Greedy Reads Novels & Stories

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.

What can a woman possibly do in a society governed by men? What can a mere hija do stand out and be recognized as more than just as her husband’s wife or as her son’s mother? What more can woman become other than the shadow behind a man’s success. All her life, Alessandra wanted nothing more than to become the best grandchildren to her parents, the best child, the best student, the most beautiful and the most talented. She has exerted all her effort to continuously furnish herself to become a worthy heir for the family. She is articulate, eloquent, a magnum opus for a daughter. However, all of her achievements were never seen as an accomplishment to her relatives, but rather a threat to the success to the young male bloods in her family whom they have already placed their bets upon. For years, she was groomed the become just the second best to her brothers and cousins. To become no better than any man in the family. To just be the best among the rest of the girls, but never that of men. Being the young child that she is, she has become easily corrupted by the misogynistic and patriarchal ideas. She has succumbed to the suffocating standards set by her family, in the hopes that there will a place for her in the end. But to her surprise, she was later on married to the greedy and merciless rich version of a garbage creep – Carlos Montemayor. As she continuously spirals down into internal misogyny, misandry and selfish liberalism, can she find still find her way towards genuine empowerment and feminism? Would she be able to bring justice upon herself and the others, or will she instead become the person she hates the most?

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

The things we want are so very rarely the things we need. Clifton Heights, a modest Adirondack town, offers many unique attractions. Arcane Delights sells both paperbacks and hard-to-find limited editions. The Skylark Diner serves the best home-cooked meals around, with friendly service and a smile. Every August, Mr. Jingo’s County Fair visits, to the delight of children and adults. In essence, Clifton Heights is the quintessential small American town. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone is treated like family. It is quiet, simple, and peaceful. But shadows linger here. Flitting in dark corners, from the corner of the eye. If you walk down Main Street after dark, the slight scrape of shoes on asphalt whispers you're not alone, but when you look over your shoulder, no one is there. The moon shines high and bright in the night sky, but instead of throwing light, it only seems to make the shadows lengthen. Children disappear. Teens run away. Hunters get lost in the woods with frightening regularity. Husbands go mad, and wives vanish in the dead of night. And still, when the sun rises in the morning, you are greeted by townspeople with warm waves and friendly smiles, and the shivers pass as everything seems fresh and new... Until night falls once more. Handy's Pawn and Thrift sits several blocks down from Arcane Delights. Like any thrift store, its wares range from the mundane to the bizarre. By daylight, it seems just another slice of small town Americana. But in its window hangs a sign which reads: We Have Things You Need. And when a lonely traveling salesman comes looking for something he desperately wants, after normal visiting hours, after night has fallen, he will face a harsh truth among the shelves of Handy’s Pawn and Thrift: the things we want are rarely the things we need. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

I've just received a text from my CEO wife, Cara Lavigne. Apparently, she's gone on another last-minute business trip again, so she can't accompany me to the funeral home. But soon, I see Cara's silhouette being captured in a photo, where she celebrates her assistant, Warren Stone's birthday with him in a work-related post he has just uploaded. The caption reads, "Thank you for the amazing cake, boss! I feel so happy to be able to celebrate my birthday!" I just smile calmly before leaving a like and a comment. "Happy birthday." My colleagues, on the other hand, start betting pools like mad to see what kind of tricks I'm going to pull this time in order to kick up a ruckus. Cara calls me immediately just to scold me. "Warren is just celebrating his birthday, so what's with the comment? He's a very sensitive person, you know! How is he going to survive in this company now that you've passive-aggressively humiliated him in that public post? "It's been barely two years since Warren joined this company, not to mention he doesn't have any friends! What's wrong with me celebrating his birthday with him, huh? People like you, who are born with silver spoons in their mouths, will never understand Warren's plight! "I want you to delete your comment right now! We'll talk more about this once I'm home! Your dad is already dead anyway, so you can just wait for a few more days before claiming his body!" I can only clench my fists tightly as I listen to Cara's heartless and nonchalant words. "No need for that." Once she is back, the divorce procedures will be done.

Zara grew up in a remote village, believing she was just a poor girl with a hardworking mother and a dream to become a lawyer. She never knew that her father was the founder of Falcon Enterprises, a multi-billion dollar empire, or that he died under mysterious circumstances when she was only two. For sixteen years, her mother has lived in a shadow of terror, hiding in poverty because of a deadly threat from Zara’s "kind" Uncle Rahim: “If you ever tell her the truth, she won’t live to see her eighteenth birthday.” Now, Zara has finally made it to the city for higher education, supported by the very man who stole her legacy. But when Uncle Rahim cruelly cuts off her tuition, Zara is forced to take a job as a waitress at the city’s most elite restaurant to survive. Aryan Knight is the youngest, most ruthless CEO in the country—cold, powerful, and bored of the greedy women in his world. When he sees Zara being humiliated by an arrogant socialite at his dinner table, something in his frozen heart stirs. He doesn't just see a waitress; he sees a girl with the eyes of a lioness. A fated encounter leads Zara to save Aryan’s beloved grandmother, pulling her into the inner circle of the Knight family. As Aryan falls for the innocent girl from the village, he begins to uncover the dark secrets of her past. Can Aryan protect the girl he loves from her own blood? Or will the truth about the stolen empire lead to a deadly confrontation?

