Floating Shelf Bedside Table Novels & Stories

Two shots ring. One dies with confusion, regret, and guilt. The other is left with hatred, pain, unresolved feelings, and shattered trust. When great power clashes with an equally great power, an overwhelming explosion is imminent, and many people are bound to get hurt. Especially those at the very center of the explosion, like Chen Kamman. When he was barely eighteen, he had to deal with the pain of losing two of the most important people in his life, taking over his father's dynasty, and fighting to maintain the Chen family's control in one of the deadliest mafia organizations in the world. Years later, he has made history, becoming the youngest cartel leader to ever dominate the system. After all he has been through, he has grown indifferent to everything: cold-hearted, savage, and impossible to hurt like before. But when Dian Aoki, someone he thought he had killed, appears in his life ten years later, everything he has built suddenly comes tumbling to the ground. All the memories and pain he had buried deep within him come floating to the surface, taking him back to the starting point again. The appearance of this person equally causes a major stir in the entire organization. Their very presence threatens to overturn the entire system and Chen Kamman's world.

On the night of the full moon, the Northern Wolf Pack held its annual honors ceremony. Alpha Rhys Ashbourne coldly handed out rewards to the elite wolf guards. My coworkers received bonuses. Spirit medicine. Weapons. When it was my turn, he suddenly stopped. “You don’t have enough seniority.” Low laughter spread through the hall. A black gift box was tossed into my arms. “So I prepared something else for you.” I opened the box. Inside lay a wolf fang collar. The floating comments exploded across my vision. 【Holy shit! The Alpha gave away his resonance collar?!】 【That’s basically like putting his manhood around her neck!】 【She doesn’t even know she’s a potential Mate yet!】 【If she touches it once, the Alpha over there is gonna lose his mind...】 I froze for a second. Then instinctively touched the wolf fang. The next second. The Alpha on the high platform stopped breathing. His hand clenched hard around the armrest of the throne. Meanwhile, I was only staring down at the collar in confusion. ...That sensitive? After hesitating for a moment, I obediently fastened the collar around my neck. High above the hall, the man closed his eyes. His throat bobbed slowly.

"Wider, Millie. Yes, that's it." I lay weakly on the examination table, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets. The voice behind me was low and restrained, but it made my ears burn. This examination position was too embarrassing. My buttocks were forced to arch high like some kind of submissive gesture. "Doctor, I can't open any wider..." I bit my lower lip, my voice trembling deliberately. I could see my reflection in the metal bars of the examination table. My messy hair stuck to my flushed cheeks as my eyes shone with a watery, dreamy glow.

Sign the contract, Maeve,” Carter Langston commanded, flinging the papers across the table with cold eyes and authority. She signed to save her family, not knowing she was stepping into a cage. Maeve married the ruthless billionaire who saw her as nothing but a pawn to secure his empire. Amidst all the humiliation her spirit refused to break. And when Carter’s younger cousin, Cameron—the man with soft eyes and dangerous kindness offered her the love Carter never could, her heart wavered. Torn between duty, betrayal, and forbidden desire, Maeve faced the impossible: which of the two men truly held her future?

My Mafia husband, Alessio, was sleeping with his stepsister, Sophia. In the car, the study, the bathroom, even on the dining table, they left evidence of their affair everywhere. "Sophia, don't worry. Once I solidify my position in the family, I'll give you everything." "Blair… she's just a tool to secure my position." In our eight years of marriage, he had whispered the sweetest words in the world to me. Now, his devotion was worthless. I didn't cry or cause a scene. Instead, I made a deal on the black market. In two weeks, Blair Greco would disappear from this world for good.

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

God gave me a beautiful face and a wealthy life. At the same time, He gave me the personality of a hopeless pushover and a simp. In my previous life, I fawned over Gabert Yates, putting him first in everything. In the end, Gabert, my obsessive childhood friend, imprisoned me in a pitch-dark basement, kept me as his captive, and tortured me to death. When I got a second chance, a few lines of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Chelsea Ziegler, remember this at all times! Simps end up with nothing!] [Your childhood friend is a total masochist. Crybaby, don’t be scared. Scold him!] [He’ll even give you his life if you insult him hard enough!] I wiped away my tears as I tilted my head up and spoke to him in a soft, trembling voice, “Y-you’re just a shameful illegitimate child… a bastard!” More comments popped up: [Yes, that’s more like it, but not harsh enough. Slap him!] I stood on my tiptoes, stumbling a little as I tried to reach up and slap his face. The “smack” was not loud, but it was crisp. Gabert’s dark, unhinged gaze suddenly deepened. Things seemed to be getting interesting…

"Does this mean you approached me on purpose?" Lucas asked with his eyes narrowed darkly and pure anger floating around his blue iris. "Fucking speak! Tell me the bloody reason you approached me?" Lucas yelled in her face as he slammed her back against the wall in the process. She stared in his face for a brief moment, looking very deep in his anger filled eyes, then she let out a mocking chuckle. "Yeah, I, Susan Owen approached you on purpose and I swear on everything unholy, I won't rest until I've made you feel every ounch of pain you made me feel" she let out a spooky laugh which sent an eerie chill down Lucas' spine, even her makeup is making her look like Lucifer's bride at the moment. Sophia Owen was once a sweet and lovely lady, just like every sweet ladies out there. She had always dream to graduate with good grades and get a good job, to cater for her family. But sadly, she met him and that was the end of her dream. However she found another dream and that's to make Lucas and his entire generation pay for what he did to her. Will she get her revenge?

Danice left the divorce papers on the bedside table. Ten years. She endured and stayed silent—all for the sake of love. Despite the opposition from those around her, she clung tightly to her position as Julian’s wife, believing that he cared for her. But it was all just her delusion. It had been ten years of a loveless marriage. Danice touched the burn scar on her face. This disfigured face had become both her shame… and her proof of love for him. But what she didn’t realize was that it had also become the chain that bound him to this lifeless marriage. He had married her… out of pity. That realization hurt more than any insult others hurled at her because of her appearance. She had held him back for ten years. And she had suffered enough. It was time to let go. Danice finally realized that her ten-year marriage had been a shackle—for both of them. Just as she found the strength to let go of the love that had never been returned… death came for her. When she thought she had stepped into the afterlife, she opened her eyes— Eleven years in the past. Unmarried. She hadn’t even met Julian yet. Danice believed that a merciful God had taken pity on her and granted her a second chance— A chance to live for herself, to love herself. And so, that’s exactly what she did. She avoided meeting Julian at all costs, and even found a way to escape the accident that had once disfigured her face. Everything seemed to be going smoothly— But... Why was the man who had never once looked her way… suddenly appearing everywhere she went? This… this wasn’t like the past at all!

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.