Glass Novels & Stories

I was three months pregnant when our enemies ambushed me on a private drive in Manhattan’s East Side. A bullet punched through the window. Glass buried itself in my shoulder. With the last bit of strength I had, I hit the Moretti family’s encrypted distress signal and called my husband, Adrian Moretti, for help. He didn’t come. Later, I found out he had pulled the Moretti family’s best trauma surgeon and security detail away that night to stay with his old flame, Evelyn Langdon. She had just lost her husband. She was carrying his child. She said a nightmare had left her gasping for air. I lost our baby in the emergency room. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Evelyn’s new post. [Some people don’t need to ask. He’ll still drop everything and come running. Thank you, A. You always know what I need most.] In the photo, Adrian was kneeling by her bed, fastening the ruby necklace around her throat. The same necklace he had promised me for our tenth anniversary. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I called Professor Clark. “Professor, I’ll take the classified seat at the Artemis Northern Institute. Start the Black Ice Protocol. Wipe my public identity as soon as possible.”

The night before our wedding, Jason Scott receives the cancer diagnosis of my adopted younger sister, Helena Sanderson. His expression falters, and he says indignantly, "We'll cancel the wedding tomorrow, Victoria. Helena is very fragile now. I can't risk upsetting her at this point in time." I reply, "I don't agree with it! Why would my wedding upset her?" Jason doesn't show any displeasure after my rejection. He even thoughtfully prepares a glass of milk for me. … When I wake up the next morning, I realize the house that should be full of excitement is eerily quiet. Anxious, I dial Jason's number 99 times. He only picks up the call on my 100th try. "Where did my wedding dress and shoes go?" I ask. Jason falls silent for a moment. His tone is apologetic when he replies, "I'm sorry, Victoria. Helena wants to experience being a bride once. I can't let her leave with regrets. Please bear with this for now. I'll make it up to you once she passes away peacefully." As the line goes dead, I sit frozen on the bed, unable to recover for some time. … A month later, while Jason is on his honeymoon, I send the livestream of my wedding announcement with his rival, Frank Lawrent, directly onto his phone. Jason regrets it bitterly.

In her first life, Elara Silas was a biological insurance policy a spare part for her sickly brother and a shadow to her saintly twin sister, Elena. Her existence ended on a cold operating table, her heart harvested while her husband, John Grant, watched with chilling indifference. But death was only a detour. Waking up three years in the past, Elara is no longer the obedient dog begging for scraps of affection. Armed with the memories of her family’s ultimate betrayal, she prepares to dismantle the Silas empire from the inside out. Her first move? Rejecting her father’s control to sign a secret contract with his greatest rival: the enigmatic and breathtakingly handsome Orion. Expectations shatter when she meets him. Orion isn't just a powerful jeweler; he is a man haunted by the same ghost. In a world-altering revelation, he confesses the truth: he wasn't a bystander in the first life—he was the man behind the glass, murdered by Elara’s father while trying to save her. Now, two souls who died in the same tragedy are united by a lethal alliance. As Elara returns to the Silas mansion to play the role of the repentant daughter, she finds herself trapped in the same deadly games—including Elena’s blood-soaked frame-ups and her mother’s toxic healing schemes. But this time, Elara isn't alone. With Orion’s shadow looming over the Silas household and a black opal ring hiding a shared secret, the hunt has begun.

My cousin, Tiffany Wilkinson, brought her new boyfriend, Isaac Lloyd, home for the first time. The dinner was going great, chatting and laughing like everything was perfect. Out of nowhere, Isaac locked eyes on me, his face lighting up with fake surprise as he practically shouted, "Wait, don't I know you from somewhere? Aren't you in that 'Elite Escort Group'?" He added, "I swear I saw your rate card in the group photos... It was only 200 dollars or something?" He slapped a hand over his mouth afterward, putting on this innocent act like he had just let something slip. The lively dining room went dead silent in an instant. My relatives' looks turned cold and judgmental, making me utterly uncomfortable all over. "He looks so decent on the outside, but he's actually doing that kind of thing behind closed doors." "You're such a disgrace to the Wilkinson family. Don't even tell people you're related to us from now on." Dad was so furious he slammed his wine glass down, and Mom sat there wiping away tears. I calmly dabbed my mouth with my napkin, then looked at Isaac with a knowing smirk. "Makes sense that I look familiar. I'm with the Vice Squad, and I just busted you in a sting operation last month!"