Antonio Rivera finally finds out that I haven't asked him for money in a week. For once, he sends me a text message to compliment me. "Darling, you've finally learned how to become a good Donna. I've had my men deliver this week's worth of miracle drugs to your mother's ward. As long as you remain docile and don't be greedy, I'll give you anything you want." What he doesn't know is that I'm printing out a divorce agreement when I receive his message while wearing an old dress from three years ago. No one will believe that I, the Donna of the Rivera family, have to ask Antonio's Consigliere, Elena Gallo, for money even when I need to buy myself some tampons. Hell, I have to apply for a leave request three days in advance if I wish to leave my home. Antonio keeps telling me that he's doing this to protect me. "It's too dangerous outside, sweetheart. All you have to do is stay at home like a good girl you are." But one week ago, Mom's illness took a turn for the worse. I begged Elena to skip the request and let me out of the villa. Elena, however, dragged out my request for seven long days. Only when Mom died did she finally permit me to leave. Miracle drugs? My mom is already dead. I'm no longer tolerating anyone or anything anymore.

Her husband killed her for her inheritance. Reborn three years before her death, she refuses to be the obedient, "useless" wife she once was. For three years, Ahtisa lived as a submissive wife to Adrian Vale, enduring his coldness and his mother's bitter humiliations. She gave up her career as a police officer and her identity just to support his ambitions. But on the night of their anniversary, the illusion shattered. She caught Adrian in a hotel room with Isabella the very girl Ahtisa had saved from the streets. Instead of showing remorse, Adrian struck her down, leaving her to bleed out on the floor while they gloated over stealing her late father’s forty-billion-dollar fortune. As her vision faded, only one man arrived to save her: Lucien Blackwell, the ruthless billionaire she had once personally arrested because of her husband's lies. With her last breath, she vowed to make them pay. Waking up three years in the past, the docile wife is gone. Back in the interrogation room on the day of her greatest mistake, Ahtisa refuses to arrest Lucien. Instead, she offers him a dangerous pact: Power for revenge. When Adrian arrives at the reading of her father's will, expecting her to blindly sign over her fortune, Ahtisa tears the contract to pieces in front of his greedy eyes. "I won't be transferring a single dime. And I am filing for divorce." Adrian begs for a second chance. But she is already untouchable with the city's most feared man guarding her from the shadows.

Betrayed by the two people she loved most, her fiancé and her stepsister, Ella loses everything. Desperate and broken, she chooses death. But fate has other plans. Rescued against her will, Ella wakes up to a nightmare: her greedy foster parents have forced her into marriage with a crippled, disfigured man, Elion Copper. A man the world believes to be poor and unwanted. But Elion is no ordinary man. He is, in truth, the ruthless billionaire bachelor every woman in town secretly desires. Tired of fake love and gold-diggers, Elion hides behind a mask of scars and poverty to test if any woman can love him without his wealth. He is certain no one will ever agree, until Ella. To Elion, Ella’s acceptance feels like mockery. He believes she chose him willingly, and his pride turns into fury. Out of spite, he decides to "sell" her as a servant in his billionaire identity, without revealing that both men are one and the same. Now, Ella finds herself under the mercy of the cold and arrogant real Elion Copper, a man who humiliates her, torments her, and makes her question why life saved her at all. But the deeper the pain, the deeper the truth, the crippled husband, and the cruel master are one. When Ella finally discovers his secret, her world shatters again. Will she forgive the man who broke her beyond repair, or will she walk away even when he is ready to burn the world just to keep her by his side?

Throughout my five-year marriage with Irene Anderson, I never celebrated my birthday. That was because my birthday also was the death anniversary of her childhood friend’s mother, so she had to accompany Zac Reid, her childhood friend, to the cemetery to visit her. Not only that, but she also did not allow me to celebrate my birthday. She did not even allow me to smile. “Please be more considerate towards Zac. He’s very vulnerable on his mother’s death anniversary. Once he feels better, we’ll celebrate your birthday.” Every time my friends asked me carefully if they could celebrate my birthday, I could only force a smile and say, “Forget about it. Let’s do it next time.” It happened year after year, but she never fulfilled her promise. One year, Irene dressed in all black again and prepared herself to attend the memorial. Coincidentally, she saw the birthday cake that my family had specially ordered for me. She instantly grew angry and smashed the cake onto the floor. “You can eat cake at any time; why did you have to choose today? Are you that greedy?” I left the mess behind in the house and secretly followed behind her. In the cemetery, I saw her claiming herself as Zac’s wife and his mother’s daughter-in-law, and I felt exhausted. I walked over and took off my wedding ring. “Irene, let’s get a divorce.”