Good Evil I Reject Them Both Novels & Stories

They called her a Cheater. But Camille Laurent was the one who caught her husband in another woman’s arms. The night she found Marcus her husband with his mistress, she thought the truth would destroy them. Instead, it destroyed her. By morning, the scandal had a new story. Photos surfaced and headlines exploded. Camille was accused of having an affair with Adrian Steele. The husband of the Mistress her husband cheated on her with. One of the richest billionaires in Valmont. Marcus filed for a divorce during the scandal. While their spouses burned down their marriages, Camille and Adrian formed a dangerous alliance. What Valmont doesn’t know is that Camille left pregnant with twins. She isn’t just a discarded wife, she’s a long lost heiress.

After finishing work for the day, I checked my phone and realized I had been added to a group chat called "Catch the Thief." The members were my parents, my brother, Brian Wise, and my sister-in-law, Paulene Wise. I typed a question mark. Paulene replied instantly. [My jewelry is missing. I didn't add you here to accuse you or anything. I just wanted to ask what you think. Honestly, there's no use for other people in our family to take my jewelry, so I've been wondering... I'm not saying you definitely stole it. But if you did, you don't have to deny it. I'm willing to give you a chance to make things right.] My mother said nothing. She just kept tagging me over and over. I let out a small laugh and typed back. [Maybe Brian took it and gave it to his side piece. I'm not saying he definitely has someone else. Just that men his age sometimes start looking around. I'm only guessing here. And if he really did mess up, you could give him a chance to make things right, too.]

Reborn after a tragic death, billionaire heiress Vivienne rejects the chauffeur’s leech of a son to reclaim her throne. With a secret alpha CEO by her side, she executes a cold, cinematic revenge.

I had funded Tilly Jenkins for five years—and spent those same five years chasing after her. Just when I thought I had finally won her heart—when I believed she was ready to spend her life with me—I discovered the truth: the one she had loved all along was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who had grown up by her side. I, on the other hand, to her, was nothing more than a privileged elite who used money to grind her pride into the dirt. A few years into our marriage, she secretly transferred my assets away—and even had a child with that childhood sweetheart of hers. In the end, I died filled with resentment, trapped in a raging fire. The flames reflected the sight of the three of them together, smiling like a perfect family, while I cried myself to death in despair. After I was reborn, Tilly's childhood sweetheart shoved me hard, sneering with open contempt. "What do you take us for? Toys for rich people like you?!" I slipped my bank card back into my pocket at once. "Sorry, having money doesn't mean I'm brain-dead. I'm not interested in trashy toys like that."

The person I don't wanna see again was really Infront of me. "Dave?" I asked. "Yes Amber it's me, so glad you didn't forget my name" He said. How could I forget the person who broke me. "You need to sleep a little longer" Dave said to me. And I saw him injected something on me and it makes me slept again. The moment I wake up I saw Dave staring at me. "Hey, are you watching me while I'm sleeping?" I asked. "Yeah, you love it when I watched you sleeping" he answered. The heck he didn't forget those little things that I loved him doing. "Why did you drink too much alcohol I told you before that your body reacts bad on this activity right, look at you now you are here at the hospital instead of enjoying your bridal shower" He still a good man I know, he still the one who's got so angry when I drunk too much alcohol.

With Valentine’s Day approaching, my husband, Edwin Welles, finally freed up his schedule and agreed to spend the holiday with me. I joked that he must be the busiest man in the world. After all, the acting chairman had no time for the actual chairman. However, as soon as we entered the cinema, his phone rang. With just a single glance at the screen, a trace of panic appeared on his normally composed face. “Honey, a serious problem has come up with the tech project. I have to go back and deal with it.” I watched him walk out through the ticket checkpoint. The surrounding noise of the crowd made my chest feel tight. All of the company’s tech projects utilized my father’s patents. He was the dean of the top research institute and the company’s chairman, yet he had not received any news of a problem. What could Edwin, a research novice, possibly need to go back to handle? I opened the phone tracker app and followed him. I would just have to see for myself what this “serious problem” really was!

My boyfriend, Victor Pearson, was ranked number one in the world in horror games. Meanwhile, I was secretly working part-time as a monster NPC inside one of those dungeons. Every dungeon he cleared was SSS rank, whereas the one I worked in was the beginner level. We were never supposed to run into each other… until he nearly wiped out all the monsters in an SSS dungeon. The system pulled me in at the last second as emergency backup. When I tried to scare players with my awful acting, the live chat tore me apart. [Hahaha, since when did the monsters in this dungeon get so cowardly? She’s supposed to scare us, but we actually scared her instead.] [This is next-level dumb. Getting lost in a dungeon is embarrassing. Is this monster here for comic relief?] [Poor thing. She'd better hide. Anyone else might let her go, but if she runs into Big V, she's dead before she knows it.] [Come on. Big V only hunts the nastiest bosses. He wouldn’t even bother with trash like that. She would probably scare herself to death first.] I did everything I could to avoid Victor, to keep him from realizing I was the monster working there. But somehow, I stumbled right into him anyway. The chat exploded, waiting for my instant death. After all, he was a legend on the leaderboards, a god among players. But instead of killing me, he bent down and gently pinched my cheek. "Hey, babe. How many players do you wanna take out? I'll help you." The people in the chat lost their minds. [What the hell?!]

My husband had a heart attack on his way to work and died. All I could see was his body when I rushed to the hospital. I was heartbroken and bedridden. When I was about to die, I saw on the news that he won a lottery ticket worth 300 million dollars. My bestie cashed the prize money with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when my husband faked his death. But I wanted to make his death real this time! “Are you from the funeral home? My husband is dead. We need to plan a cremation for him right away!”

I was about to get married, but my boyfriend of nine years had no idea. Why? All because his recently divorced ex-girlfriend waltzed back into town, and he threw himself into her life without hesitation. The knight in shining armor was back, ready to save the day. The moment they saw each other, it was like a scene from a bad romance novel. Their gazes lingered, sparks flying, the kind that screamed, “Oh, we’re soulmates reunited.” To welcome her back, he had 9,999 Juliet roses flown in to decorate her room. Why? All because it was a promise he had made to her long ago. How sweet. Except for one small problem: I’m severely allergic to pollen. When I woke up in the hospital after an emergency rescue, I didn’t cry, yell, or demand answers. No, I pulled out my phone and texted my parents, "Please help me arrange a marriage. I’m done."

Seavora City, Carmoria. Nathan Ziegler's side chick, Sophie, was melting down—again. He shoved the divorce papers at me. "Just sign. It's for show. Gotta keep her calm." I clutched my dress, gave a small nod, and signed. No fuss. No scene. As I turned to leave, one of his buddies snorted, "Joelle's way too obedient. Bet she'd fetch the divorce decree if you asked." Nathan lit a cigarette, smirking. "Wanna bet?" To them, I was still the silent pushover. The girl who'd cry in court but still do what she's told. Trade one paper for another—marriage for divorce. I stared at my phone. The message I'd received earlier: [Why don't you just marry me?] I typed back: [Okay.]