Handsome Male Tiefling Novels & Stories

Flynn Watson, the actual heir of the Watson family, reported me for cheating during the exams. As I stared at both copies of the test papers with perfect grades and the same answers, I found it difficult to explain what happened. Everyone took Flynn's side. Because of that, I was painted as a cheater, which resulted in my exile from the Watson family. The Watsons went as far as to get me blacklisted from all industries just so they could appease Flynn. I ended up on the streets as a homeless person, where I got tormented incessantly. In a daze, I got hit by a car. I still failed to understand why my test papers would show the same answers as Flynn's even when I was on death's door. When I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn on the day of the exams. This time, I choose to not write anything on the exam papers at all. I'd like to see just how I can be branded as a cheater now that I'm not given any marks at all.

My brother-in-law had a sudden heart attack. The doctor said only my wife could perform the specific surgery he needed. It was a critical situation. By the time I finally managed to get through to her, her childhood sweetheart answered the phone. "We're just about to head out camping," he said casually. "We won't be coming back tonight." My heart sank. "Ryan had a heart attack. He needs surgery immediately. Tell her to come back to the hospital—now." Instead, my wife's irritated voice cut through. "Are you done? How dare you make up a lie like that and curse my brother!" Before I could explain, she hung up. When I tried calling back, her phone was already off. In the end, my brother-in-law died because the window for surgery closed. And my wife lost her mind.

My future daughter-in-law, Chloe Cyrus, knelt on the floor in a deep V-neck lace nightgown, her face flushed with a hint of longing as she looked up at me. "Mr. Edison, let me take good care of you tonight." My eyes fell on the proud, smooth swell exposed at her chest, and I swallowed hard. "This… this isn't appropriate, is it?" The next second, she pressed herself tightly against me and crouched down. My mind went blank with desire…

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

Before the world turned to ice, her family came knocking, ready to negotiate the terms of our marriage. They wanted more than commitment. They wanted three million dollars and three luxury homes. My parents shut them down immediately. It was ridiculous. Then, the storm hit. The blizzard sealed us inside the house. With numbers on their side and no mercy to spare, her family took control of everything. The food. The heat. Our chances. When we fought back, we lost. They dragged us outside and left us in the snow. We froze. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back to before it all began.

Braving a downpour, I delivered a lavish food order, anticipating the hefty commission and a $100 tip. Laughter suddenly echoed from the villa. Someone started, "He really believes your car crash left you paralyzed? He's hustling deliveries to support you and even pawned his dad's heirloom?" Another said, "What if he discovers you're actually a billionaire heiress, just playing poor? He'd probably break down in tears." Jessica Stark toyed with her wine glass. "Guys like him are wired to serve, especially since he always outshone Mark in our school days. This is his comeuppance." I stood in the relentless rain, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. Turned out, her two-year charade of paralysis was merely to avenge her childhood sweetheart. Her broken legs, deceased parents, and helpless tears were all meticulously crafted lies. Disillusioned, I dialed my estranged tycoon mother. "You win. I'll go through with the arranged marriage."

To repay me for saving her life, Tiana Sabell lets me marry into her family. In the eighth year after I marry into the Sabell family with a monetary wedding gift worth billions, her long-lost first love, Hayden Brown, returns with a child. Because of a nightmare he has, he claims my daughter, Sabrina Zeller, is cursed and will bring harm to his son. Tiana locks Sabrina in an abandoned chapel deep in the mountains, forcing her to fast for seven days and nights to purify herself. I kneel before Tiana and beg, "Sabrina has a heart condition. If she does not eat or drink for seven days, she will die!" Tiana focuses only on preparing nutritious meals for Hayden. "She will not die from going hungry for a few days. If she cannot endure even this, how is she fit to be my daughter?" I am locked in the basement for seven days. By the time I find Sabrina, she has already starved to death. I carry her body, which is covered in livor mortis, back home. Holding Hayden in her arms, Tiana kicks me away. "What have you been teaching our daughter? How dare she fake her death to fool me? If you cannot raise our child properly, then I will give her a new father!" I call my sister and say, "Pull the investment. Let Sabell Group go bankrupt!"

"Doctor, hurry up and examine me." Inside the consultation room, a stunning woman was laying face down on the bed. She raised her hips toward me and asked me to examine her condition, but I wasn't a doctor. Just as I was about to refuse, she pulled down her pants to reveal her fair, smooth back. Who could possibly resist that?

At the company's afterparty, my assistant, Charlie Langford, lodges a complaint against me while holding a stack of racy photos. "Ms. Spencer, after you slept with me, you told me that you'd take responsibility for me. Why are you entering a marriage alliance with another family soon? "Who did you take me for? A plaything? Then I might as well jump off this building right now just to prove my innocence!" H-Hey now! The only time I've made private contact with Charlie is when I had my driver, Lorelei Green, give him a ride half a month ago purely out of convenience! How on earth did Charlie warp that encounter into having physical intimacy with me? Moreover, I'm a straight man! Why would I even have that sort of relationship with Charlie, to begin with?