Good Reads Novelas e Histórias

My younger sister, Camilla Voss, and I were unexpectedly transported into a cursed world of werewolves. The Moon Goddess gave us a choice to decide our fate. Option One: become an Alpha Female, wielding power strong enough to destroy the heavens and earth, but cursed with a grotesque, bloated body. Option Two: become a Moon Blessed—physically weak, yet blessed with breathtaking beauty and extraordinary fertility. In my past life, Camilla chose to become the Alpha Female while I became the Moon Blessed. The pack shunned Camilla for her crude appearance, while I relied on my intelligence and reproductive gift to support three Alpha King's heirs born without wolf spirits, helping them reclaim their thrones. Consumed by jealousy, Camilla went mad. While I was in labor, she poisoned me with silver. With my last breath, I dragged her down with me. When I opened my eyes again, we were back at the moment of choice. This time, Camilla seized the Moon Blessed identity before I could. "Seraphina, the throne of the Luna Queen is mine this time. As for those three worthless cripples who can't even maintain their wolf forms, I’ll generously leave them to you." I forced down the wild surge of joy in my chest. What was so good about becoming breeding stock for three twisted monsters? She had no idea—on this land where only the strong survive, absolute power is the only thing that crushes everything else.

As I was watching a movie in the cinema, a rude child kept kicking the back of my seat. He even took off his shoe and extended his foot next to my face. I turned around and chastised him to take his seat, but he stabbed me in my neck with a sharp needle. Feeling the pain, I reached out and wiped the blood from my neck. His mother chuckled. “It’s fine, he’s just fooling around with my sewing needle. It’s just a harmless jab. It’s not like it has poison on it. Be a good sport about it.” I threw the popcorn bucket onto the floor and aimed my phone’s flashlight at the rude child. I roared, “The child’s holding a discarded needle that was used on an AIDS patient in the hospital! There’s an AIDs patient’s blood on it!”

A week before the wedding, my fiancé, Luke Graham, announced that he needed to marry his first love, Mandy Lynch, before marrying me. “It’s because her mother passed away,” he explained, “and her dying wish was to see Mandy married to a good man. I’m just fulfilling an elder’s final request. Don’t overthink it.” But the company had already planned to launch the “True Love” jewelry line on the day of our grand wedding. Impatiently, he dismissed my concerns: “It’s just a few million. Does that compare to Mandy’s love for her mother? If you’re so eager to make those millions, go find someone else to marry.” Hearing his cold and heartless words, I understood everything. Without another word, I turned and dialled my family. “Brother, help me find a new groom.”

I enjoyed playing scratch-off tickets. I felt restless if I did not scratch one for a single day. After becoming familiar with the shop owner, I always scratched first and paid later. One day, the scratch-off ticket I took revealed a million-dollar prize. The shop attendant, Chloe Byrne, snatched the ticket from my hand. “You never paid for this scratch-off ticket! Taking it without asking makes you a thief! But look, I’m in a good mood right now, so I can’t be bothered to argue with you. Just get out of here.” Her straight-up robbery act nearly made me laugh. “I scratched this ticket! You saw the big prize and decided to claim it as your own. That makes you the real thief.” Chloe was shameless and would not back down. “I don’t care who’s a thief or not. This ticket is mine, and nobody’s taking it from me!” Seeing her like that, I made a call. “Lucky Mart on Spring Street has been stealing customers’ winning tickets and refusing to pay. Revoke their license effective today.”

My best friend, Sienna Monroe, who always swears she'll never marry, goes with me to the fertility clinic and suddenly snatches away the donor profile I choose. That's when I know she has come back to life too. In my previous life, I wanted a mixed-race baby, so I chose the IVF route. Sienna mocked me, saying I'd just be raising someone else's child. But two weeks later, I was taken to the royal palace of Valoria. It turned out the donor I picked was none other than the Prince of Valoria, a man of eight national lineages. He not only insisted on marrying me as his princess but also promised that our child would inherit the throne. The baby and I were cherished by the entire royal family, so much so that the jewels they draped over me nearly bent my back. Meanwhile, Sienna flaunted her extreme feminist stance and offended business partners. In the end, she was fired and blacklisted across the industry. Sienna spent all her savings on a plane ticket to attend my party, where I would introduce my baby to everyone. But when I went to welcome her, she crushed my son to death in her hands and splashed concentrated acid on me. "You don't deserve such good fortune! You worthless witch!" But when I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day I asked her to go with me to the fertility clinic.

