Flew Novels & Stories

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

I was the only daughter of the Sheffield family, and I had three older brothers. Life was going well until a memo app appeared on my phone. [June 15th: My eldest brother, Ian Sheffield, signed a bet agreement with his female secretary, and Sheffield Group's market value plummeted by 80 billion dollars.] [September 3rd: My second brother, Hayes Sheffield, was tricked by his dream girl and left the shareholders' meeting with nothing to his name.] [December 1st: My third brother, Liam Sheffield, gave up his inheritance rights for his dream girl, and the Sheffield family was completely ruined.] Just like that, I, Trina Sheffield, lost all three of my guaranteed providers? From that day on, I began the 'Save My Providers' plan. I swiped Ian's black card for 30 million dollars a day, causing him to become busy handling returns and customer complaints all day. I flew Hayes' private jet to Prosia and casually dismantled the entire interior, saying I was going to redo it. He was so mad that he kept me under surveillance through an eight-hour international video call. I turned Liam's temperature-controlled wine cellar into a karaoke room and sang all night, even using all eight million dollars' worth of wine for foot baths. Dark eye circles constantly plagued my three brothers from all this fuss; they did not even have time to look at their phones. As long as I was around, they could only revolve around me. This went on until a female secretary, Erin Langley, suddenly appeared in Ian's office. She glanced at me, her tone gentle but her eyes icy. "Little girl, the CEO's office isn't a playground. You can get lost and go play now." The corridor fell silent. My most fiercely protective brother, Ian, was about to push open the door and walk in.

While packing Ethan's flight bag, I found a custom solo wings pin. The engraving on the back read: For Lark, to celebrate your first solo. Beneath the box sat the receipt for Skyler's flight school tuition, paid in full by Ethan, along with a photograph. In the photo, she was sitting in the pilot's seat. Ethan's gloved hand rested over hers on the control yoke. Seven years ago, I had sat in that same seat. Back then, I was one step away from my first solo flight, but Ethan talked me out of it again and again, always claiming it was "for my own good." He said flying was dangerous, that someone had to stay home and take care of things. I put down my logbook, pressed the wrinkles out of every one of his captain's uniforms, and spent seven years living by his flight schedule. Only now did I finally understand. It wasn't that he didn't want to take anyone flying. He just didn't want to take me. What made it even more absurd was that the night Skyler first flew through the clouds, I was alone in a hospital, losing our baby. I called him over a dozen times. At three in the morning, he finally called back, his voice flat and indifferent. "I just took Lark through the clouds. Next time something comes up, give me a heads-up." I put the wings pin back exactly where I found it, then pulled the crumpled ultrasound printout from the bottom of the drawer and tucked it inside the logbook that had been gathering dust for seven years. This time, I wasn't going to wait for him to look back. He convinced me to leave the pilot's seat, then turned around and put another woman in the sky. So I would leave him and take back the sky that had always been mine.

The factory had just finished expanding when my wife insisted on bringing her older brother in as our driver. The very next day, my brother-in-law sold my $45,000 business car to a used car dealer. Not only that, he had the nerve to lecture me. "You're just a small business owner," he said. "Driving a car this expensive is a waste. You might as well sell it and buy gold for my sister. At least that'll appreciate in value." I swallowed my anger and tried to explain. "I've never treated her poorly. I've never missed a holiday gift. Compared to what others spend, driving this car is already modest." He flew into a rage instantly. "You still dare talk back? My sister gets treated like a maid by your mother every day, and you pretend not to see it. "Driving a luxury car, pretending to be rich, probably thinking about keeping a mistress. As long as I'm around, don't even think about it. "In my family, women handle the money. You'd better transfer all your assets to my sister." I turned to leave, but he punched me straight in the eye. When my wife rushed over, she did not defend me. Instead, she scolded me for looking down on her family. While I was being treated for my eye injury, she even allowed her brother to sell all the gold and expensive watches in our house. They used the money to buy a car for his son and even sold the house just to show off their wealth. Meanwhile, she went online and complained about how miserable her married life had been. I was so furious I was speechless. In the end, I called the police. Since they were so eager to get their hands on my money, I decided they would not get a single cent.

"Mine "he growled. Absolutely NOT ''No'', my voice felt low, although I didn't know him. His aura reflected strength and power. It made me scared, but I wouldn't let it affect me. I am standing my ground no matter what power he holds '' Oh, you're very stubborn !? What do you mean, no? We both know that female wolves listen to their mates according to the law. So unless you don't want to get killed I suggest you behave "he tried to grab my wrist, and I immediately flinched and pulled away. ''NO, don't" "I am your mate, you will obey me! Why are you acting like this? I don't want to hurt you, but if I have to I will" HURT ME!! , he's got some nerve talking to me like that, little bitch. Is he trying to make me angry? Obey it seems, I stopped doing that years ago, and no one will make me obey them. Again As he grabbed my left hand, my right hand immediately flew to his cheek and made contact with his face. He looked shocked, serves you right. You have no right to touch me without my permission, mate or not. "I told you 'NO', but you were too arrogant to listen. You'll regret what you just did to me after you find out who I am 'mate' " "I am sure you would be surprised too, after finding out who I am. Next time I am sure you'll think before you slap someone. By the way that slap hurt a lot. I want to find out why you are so violent "he replied smugly. Jerk. Who does he think he is? Men are awful, it will stay like that forever.

