How Old Is Sofia The First Novels & Stories

I had everything planned a month in advance for our holiday. I was going to take my wife and daughter on a trip to see the country's beautiful landscapes, but just before we were supposed to leave, they both disappeared. I ended up standing alone in the pouring rain, trying to call them. My daughter's voice came through over the phone—it was cold and impatient. "Mommy's having dinner with Uncle Skyler. We don't want to go anymore." Right after that, the call was cut off. I had been blocked. They locked me out of the house on purpose and left me to freeze out there all night. The rain had already drenched me, and I was running a high fever that turned into pneumonia. Meanwhile, the two of them were off enjoying a vacation with Skyler Shire. That was the moment I knew—this marriage was well and truly over.

Ember never meant to make a king. She was just trying to survive her heat without embarrassing herself in front of the massive, infuriatingly calm wolf living in the loft next door. Ember has spent most of her life keeping people at a distance. She’s stubborn, private, and perfectly happy suffering through things alone—including the inconvenient attraction she’s been pretending not to feel toward Ghost. Ghost notices everything. He notices when Ember skips meals. When she hasn’t slept. When she’s pretending she doesn’t need help. Calm, steady, and impossible to shake, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t push—but also doesn’t leave. Which becomes a problem when a violent storm destroys half of Ember’s apartment and Ghost is the one who drags her out of the wreckage. Suddenly the fiercely independent she-wolf who hates relying on anyone is stuck living next door to the one man she’s been trying not to want. Then Ember’s heat hits. What starts as proximity and stubborn attraction turns into something neither of them expected when their bond snaps fully into place—awakening a long-buried bloodline Ember never knew she carried. For generations, wolves like her were known as Kingmakers—rare mates capable of exposing corruption and keeping pack leadership honest. Twenty years ago, someone tried to wipe them out. Now Ember’s power has awakened. And the quiet city she and Ghost call home—long governed by careful politics instead of true pack leadership—is about to change. Because Ghost never wanted to be an Alpha. But Ember’s bloodline has a habit of exposing exactly the kind of wolf who should be. And Ember might have just made a king.

At our high school reunion, my ex announced he was getting married. In the middle of the congratulations, someone piped up. “Hey, where’s Wren tonight? She didn’t show?” The whole room cracked up. “Wren? Probably still earning her keep in some rich guy’s bed.” “She dumped James for money, and now look at him. He’s the wealthiest guy in New York. Bet she’s kicking herself.” Someone snickered. “I heard the guy’s some fat old man. God, how does she even stomach it.” I broke up with James Thorne the year he loved me the most, and walked straight into the arms of another man, a man with money. Now he had a new girlfriend, he’d taken over Thorne Capital, and he was one of New York’s most talked-about young executives. He’d organized this reunion because he couldn’t wait to show off how good his life had turned out. “Enough. Drop it.” In the middle of the laughter, James spoke up. “I have a better life now. Whether Wren is dead or alive has nothing to do with me anymore.” “What if she really were dead?” The room went silent.

I was attending a mafia family wedding with my boyfriend when the bride tossed her bouquet, and it landed right in my arms. According to tradition, everyone in attendance was supposed to bless the lucky person who caught it. So, naturally, I looked over at my boyfriend, Matteo, thinking this was the moment he might finally propose to me. Instead, the groom let out an awkward cough. “Serena, Matteo and I already agreed beforehand that this bouquet is supposed to go to Livia. It’s really not right for you to just snatch it away like that.” Before I could even explain, Matteo stepped out from the crowd. His brows were furrowed, and he glared at me with pure annoyance. “Serena, I told you I have to make things up to Livia one hundred times. This bouquet is only the fifty-eighth time. Just give the flowers back to her and stop making things difficult for me.” It was Livia. Again. Years ago, when the two of them broke up after a massive fight, Livia ended up getting into a terrible car accident on a rainy night. Ever since then, Matteo convinced himself that he owed her for the rest of his life and claimed he had to make it up to her one hundred times. So, when she said she was afraid of the dark, he abandoned me at my apartment in the middle of the night just to be with her. When she said she loved roses, he took her up in a helicopter just to shower the sky with rose petals for her. Meanwhile, if I ever showed that I was upset, I was just being petty and unreasonable. In the past, I used to kick up a ruckus and cry about it. I even threw out a lunch he had personally cooked for Livia straight into the trash, and I smashed a birthday gift that he had meticulously picked out for her. Because of that, all of his family members and friends now looked down on me. They thought I was nothing but a toxic, dramatic shrew who didn’t deserve Matteo at all. To them, he and Livia were the ones who truly belonged together. Now, the entire crowd was staring at me, completely on edge. They were expecting me to throw another massive scene right here at the wedding, but this time, I didn’t. Instead, I just smiled, held out the bouquet, and handed it right over to Livia. "Here you go." Those flowers were filthy anyway, and I didn’t want them anymore. As for Matteo? I didn’t want him anymore, either.

