Gacha Table Novels & Stories

My child-free husband went back to his hometown for a funeral, and after he returned, he suddenly wanted me to have a baby. He was one of the best obgyns in the state, so he handled my IVF procedure himself. After more than 160 hormone shots, we finally heard the baby’s rhythmic heartbeats for the first time, which made my usually calm husband tear up. Soon, he tightened every part of my routine, from a strict diet to my schedule, and once my belly started showing, he barely let me get out of bed. I thought he was just being overly protective. But then, right by my ear, I heard a nasty little boy’s voice. [Which player starts their mission inside the womb? And she’s not even my mom!] [Just four more months. My dad will make sure she dies on the operating table so he can keep only his son.] [After that, he’ll bring my real mom back, and my mission will be complete!] I canceled my afternoon checkup immediately as soon as I heard this. Did the system forget to tell him that he wasn’t the only player in this world?

After Celine Anderson let her newly-promoted assistant take credit for my billion-dollar project for the ninth time, I handed in my resignation letter. I also refused to show up in the same place as her. Whenever she was interviewed by talk shows as a public figure, I would switch off all the screens in the building. I also got the security guard to stop her from entering even if she brought me a cup of coffee in the middle of a tornado. To see me, she purposely rescheduled three virtual meetings with foreign companies. So, I immediately bought air tickets to leave the country. I blocked her everywhere and formatted the hard disk that contained all of our memories from the past decade. When I was twenty, I studied with her in the university library. When I was twenty-five, I ate the cheapest bread with her when she first started her company. When I was thirty, I finally knew how to let go of things that no longer serve me. On the ninth time I was accused of sleeping my way up, I came across a photo of her and her assistant kissing. Meanwhile, I was sitting at our dining table with food that had turned cold. It turned out that our decade-long relationship had been a joke. However, it was fine. It was not too late to come to my senses.

Before Christmas Eve, all of Nowevik was betting. Not on money. On me. Would I finally pull the winning lot? Would Leon Fabian finally take me to his family estate for Christmas? The Fabians had a rule. A new bride had to attend the Christmas Eve dinner with the whole family before she counted as one of them. I'd been married five years. Five years. The lot never landed on me. I'd become Nowevik's favorite joke. This year, the winning ticket went to a nightclub hostess. She lounged on Leon's lap and flicked it onto the table in front of me, smiling like she'd already won. The room went silent. Everyone waited— for me to lunge at her like I had the last four years. Claws out. A scene. But I didn't move. "Congratulations." Leon leaned in, breath warm at my ear, smiling like he'd just proved something. "Wynne, you're finally learning how to behave. Keep this up and you might actually become a proper lady of my house." I lowered my eyes and tore the ticket in half. My face stayed blank. Leon had no idea the five-year deal between my brother and me was already over. Soon, he'd come take me home.

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

On the night of my engagement party, Luca Moretti walked his childhood sweetheart over to me. "Clara accidentally stained her dress," he said. "Let her borrow yours for a while." He added, "Everyone knows you're the main character tonight. It doesn't matter what you wear." I didn't bother objecting. The gown was already on her. I stood behind the half-closed back door in a borrowed black dress while his men laughed over their whiskey. "Luca, is your real fiancee going to lose it?" someone asked. Luca barely looked up from his glass. "Anna is going to be a Donna. She needs to learn grace." Another man snorted. "Besides, she's an orphan. Where's she gonna go without you?" Luca smiled. "She can't leave me." They didn't know I had never been an orphan. I had buried the Valenti name for five years because I wanted Luca to love me as Anna, not as the Valenti daughter. My father is the Mafia Chairman, the man every family answered to when the highest table met. That night, I took off the Moretti emerald ring, left it beside the guest book, and called home. "Papa, I’m not marrying Luca. Don't come to Chicago."

