionaire's heir, Ethnan, was going to pay them an official visit at their humble home. Samantha declared herself the luckiest girl in the universe when she learned through her mother that the billionaire was head over heels in love with her and wanted to marry her…. Relying on her mother's words, Samantha took sudden marital vows with the billionaire. What seemed like a perfect dream come true would soon morph into her darkest nightmares.

Isebella’s life takes a dramatic turn when her mother falls gravely ill, with one final wish: to see her daughter happily married before she dies. Desperate to fulfill her mother’s dying request, Isebella makes a reckless decision at the Moonlight Party. She marries the first man she meets, Ryan, a stranger with no family, no wealth, and seemingly no future. To Isebella, it’s a temporary arrangement—just enough to give her mother peace. Afterward, she plans to walk away, no strings attached. What she doesn’t know is that Ryan is far from ordinary. From the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was his destined mate. And behind his quiet, humble façade lies a secret that could change everything. Ryan is the son of the Lycan King, the most powerful prince of the empire. As Isebella and Ryan’s worlds collide, their unexpected union sparks a thrilling journey filled with passion, danger, and ancient secrets. Will Isebella discover the truth before it’s too late, or will her heart be claimed by the very man she never expected to love?

Amelia waited for Zack at the Civil Affairs Bureau to get married, but he abandoned her. He only showed up to break their engagement, accusing her of being “cheap” after seeing the fabricated photos that had always destroyed her chances. Her heart broke, especially knowing her mother would be furious if she failed to marry yet again. At the peak of her despair, a stranger approached her. Tall, handsome, and charismatic, he too had just been left by his bride-to-be. Without hesitation, he offered Amelia marriage, saying they could both benefit from it. Shocked and uncertain, Amelia hesitated. But weighed down by pressure, humiliation, and her desperate desire to escape the Rinov family, she finally accepted the reckless proposal.