I got into a car accident on my way to celebrate my daughter, Anna Chapman's birthday. When I wake up, I stare at my family, who has my bed surrounded. Then, I decide to crack a joke. "Sorry, but who are you people?" I do my best to suppress my smile as I look forward to how my family will comfort me now that I'm "amnesiac". Will my dad and my wife hold my hands out of heartbreak? Or will Anna rush over to hug me while crying for me? What I don't expect is that my family actually heaves sighs of relief after their initial shock. My dad is the first one to speak up, his tone tinged with relief. "It's a good thing that you've forgotten about your past. The truth is, you're the adopted son of the Gray family. Calvin is the actual heir of the Grays." My wife, Yvonne Stewart, points at me while telling Anna, "You should address him as Uncle Damian." Before I can recover from my shock, I see Anna, who I've risked my life to protect, run into Calvin Gray, the fake heir's arms. "Daddy, I was out having fun the whole day! Oh, I've missed you so much!" It turns out that my family wants nothing more than for me to lose my memories. In that case, I might as well abandon everything that's fake in my life.

My wife, Heather Conner, secretly steals the funds I've saved up for our daughter, Naomi Hartman's surgery. After that, she books a high-class hotel for Jared Winters, the low-income student she has been sponsoring, just so she can celebrate his birthday with him. When I find out about it, I demand that Heather return all the money to me. But she slaps me immediately and blames me and Naomi for causing her trouble on purpose. "This is the first birthday Jared and I are celebrating together! Since it's such a big day, it's only natural that I hold it in a grand and lavish manner! "Instead, you two insist on undergoing that stupid surgery just when I've booked the hotel instead of scheduling it at any other time! You really are vile! "I've already inquired with the doctor about the surgery. Turns out it's completely optional! I might as well put the money to good use by giving Jared an unforgettable birthday instead of having you waste it on a useless surgery! "Even if Naomi does end up dying, that means she's fated to die anyway! You can't blame anyone for her death!" Heather just abandons Naomi, who's still fighting for her life. She then drives Jared to the hotel, where they spend the night watching a beautiful fireworks display. With 12 critical notices issued by the doctor in my hand, I kneel before Monica Brown, the richest woman in the city. "I'm willing to marry into your family as long as you pay me 35 thousand dollars' worth of wedding gifts!"

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

My contract with the company is about to come to an end, and I'm already planning to renew it. But a few days before that, my boss, Dustin Kline, requested that I lower the percentage of my bonus in the project. The reason he gave is that I'm still young. Even if I were to take over other projects, I'd also do a good job. Dustin even made empty promises to me just so he could get me to give the projects I'm in charge of to Sandy Richmond, the new department manager in the company. When I refused to do so, he threatened to not give me my salary in order to get me to comply. The next day, the company is reduced to a laughing stock at the product launch event. Our client thinks the company's technological skills are too weak to back up the big talk, so they refuse to pay the remainder of the contracted sum. When Dustin begs me for help, I just look at him in amusement. "I refuse to get manipulated by anyone in this workplace. You're more than capable of dealing with your own problems. I believe in you, Mr. Kline."

My daughter, Tina, locked herself in her room, crying so hard her body shook. I pried the door open and saw that she was clutching a test paper that was torn to shreds and pieced back together. It was a math Olympiad selection test. She should have gotten a perfect score, but was given a score of zero instead. "Mom," she sobbed, "the teacher said 3x5 is not equal to 5x3; that it's taking shortcuts. She tore my paper up in front of everyone, revoked my eligibility for the competition, and told the whole class not to talk to me…" I looked at the deep red scratch marks on my daughter's wrist and immediately picked up the phone to call the principal. "What good does it do for your school's reputation to drive a kid who loves math to their breaking point?"