Half Girlfriend Novel Novels & Stories

Elaine Foster loved to test my love for her. She faked a chronic illness and convinced me to donate blood for her 99 times. When it came for the 100th time, I was already severely anemic. I finally said no. She turned around and used the blood I had given her to make blood sausages for Karl Claflin’s dog. Karl was the most popular guy on campus. Curled up in Karl’s arms, she said to me, “Michael Messner, I was never sick. I only pretended to be, just to see if you really loved me. Unfortunately, you failed the final test. I’m very disappointed. We are done.” I smiled indifferently and walked away without looking back. Five years later, we met again at the top hospital in the country. By then, neither Elaine nor Karl knew that they both had malignant gliomas growing in their brains. I had become the only neurosurgeon in the country capable of successfully removing them. When she saw me in plain clothes, wiping vomit off the hospital floor, she had assumed I was a janitor. She sneered, “Michael, you’d really stoop to anything to run into me, wouldn’t you? You even followed me here. It’s time you faced reality. I’m worth millions now, and you are just a janitor. We are worlds apart. Stop embarrassing yourself.” I did not bother answering. At that moment, I was only thinking about which nurse I would need to speak to for slacking off on the job. Luckily, I had just finished surgery and was going home when I spotted the patient in distress. Otherwise, the patient could have been in serious danger.

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

'No matter what, No matter the time, No matter the place, No matter the century, No matter what's to come, I. will always. CHOOSE. YOU'. Everyone saw her as crazy..... But he saw her as nothing less than perfection. ................... "Why?" was the only thing he said. Confused I asked "Why what?" "Why do you always do this to yourself?" the tone in which he spoke almost seemed like he was heartbroken about something. "Do what?" I dared to ask, although I knew already within me I wouldn't like his response. "Conceal your worth" ....................... If you like this small insight of the story then please read on. The only thing I can guarantee you in this story is that it will definitely have an happy ending although for the two characters Rica and Dili to achieve that, they would have too pass through many difficult obstacles on their way to happiness. And trust me this isn't your normal Teenage story that is filled with rainbows and sunshine, there are a lot of gloomy days. If you don't mind that then please by all means do read on. .................. NOTE: This is a pure work of fiction. An original story by me. Buy me coffee? https://ko-fi.com/missrina

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control and power.But when his estranged brother resurfaces through a cryptic call, dragging him into a trail of files, threats, and old betrayals, everything he's built starts to crack. Remy Beckett, a rising star in the culinary world, is no strang to love but one man has him unraveled. A single dinner at Remy’s restaurant ignites an attraction that shakes Callum’s carefully guarded world. He’s never wanted a man before. Never craved the scrape of stubble against his skin or the heat of rough hands pinning him down. But Remy? He’s all Callum can think about. A shadowy attack leaves Remy bleeding in Callum’s arms, and suddenly, this isn’t about desire. It's about survival. Someone wants Remy dead, and Callum’s brother is at the center of it. Now, Callum must confront the ruthless empire he built, the family who betrayed him, and the truth he’s been denying.

Maren ’s ex invites her to his wedding just three months after their breakup, she almost spirals back into depression. Then her best friend who works for the Seattle Icehawks offers her job to date the star Goalie Gideon Patton who happens to be her ex favorite player and which sounds like the perfect revenge plan against her Ex. Pretending to date him is supposed to be payback. But somewhere between staged kisses and stolen glances, the line between pretending and real emotions begins to blurred.

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

Awakening to a bewildering and astonishing reality, Seraphina found herself in an extraordinary situation: she had transmigrated into her own novel, stepping into the shoes of a character she had meticulously crafted. The male lead in her story was notoriously elusive, challenging to approach, and the master of a harem. Seraphina, now Zephyrine Everlynn, unexpectedly found herself among the women in his harem. It was utterly absurd! Promptly leaving the harem, Seraphina used her knowledge to help others win the male lead's heart, all for the right price. But why did the male lead continuously find his way back to her?

On the six-year anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend, Sheila Loom, I buy some groceries with the intention to surprise her with a home-cooked meal. After I'm done, I head over to Sheila's place right away. That's when the reel I was watching automatically skips to the next one. It's a live stream where people call in to discuss legal matters. A familiar feminine voice drifts to my ears at that moment. "My boyfriend shelled out 500 thousand dollars to put me through school. I've already paid ten thousand back to him. "At first, I wanted to clear the debt before breaking up with him, but I don't want to wait any longer. If he insists on taking me to court after the breakup, can I still pay the debt off slowly?" Almost immediately, comments flood into the comments section, chewing her out and calling her a heartless wench. But the voice replies calmly, "If I truly were heartless, I wouldn't have paid him back to begin with. I no longer have feelings for him. Are you saying that I should sacrifice the rest of my life just so I can pay 500 thousand dollars back to him?" My heart skips a beat at that moment. It's true that I've spent 500 thousand dollars putting Sheila through school over the years. But I feel that I'm overthinking it, seeing as she's never brought up the matter of wanting to pay me back before. After I call Sheila repeatedly for half an hour, she finally answers my latest phone call. At the same time, the woman's phone call that's connected to the live stream is cut off. "It's my birthday today, Sheila—" "Have you secretly come looking for me again? Didn't we agree that we'll only meet up after you've successfully gotten into college?" I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the notebook sitting on the corner of Sheila's table. The first page shows "debt repayment ledger". Some of the details are as shown. "The SAT study materials I bought for him: 188 dollars." "The Uber fees I've paid for him: 35 dollars." "The cologne I've gifted him on his birthday: 380 dollars." "Total: ten thousand dollars now paid."

On New Year’s Eve, I was working overtime at a mall. Then, I saw my girlfriend rent out the mall’s largest digital billboard to pressure a poor student into marrying her. I was about to go over and question them when the poor student responded emotionally, “Getting confessed to in my family’s mall is so romantic and meaningful.” “Silly boy. I’ve loved you for five years. Of course, I was going to propose. So, marry me, okay?” Then, they kissed passionately amid a chorus of cheers. They even won the mall’s Best Couple award that night. I smiled bitterly and volunteered to present the award to them. I wanted to see just what would happen when trash found trash.

copyright (Warning this is a dark God and Goddess novel. This is all war and manipulation. It won't be pretty at times and it may make your cringe but every scene has a purpose. You just have to keep reading to find out more) Mazaya(masaya) is the goddess of wisdom and creation she's anything but normal. she's emotionally unstable because She holds too much power. She's the only God that was born with a dark god and light God parent. It was never heard of before her. So that explains why she is the most powerful God in existence. Right? Not really because nothing is as it seems. Gods are manipulating each other left and right to prevent complete control. Things you think you know turn out to be a spell caused to protect the world. The only truth is the what they are living now. The past could be lies and there's only one way to find out the truth, to go along Mazaya's journey. One thing is true though She only has one weakness and when the most powerful Gods find it out they work to exploit it so they can control everything. The person who possesses her rules all. Will Mazaya be a pawn in this war against Gods or will she be able to free herself from some of the most ruthless Gods in existence. It' starts off slow but once you get into it it heats up and gets intense. nothing is as it seems in a world full of the most powerful gods. There will be sex scenes and at times it will seem out of there but this is a world of Dark Gods not weak mortals. And what is the way to ones soul? sex and manipulation.