At the medical summit, my husband's precious first love thought the old professor's clothes were too shabby for such a grand occasion. So she dropped his conference badge into the trash. The old man shook with fury and threatened to pull his company's partnership with us on the spot. In my last life, I slapped her across the face right there, then bowed and scraped until the professor forgave us, and that was the only thing that saved our company. My husband, meanwhile, was heartbroken that his darling had been hit, and took her home to comfort her. Later, our company rode the professor's patented miracle drug all the way to its IPO. On the day of the celebration, indecent videos made with my face swapped via AI rolled continuously across the giant screen. And in front of a hall full of sneering guests, my husband pulled his first love tight against his chest. "You love slapping people in public, don't you? Today you get to taste what it feels like to be finished." I ran out of the hotel, sick with shame, and a runaway truck flattened me into the pavement. Then he turned around, threw the wedding of the century for his golden girl, and drove my parents into the street to die alone in the cold. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact second she tossed that badge into the trash. This time, I didn't fly into a rage to stop her. Instead I curled my arm sweetly through my husband's and laughed louder than anyone in the room. "Babe, Tiffany's got such a sharp eye. Security should've thrown this ragged beggar out ages ago."

When the criminal tortured me to death, I was three-month pregnant. But my husband Mark - the city's most prominent detective - was at the hospital with his first love Emma, accompanying her for her medical checkup. Three days ago, he demanded me to donate my kidney to Emma. When I refused, telling him I was two months pregnant with our child, his eyes had turned cold. "Stop lying," he had snarled. "You're just being selfish, trying to let Emma die." He pulled over on the dark highway. "Get out," he ordered. "Walk home since you're so heartless. " I stood there in the darkness and was kidnapped by the vengeful criminal, whom Mark had once imprisoned. He cut out my tongue. With cruel satisfaction, he used my phone to call my husband. Mark's response was brief and cold: "Whatever it is, Emma's medical checkup is more important! She needs me right now." The criminal let out a dark chuckle. "Well, well... Seems like the great detective values his ex's life more than his current wife's." When Mark arrived at the crime scene hours later, he was horrified by the brutality inflicted on the corpse. He angrily condemned the murderer for treating a pregnant woman so cruelly But he didn't recognize that the mutilated body before him was his own wife - me.

My wife, Jana Webster, uses her work at the company as an excuse to skip out on Leah Haynes, our daughter's field day. She even tells us not to participate in the activity. Having noticed how disappointed Leah looks, I decide to take her to the field day myself. As soon as we walk into the school, I spot Jana sitting on the couch located on the stage with her first love, Barton Ritter, as well as his son, Trenton Ritter. They look so close, as though they were an actual family of three. With a microphone in her hand, Jana goes on and on about how she's capable of keeping her family happy while maintaining a successful career. As she speaks, she smiles at Barton from time to time. The audience beneath the stage applauds heartily, giving Jana an ego boost. Even Trenton wears a haughty look. Soon, it's time for the Q&A session. I quickly snatch the microphone over. "Ms. Webster, since when do you have a son? Does your husband know about it?"

On the day I discovered I was pregnant, my husband's first love—who also happened to be my half-sister—returned.

It was a national holiday and we decided to drive back to my husband's hometown to spend the holidays. One day before we left, my husband's childhood crush came crying to him that she had not managed to buy train tickets home. My husband immediately decided to let her have my seat in the car and insisted that I take the train instead. I looked at him in disbelief. There was shock in my eyes. Even my son insisted I take the train. "Mommy, Aunt Rosie is so pretty. How could you make her take the train?" I did not argue. I booked my train ticket right in front of them. However, it was to my own hometown. I no longer wanted a biased husband and a disloyal son.

My fiancé's first love was taking photos on a cliff before the landslide. To save her, he actually left me behind on the crumbling edge. I pleaded with him to save me. "Lucy isn't physically strong—she can't handle this alone. You've always been resilient. I'll get Lucy to safety first, then come back for you." Their silhouettes vanished over the ridge. After a brief commotion, everything went silent. Including me, with my freshly sprained ankle. When he saw the news of my death, he completely fell apart.