Samantha Sonnet, my wife who's also a hospital dean, decides to replace my name with Nicholas Spark, the intern's name on the surgical atlas that I've spent the last three years drafting without my permission. That atlas is then published. I burn the only original draft of the atlas in front of the entire department. Samantha blames me for being brash. "He's just leaving his name there so that he can ensure a smoother project closeout." After dusting the ashes away, I reply, "My academic achievements will always be mine. Since someone else's name is printed on my achievements, that means they are no longer pure." Later at midnight, Samantha hands me a glass of warm milk in an attempt to apologize to me. When I regain consciousness once again, I've already gotten strapped to a surgical table beneath a huge spotlight. I see a scalpel glinting coldly right above me. "You're a man of purity, right?" Samantha murmurs into my ear. "Three people's blood will be coursing through your veins soon enough. You'll be impure soon enough!" At the moment, Samantha is livestreaming an illegal organ removal surgery. As I stare at the camera hovering above my head, I say coldly, "If you've recorded enough evidence, then it's time to turn off the camera! Tell Captain Hardy that I've gotten my hands on the evidence he wants!"

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

This was never truly a choice. It was an ultimatum. A marriage to a stranger. A business contract disguised as a wedding. Vanessa slid a pen across the table. “All you have to do is sign.” Selena stepped forward and stared down at the marriage agreement. Adrian Kingston. Even the name felt dangerous. But the moment she pictured her mother lying unconscious in that hospital bed, her hesitation shattered. Before her heart could stop her, Selena picked up the pen and signed her name across the paper. The ink glided beneath her hand, sealing away the last fragments of her freedom. Vanessa smiled immediately. “Good decision.” Meanwhile, across the city, on the top floor of Kingston Global, a tall man dressed in black sat behind a polished wooden desk. Adrian Kingston. Sharp features, cold dark eyes, and an overwhelming presence that made the entire room feel tense in his silence alone. His fingers tapped steadily against the file resting on his desk while his gaze remained fixed on the photograph attached to the front cover. “Mr. Kingston, the Reeds have responded,” said Nathan Cole, Adrian’s longtime executive assistant. “She accepted?” Adrian asked coldly. “Yes.” Adrian leaned back slightly in his chair and reached for the glass of whiskey resting beside the file. Selena Reed. An ordinary woman with a quiet background. No social influence, no scandals, nothing particularly remarkable.

Madeline Crawford gave Jeremy Whitman everything. Twelve years of love, loyalty, and quiet devotion, and he repaid her with a prison sentence she did not earn. She watched him fall in love with another woman through the cold glass of a window she was visiting. She swallowed her tears every single night in a six-by-eight cell. She learned, slowly and painfully, how to rebuild herself from nothing. Five years later, she walks back through Havenport's gilded doors not as the broken girl Jeremy once discarded, but as a woman the city will not soon forget. She has money now. Connections. A plan. And a rage so cold and precise it could cut glass. She is going to ruin every single person who helped put her there, starting with Jeremy Whitman himself. But then something goes wrong. Jeremy stops being the enemy she remembers. He becomes something far more dangerous: a man who is sorry. A man who is fighting for her. A man who, in front of the entire city, drops to his knees and kisses her feet and says, 'Madeline, I was wrong to love another. From now on, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.' And Madeline looks down at him and feels nothing she expected to feel. She says, 'I will only forgive you if you die.' What she does not say is this: she is not sure she means it anymore.

Drina Federico was born with nothing and lost everything too early. Her parents were murdered, her home burned, and the truth was hidden by money and power. Weak, poor, and invisible, she grows up surviving on scraps in the shadows of Madrid, carrying only pain and a quiet hunger for payback. Dino Fazio is everything Drina is not. A cruel billionaire. A man who rules the city from behind polished glass and blood-soaked deals. To the world, he is invincible. In truth, he is the king of a criminal kingdom built on silence and sacrifice. When Drina steals information meant to expose him, she is caught and pulled into his world. Instead of killing her, Dino cages her. Sure, she is a threat. She is broken, frightened, and powerless, but she refuses to kneel. Trapped together, hatred turns sharp, tension turns dangerous, and the line between enemy and obsession starts to blur. As gang wars erupt and secrets surface, Drina learns the truth: Dino did not kill her parents, but his power made their deaths possible. Revenge becomes a choice, not a dream. Escape is no longer enough. Power is. Forced to choose between destroying Dino or standing beside him to burn the kingdom from within, Drina must decide who she will become. A victim who runs, or a woman who rises. In a world where love is born from violence, and trust is paid for in blood, can two broken souls find redemption or will power destroy them both?