My mom is a pathological liar who enjoys making herself seem like the victim. Unfortunately, I'm always the scapegoat. When I was little, there was one time when she went out to play poker with her friends. As a result, she forgot to go home and prepare dinner on time. After that, she slapped me in front of the entire family. "This brat ran off to god knows where earlier! I went out looking for her, which is why dinner got delayed!" Because of that lie, I had to kneel in the courtyard throughout the night. When I was studying, I had to take an extremely important exam. My teacher repeatedly reminded the parents to prepare all materials required for their children. But my mom didn't even prepare anything for me. After that, she even said in front of everyone, "I've already prepared the materials for her. She was the one who threw them away when she was on her way to school because she didn't want to take the exam at all!" Since then, all of my classmates ostracized me throughout my entire school life. After I came of age, my mom kept crying to me in the middle of the night. "Your father has been abusing me for so many years. I had to endure everything for your sake, you know!" I advised her to get a divorce, only for her to tell an exaggerated version of what I said to my father. "Your daughter egged me on to divorce you! She said she doesn't need a useless father like you! I couldn't stand it anymore, so I'm telling you this!" He flew into a fit of rage on the spot, which led to him accidentally pushing me down the stairs. I died on the spot from the fall. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day my mom cries to me about my dad for the first time.

My girlfriend is the true heiress of a wealthy family, yet she suffers from severe paranoia. She's convinced that everyone is out to exploit her. She never believed in my love. In her eyes, I stayed with her only for status and money. To prove my sincerity, during our seven years together, I never spent a single cent of hers. I handed over every paycheck I earned. As for myself, I couldn't even afford a few dollars for a taxi. Every day, I walked five kilometers to work. Then one day, my mother was in a sudden car accident. The doctor called and told me to come see her for the last time. The hospital was thirty kilometers away. There was no way I could make it on foot in time. Left with no choice, I asked my girlfriend to transfer me thirty dollars for a taxi. She flew into a rage. "Simon, thirty dollars is your entire monthly living expense. How dare you ask me for that much all at once? I almost believed your feelings were genuine. But now I see—you're no different from those gold-diggers!" In the end, I never made it to see my mother one last time. When I returned home in a daze, I found my girlfriend throwing a birthday party for her childhood sweetheart. He was wearing the latest luxury watch, his face full of smug pride. "This is the one you bought at an overseas auction, right? Worth thirty million," he said. "You wouldn't even give Simon thirty dollars for a taxi. You're really generous with me." My girlfriend smiled indulgently. "It's only thirty million. It's not like I can't afford it. "Besides, how could Simon ever compare to you? Today, he dares to ask me for thirty. Tomorrow, he'll dare to ask me for thirty thousand. "I've always known it. He's been with me just to take my money." I stood there, frozen, my heart sinking into the abyss. 'It's fine. I don't want her money anymore. And I don't want her, either.'

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.

My little brother, Rylan, wanted to go to the park. However, Dad told me to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't wander off. So, Rylan said he wanted to play hide-and-seek at home with me, and I agreed. Unfortunately, I couldn't find him after he hid. I searched everywhere for him. I looked through all three floors of the house and even searched the yard. At the time, I just thought that Rylan had found an incredible hiding spot. It wasn't until that evening that our neighbor brought him home with the police. Only then did I realize that Rylan had slipped out of the house while I'd been counting with my eyes covered. Terrified that Dad would find out he'd snuck off to play, Rylan threw his arms around Dad's leg and burst into tears. "Dad, Caleb threw me out of the house!" Dad flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. "How could you be so cruel? Your brother is only five years old! You told me he was playing hide-and-seek with you. You rotten liar!" But Dad... I was only seven. I tried to explain, but Dad never believed another word I said. From that day on, I ranked lower than even the chauffeur in our house. Every day, I was fed spoiled leftovers and forced to sleep in the doghouse. When I was 12, a bad woman kidnapped me and made me call Dad for ransom money. All I got in return was his furious voice yelling over the phone. "You rotten liar! You really will say anything for money, even something like this. If they won't let you live without it, then go ahead and die." The woman was so furious that she kicked me off the unfinished balcony of an abandoned building. I hit the ground, and my body was splattered beyond recognition. Before I even had a chance to feel the pain, I found myself drifting upward. Dad… I hadn't been lying.

My wife, Ula Grove, was best friends with a man named Jordan Loof. On the day we all gathered to celebrate Eira, Jordan’s daughter’s birthday, our own little girl, Faye, made the silly mistake of taking a bite of the cake ahead of time. Ula flew into a rage and locked Faye in the basement. “Why do you have to compete with Eira over everything? You even made her cry on her own birthday! It was just a piece of cake, yet you acted as if you had never seen a cake in your life!” Ula then taped Faye’s mouth shut with adhesive tape. “Stay right here and think about what you’ve done. You’re not coming out until three days have passed.” The basement was pitch dark with no light at all, and there were poisonous spiders, too. Faye would not last half a day in there. I cried and begged Ula to let Faye go, but Ula remained unmoved. “What other tricks are you trying to pull? How many times do I have to tell you that Jordan has it hard enough raising a kid on his own? I asked you to be considerate, but you couldn’t! You and that little monster insist on doubling down on bullying a single-parent family!” I clutched her sleeve and begged her to just let Faye out. I even swore that I would take Faye and vanish from her life. Ula pulled away before kicking me to the floor. Then, she said coldly, “Since you can’t stand to be away from her, then go rot in there with her! I’m sending Jordan and Eira abroad in three days, so you two can stay locked up until there’s no way you can bully them anymore.” After Ula sent Jordan and Eira abroad to enjoy themselves, she finally remembered Faye and me. She picked out gifts and was about to come pick us up when she received a call from her assistant, Alex Quill. “Mr. Elwood and Faye are gone!”