How Long Is Death Note Novels & Stories

I had a best friend who was sweet as honey but only with her mouth. Behind my back, she was a demon. She stole my boyfriend, the underboss of the Chicago Outfit. Her excuse? She wanted to keep me away from the darkness and the blood, so she'd take the suffering in my place. She pawned her wedding ring and fed her husband some story about a limited edition bag for me. She skimmed from her husband's company accounts and pinned it on my male escort habit. She was pregnant and still wanted thrills. So she went to a full-blown orgy with her husband's uncle and a group of his associates. That's how she ended up hemorrhaging. But somehow it was my fault. I was the one who organized that kind of party, according to her. And her story? She tried to stop me, so I pushed her down and made her lose the baby. In the end, her husband sent me to a cartel hellhole in Mexico to atone for my sins. There, her lover sold me to the red-light district. First came the addiction. Then the streets. I served every man in their outfit, one after another. My body rotted. I died slow, sick, and alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night my best friend miscarried because of her own filthy party.

Serena Hale was never meant to belong in a world of diamonds, monogrammed robes, and dinner parties soaked in judgment. Once a humble bakery girl, she eloped into a whirlwind marriage with billionaire James Hale, trading flour-dusted dreams for gilded heartbreak. Now, Savannah’s back. James’s sophisticated, pregnant ex-fiancée has returned like a ghost wearing pearls, slipping seamlessly into his life, his home, and maybe… his heart. As Savannah moves into their world like she never left, Serena is forced to smile through whispers and cold stares. James’s mother, ice-blooded and brutal, now she’s made her message clear: Serena was the wrong choice. The second choice. And she better not get pregnant again. But it’s already too late. Serena is carrying James’s child again, a fragile, impossible hope tucked beneath her still flat stomach. He says he loves her. He swears he chose her. But he didn’t come home last night. And Serena is no longer sure if James is lying to her… or to himself. As secrets build and the tide turns against her, Serena must decide if love is enough to hold onto a marriage that may have never truly been hers before the truth rips everything apart again. Because this time, it’s not just her heart at stake. She has a baby to think of.

There's an unspoken rule in my household—everyone has to engage in a drinking competition during the holidays. Whoever gets wasted first will have to pay off one year's worth of house and car mortgages for the other two siblings. In the first year, I collapsed after my first glass of alcohol. I had to pay the house mortgage for my oldest sister, Dahlia Zeller. In the second year, as soon as I picked up my glass, I fainted right away. Since then, I had to pay off Jasmine Zeller, my second sister's car loan. For the next 20 years, I've always been the loser. In the end, my wife, Jean McCarthy, is forced to jump off a building because of the huge debt I've racked up. The debtors keep dumping paint onto my residence, forcing me to deter away from it. Ransacked by guilt, I end up damaging my stomach from overdrinking when I attempt to train my alcohol tolerance. As a result, half of my liver has gotten removed. When I'm on the verge of death, I hear my parents snickering outside my ward. "Don't you think we've laced too many sleeping pills in his drink? He almost didn't wake up back then!" "It's fine. He's an idiot who merely thinks he has a low alcohol tolerance. Our family still relies on him for financial survival, you see. We can keep drugging him so that he'll keep getting wasted." When I open my eyes again, I've already gotten reborn in the timeframe when I'm sitting at the dining table in the 20th year.

Blurb: Mia had her life figured out, or so she thought. A stable job, a boyfriend of 4years, and a future that made sense, and was hers. Until one night ruined her entire resolve. The familiar love that was comfortable now seemed dull. A rare storm, an empty office, and a man that wasn’t hers to touch Rafiah, her brother's lover, her boss, he was a man wrapped in power and danger. He was never meant to look at her the way he did that night, but he was drugged, he lost control By Morning he goes stern, pretends like nothing happened, like she never existed But Mia remembers, her body remembered, and the saxophones becomes louder even in their silence Two days later the she says yes to the familiar man, she needed to, no— she had rerouted to to the more comfortable destination But a rival cartel began watching , waiting— And now Mia was caught in the cross fire, she became the weakness of the man who claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, and in his world where loyalty is everything and love is weakness falling for the wrong man might destroy them all.

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.