The family was holding a celebration for my newborn daughter. For some reason, my husband, Jonathan Shamrock, brought his secretary along. At the dinner table, his secretary dropped an unpeeled shrimp onto his plate and said matter-of-factly, "I just had my nails done, and I'm still wearing the diamond watch you bought me. Peel this for me." The Shamrocks' friends and family stared at Jonathan in shock, but he peeled the shrimp without missing a beat and popped it right into his secretary's mouth. Something inside me shattered. I stared at my old and very outdated clothes. Then I looked at my hands, rough and callused from years of being neglected. Then, Jonathan spat out something cold. "A man's wife shows the world how life has been treating him, and you look no better than a worn-out servant. You don't work. You don't even bother looking presentable. You contribute nothing to this family. "Starting tomorrow, we'll split every household expense evenly. I'd rather put my money into something that actually gives me a return." "Sure," I said quietly, and added nothing more. Then I called my brother. "Pull your investment out of Jonathan's company. I'm getting a divorce."

Back when I was young and dumb, I slapped some college guy working a side gig at a nightclub. My boyfriend had just ditched me for my best friend, Vanessa Shannon. Then, not even five minutes later, I caught her in the corner, sliding her hand under another guy's shirt. He bit his lip and just took it. Something in my brain short-circuited. I stood up and walked over. If Vanessa wanted him, why couldn't I? But the second I reached for him, he smacked my hand away. Vanessa cracked up. The whole private room turned to watch. Mortified, I slapped him. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." Later, my family went broke, and I ended up working at a nightclub just to get by. The private room was loud as hell. I lost a game, and everyone at the table started chanting for me to take my bra off. My face went hot. I stood there, completely frozen. Then a low voice cut through the noise with a cold laugh. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." I looked up. Our eyes locked. His stare was icy, full of pure mockery. It was the college guy I'd slapped years ago.

Strapped to a torture table, his body almost shrivelled up from lack of vitality left to sustain him. He made a wish before breathing his last breath. He wishes to reincarnate into a world with no complications. A peaceful world where he would reunite with Nimalaya and make her the happiest woman. A world where there is peace. A world where he wouldn't die on her as he was about to. His wishes were granted.  He reincarnated into the future. The human world. A CEO at a young age, a top-class hacker born into a happy family and blessed with a friend who was like a brother to him. A peaceful life he got, but is the human realm a peaceful world? ********** After losing her mate to a human scientist and trying to burn everyone and everything with her flame, she was eventually killed. Finding her way to the human realm to find her mate, Nimalaya had no memory of her past life yet found herself repulsed by humans.  She had come to be with her mate in the supposed peaceful world. A powerful and possessive demon had come after her. Someone who will go to any length to have her for himself.  ……… This is a love story between a sex coach and a nosy CEO. Death had once separated them, but fate beats that. They were meant to reunite and be together.

When James Chapman and I first got together, I was a regular student while he was one of the most popular guys in school. Five years down the road, I'm still a regular woman. James' attitude toward me has changed drastically, though. He frequently complains about my appearance. I know it's because his true love is back in the country. He misses our fifth anniversary because of her. His true love makes fun of me for being ugly to his face, so he orders me to get cosmetic surgery at her newly opened clinic. He wants me to use my fanbase to make her business boom. "You're so ugly that you'd be the perfect person to prove Barbara's skills… if she can actually make you look better, that is. We're all friends, aren't we? What's wrong with lending her a hand? Stop being so petty!" Barbara Simpson kills me—I die on the operating table in her inhumane clinic. James thinks I go missing because I'm just throwing a tantrum, but he realizes he's wrong when he finds my mangled body in the basement. The diamond ring he put on my finger is still there, too.

“What the fuck is this, Amanda?” Xander’s eyes scanned the document, his jaw tightening, a vein throbbing at his temple. Amanda didn’t flinch. Her smile was soft and cruel as she slid the pen across the table without breaking eye contact. “It’s a contract,” she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. “Sign it... so I can use you until I get bored.” Four years ago, Amanda gave her heart to billionaire Xander Westwood, but she was betrayed in return. She was labeled desperate, dragged to a hospital, and nearly forced into an abortion. And thanks to her manipulative stepsister, she was disowned by her father. However, she disappeared without a trace, but not before giving birth to triplets, two of whom she took, leaving one behind with the man who shattered her. Now, Amanda’s back. Richer. Colder. And dangerously calculated. Her revenge is no longer just a fantasy, it's a plan. A plan for her sister who betrayed her, and the family who turned their backs. And the man who thought she’d stay broken. This time, she holds the pen. And they all play by her rules. But love, like revenge, has a cost, and when secrets begin to unravel, Amanda must choose between the vengeance she craved and the love she thought was dead.