Good Books To Read Online

Camilla is a decent girl by the books — The greatest bad thing she did was burn her own home. The other complication in her life is a secret that includes Dylan Emerton. What's absurd is that Camilla is compelled to move into Dylan's house, the alternative is being homeless. Being this close to him is futile. Camilla thinks back to her past. His touch. The pain that ensued. But Dylan doesn't. Not even in the slightest. How long will it take before their past traps them? And of what good is the undeniable attraction to each other.

The owner of a small company gives me an expensive bag as a gift because I want to invest in his company, yet his wife mistakes me for a homewrecker. She and her entourage crash my engagement party and trash the place. "All homewreckers need to go to hell!" "Shameless women will always be shameless. Strip her so everyone online can see what she looks like!" "Share the livestream and like it, everyone! We'll disfigure her once we hit 500 thousand likes!" Not only does my fiancé refuse to help, but he even announces that the engagement is off. "A homewrecker doesn't deserve to marry me!" I repeatedly warn them not to act rashly, but they ignore me. So, I give them each a swift punch to the gut before stepping on the perpetrator's face. Then, I call my secretary. "Tell Mr. Lane that I'm pulling out of the investment. Also, call the police and my lawyer. I've been robbed and insulted in public—I want the culprits to go to jail for this!" My fiancé regrets everything and asks me for a reconciliation, but I kick him aside. "Get lost! I'm not dumpster!"

I've just returned from the world's biggest tech summit when my mentor, who's like a father to me, calls. He tells me he's arranged for me to marry his close friend's son, Jonathan Ford. Jonathan is one of Javron's rising stars. A few of my patents are licensed to his company, and they form the core technology of his new product. I work late to wrap up everything in the lab. Then, I dress up and head to the engagement ceremony. Unexpectedly, I'm stopped at the door by Jonathan's secretary, Linda Jones. She wears a lavish gown and looks more like the bride than I do. "Turn around and scram if you know what's good for you," she says with a sneer. "You're just an orphan from the countryside—think twice about whether you're worthy of our CEO." I ask, "Does Jonathan know you're making decisions for him like this?" She lets out a contemptuous laugh. "You're nothing but a pretty face who needs to ride on her mentor's reputation to get married. How can you possibly understand the weight I carry in Mr. Ford's heart?" A blush spreads across her face as she speaks. I study her for a few seconds, then call Jonathan. "If your idea of courtesy is leaving your fiancee standing outside the venue, then here's how I'll repay the favor. I'll let you read the contract and watch as I sell my patents to your competitor. How does that sound?"

On the day I decide to quit the game, multiple comments suddenly streak across my vision. "Great news! The female supporting lead is finally quitting the game!" "Stacy no longer has to worry about getting exposed for using the supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Stacy is really smart! Every time she uses the supporting leads account, she always uses the in-game voice chat function! That supporting lead has no idea that Stacy has been doing this behind her back!" "Wow, Stacy really is blessed to have reeled in such amazing men!" "I can't believe she used the female supporting lead's max-level account to flirt with four of the best players on the server!" "At 2:00 pm later, she'll be meeting her first target, Lewis Johnes, the cold and aloof campus heartthrob, at Riche Cafe!' "Tomorrow, Stacy will be meeting the best assassin in person. The day after that, she'll meet the rich scion who's also ranked second on the list! She really is amazing with her time management skills!" The "Stacy" that the comments mention is Stacy White, my roommate. She actually impersonated me to flirt with four top-tier players on the server, huh? More comments streak across my vision once again. "Why isn't Heather leaving right now? Lewis is already waiting for Stacy!" "This is their first sweet date as a couple! Oh gosh, I can't wait to see it unfold!" I turn to look at Stacy, who's touching up her makeup in front of the vanity mirror. Only then do I understand that I'm the female supporting lead the comments are talking about. A small smile appears on my face. Since Stacy is impersonating me to become a Casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend those meetings and reap the reverse harem she has prepared for me, right?

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

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.

I worked at a sales job and felt pretty good about my work. Then, Vivian appeared. She was a new intern with an insatiable curiosity for others’ private affairs. On Valentine’s Day, my husband, Henry Ambrose, bought a million dollars’ worth of bags from me to help me meet my sales target. Just as I left work to meet him for a date, Vivian sent a snide message. [Your Fitbit just logged an extra thousand steps. That’s literally the exact distance to the hotel next door. Nice work, Lily! You close a million-dollar deal and immediately head to the hotel with the client?] I coldly fired back, [If you’re this desperate to stalk people, you should’ve just joined the K-9 unit.] That very night, parcels of adult toys appeared on my doorstep. Vivian had written a nasty post that had gone viral, and things turned out like this! [This Salesgirl Slept With My Client and Stole My Million-Dollar Commission on Valentine’s Day!] A pair of my ripped silk stockings, which I had tossed in the trash, became her “proof” that I had seduced a client during work hours. Vivian was painted as the victim, while I was viciously smeared as a “salesgirl who slept with clients for commissions.” What Vivian did not know was that Henry was actually a leading researcher worth billions. I only took the sales job because I was bored and wanted to experience something new.

My older sister, Marissa Lipton, found out that I had been dating someone online. She immediately exposed the matter to our parents. Little did they realize that the person I'd been dating was actually Xander Lorne, the heir to one of the most prestigious families in Belhorn. Since then, my parents treated me a lot better than before. I successfully married into the Lorne family, too. As for Marissa, she was forced to marry the man my parents had originally picked out for me, who was infamous for being a domestic abuser. Her life had been filled with pain and beatings since then. I, on the other hand, lived a lavish and extremely comfortable life. As a high-society wife, I was also admired and envied by all. So, Marissa decided to run me over with her car. When I wake up again, I see Marissa secretly jotting down my online partner's contact number. That's how I find out she has gotten reborn as well. Haughtily, Marissa declares that she will rise to the ranks of the elite and crush me under her heel in this life. What she doesn't know is that the "elite heir" from the previous life is a gift I've painstakingly prepared for her.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

My nephew, Jason, came to live with my family for three years while he went to high school in the city. I took care of him the best I could, never once thinking it was a burden. The day he got accepted into a top-ranked university, he went live online. He told thousands of strangers about his miserable life living under someone else's roof. "I know I shouldn't say this, but I really suffered through it. "Those days of depending on others… I never want to think about them ever again. "I just want all parents to know this. No matter how poor you are, keep your kids with you. Even eating scraps together is better than watching another family of three enjoy a feast while you sit alone in the corner." He became an overnight sensation, so did I. The people on the internet dug up everything about me. My name, my job, my address. I was doxxed. I died depressed from the online bullying. However, I somehow got to do it all over again. This time, I was not going to be the saint anymore.