Married for five years, I'm known as the woman with the perfect husband. Alexander Foster is tall, strong, endlessly passionate, and people love to joke that we can't keep our hands off each other. Then he goes on a mission one day and never returns. I fall apart. I try to end my life six times, and six times someone drags me back. On the night of the sixth attempt, I overhear my mother-in-law, Anna Greyson, whispering to the man everyone believes is Alexander's younger brother, Daniel Foster. "Alexander, how long are you going to keep hiding this? Mia has tried to kill herself six times because of you." Alexander's voice stays calm. "Mom, before Daniel died, he asked me to take care of Lily. She's fragile, and now she's pregnant with my child. If she learns the truth, she won't survive it." And that's when the truth hits me. My husband isn't dead at all. He's been pretending to be his own younger brother and plans to have a child with Lily Harper under that lie. After crying until I can barely stand, I contact Margaret Warren at the matchmaking agency. "About that blind date you mentioned. I'll take it. And I want the wedding as soon as possible."

Ever since I lost my Alpha, Kael, in a brutal fight with some nasty rogues, I've been raising our young son, Finn, all by myself. My old pack has been pushing me to take a new Alpha, you know, so Finn and I would have protection. But I truly believed my Mate Bond with Kael was unbreakable. Then, on the Blood Moon ceremony, the fifth anniversary of Kael's “sacrifice,” I overheard Kael's father, old Alpha Marcus, tearing into Kael's quiet twin brother, Ronan: “Kael! You damn wolf! It was Ronan who went down on Blood Moon Cliff five years ago! He was the cursed one! You faked your death, lived as Ronan, all to protect Alina? You lied to the whole pack, to your sacred mate, and your own flesh and blood! Was it worth it?!” “For five years, Elara has raised Finn from a tiny pup all alone. You gave your so-called 'niece' a fake 'father,' but did you ever think? The day you put on Ronan's mask, Finn lost his real father for good!” I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. After Kael “died,” Ronan had been the dutiful uncle, “looking after” Finn and me. I never dreamed he was Kael in disguise. And he did all this just to protect Alina, Ronan's destined mate, who was already pregnant?! That night, under the bright moon, I snuck away and sent a message to my cousin, the Head Beta of the Silver-Moon Pack: “Tell your Alpha Lucian that I, Elara, accept his courtship offer.”

I hate them weak: the heroine of the story. I was one in mine but never again! I had vowed that until I stumbled upon an annoying book. A chubby weak heroine brutally rejected by her mate, the arrogant Alpha. “If I were that Luna, I would make that Alpha beg on his knees—on and off the ice.” I typed bitterly. But the universe mocked me, it made a”bet” with me and the next morning, I woke up in the webtoon as Avri, the weak heroine. Would I truly be able to bend the arrogant Alpha Killian on his knees? Who would win, the universe or I ? What Ancient secret lies between Alpha Killian and i?

To help my husband, Henry Carter, pay off a million-dollar debt, I clean windows and scrub toilets in an office building on Valentine's Day just for the triple pay. After I'm done with the windows, I am about to transfer the last 50 thousand dollars of the debt when a post suddenly pops up on my phone. The title of the post is, "What is something you see in real life that makes you feel sorry for someone, even if they are your enemy?" One of the top comments says, "The person I hate the most is my boyfriend's wife. My boyfriend pretends to be poor to spend money on me and cheats his wife out of over a million. That woman works day and night at a cleaning company just to make money for me! "This has gone on for eight years. That woman has been scrubbing toilets for eight years! Even if she is my enemy, I feel sorry for her." I freeze, and my fingers tremble uncontrollably. No way. It has to be a coincidence. I stare at those words, stunned and unable to recover from the shock. Then, a new comment appears, "Now, my boyfriend plans to fake an illness by telling his wife that he has cancer. He's going to trick her into giving him money to buy me a car." At that exact moment, Henry sends me a message. The instant I open it, I feel my heart skip a beat. It reads, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sick—I have cancer. The doctor says we need to prepare 80 thousand dollars for treatment. I hate myself for this. Why am I even alive? I'm just dragging you down with me." The words "late-stage liver cancer" in the attached diagnosis report are painful to look at. I think in dismay, "Henry, you do not need to pretend to be sick. You are indeed in the late stage of cancer."

Adonis the king of death had appeared after centuries of years with only one purpose: to strengthen himself. To do this, he has to find himself an angel whose blood will save him. can a mortal save an immortal?