Romans & histoires I Got A Cheat Skill In Another World Light Novel

On the 20th of May, Stella Jewell posted a new update of her status on social media: Single, Free to Mingle. PS: Priorities for physically healthy individuals. The accompanying image was a divorce certificate. This surge of actions from Stella was just like she was in the past when she had married into the Kane family without warning. This news caused carnage within her circle of friends. Right after her breakup, she implied that her ex-husband, Keegan Kane, was sterile. Did she have a death wish for doing so? Who is Keegan Kane? A ruthless person that could sue the media company, that had made rumors, until they were bankrupt. Would he tolerate his ex-wife, who left the marriage with nothing, to connote him in such a way? In the end, after twenty minutes, everyone had their jaws dropped again. Under Stella's new account, the newly registered account commented, "Let me out of the blacklist!"

"Ahhh!" A wild moan slipped from my lips as Alpha Ace rubbed himself between my thighs. His military uniform only added to his charm. "Baby, you're my wife. Please step away from him," my loser alpha pleaded from behind the locked fence. "Your wife?" Alpha Rome asked with a smirk as he approached. Stopping beside me, he slid a hand beneath my shirt and gently cupped my breast. My breath caught in my throat. "You threw her away for her sister and left her to face a zombie alone. You have no right to question her loyalty," Rome snarled, pinching my nipple. "Baby, please. Give me one more chance. I was wrong to leave you behind." My ex-husband sounded pathetic as he begged. Before I could answer, two more Alphas arrived, desires burning in their eyes. "There is no going back to a loser like you. The Moon Goddess gifted me four Alpha mates in uniform," I replied with a smirk. Then I did what I had started my journey for. "I, Luna Fallon, accept your rejection."

Seven years into our marriage, Zane Grimes and I remained childless. He once held me close, his voice tender and earnest. "Don't overthink it. I've never cared for children. You're all I want in this life." But on the day his company went public, as the ceremonial bell echoed through the hall, the doors burst open. My sister stormed in, cradling a wailing infant. "Zane, this is your son! How can you abandon us?" Zane's face paled as he turned to me, his eyes brimming with panic and a silent plea. Unbeknownst to him, I had long known about his betrayal and the child.

I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.

My Alpha was gravely wounded in a battle with a rival pack. But I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t even flustered. I let him go, three thousand kilometers away, to be healed. Because in my past life, Damien got himself injured on purpose, all to give his healer mistress, Isla, a shot at glory. Worried sick about him, I forced our pack’s healers to treat him instead. But Isla lost her one shot at fame. Without it, she couldn't secure her place in any pack and eventually killed herself. Damien's life was saved, but he blamed me for her death. He poisoned me, leaving me to die in agony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right before Damien got hurt.

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”

“My Sweet Miranda" He whispered, causing her to glare at him and his sneaky hands that danced around her body, setting it aflame. The burning in between her legs heightened as her eyes met his gaze that boiled with desire. "Let Me Go Darren" Miranda warned, ignoring the pool of water that was starting to swim down her legs. She wanted him as much as he did but the bitterness of his betrayal and actions caused tears to escape her eyes. "Let me Go now!" she ordered once more pulling a lust drunken Darren back to reality. He had messed her up and Winning her back was going to take more than their burning desires. Book Two: Never Let Go, Alpha So many questions unanswered and a close enemy lurking in the shadows, Miranda and Darren are pulled again once again from their dream of a happy ever after as an unfortunate event strikes. Darren had chased her and the enemy had pulled them close, it’s left to Miranda to fight for Darren as their memories fade from his subconscious. Will their live finally prevail or would we be left once again in the dark of what games fate plays?

Held Light, Held Close follows Celeste Bradbury, a quiet, disciplined young woman who arrives in New York to work with the world-famous band Luminous Riot. Raised in the hush of convent halls and foster homes, Celeste has learned to survive by moving gently, listening closely, and building her life out of small, steadfast rituals. But the music world is loud, chaotic, and unkind—especially under the sharp eye of Paul Logan, the band’s volatile lead singer who meets her composure with relentless mockery. As weeks turn into months, Celeste maintains her quiet routines, her faith, and her dignity despite the storm around her. She becomes a still point in the band’s restless orbit—an anchor none of them expected, and a mirror that reveals what each member is running from. Through rehearsals, touring, backstage politics, deadlines, and private battles the world never sees, Celeste’s presence begins to shape the group in ways that defy explanation. The House She Built is a story of chosen family, slow-burn transformation, unspoken tenderness, and the quiet power of a woman who refuses to break—even when the world demands it. It is about the sanctuary we build within ourselves, and the imperfect people we let inside.

On the day I receive my Distinguished Service Medal, I also receive word that my grandma has passed away. My superior grants me special leave to return to my hometown to mourn her death, so I rush to my ancestral home at once. But when I reach the ancestral graveyard behind the hill, I witness something that makes my blood boil. The graves of my deceased family members have been razed to the ground. Even my parents' graves have been brutally dug up. Their urns are now placed under flower pots filled with blooming red roses. Grandma's coffin has been pried open as well.Her body now lies strewn on the ground and has started to rot. I also see Lucy Stewart, my autistic younger sister. Melissa Abbott, my wife's assistant, orders Lucy around like a maid, forcing her to move heavy construction materials around. Enraged, I grab Melissa by the throat and throw her to the ground. "How dare you destroy my family's ancestral cemetery and make my sister do hard labor! Do you want to end up buried here too?" Melissa coughs up blood before crawling back onto her feet, her expression vicious and scornful. "I'm simply carrying out Ms. Fuller's instructions. She says that your ancestral cemetery is located in a good spot. It's also the perfect size to be turned into a private horse ranch and a garden for her future husband. "Ms. Fuller calls the shots here in Joverton City. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?" Resisting the urge to put an end to her life, I call up Eva Fuller, my wife. "I heard you call the shots here in Joverton City. Well, I shall put that to the test today!"

The third time my fiancé, Jeffrey Lewis, shoves me into a horde of zombies, I stop struggling as I do for the first two times. Alison Sheppard leans against his chest with a pale face. "Jeff, I overused my powers just now. My blood sugar's low, and I'm craving some chocolate. I think the bag we had fell into the zombie horde." Without even looking back, Jeffrey raises a hand and pushes me forward. "Go get it, Juliet. Your protective shield ability keeps the zombies from noticing you anyway. You won't get hurt." My brother, Lucas Cox, looks at me anxiously and urges, "Why are you stalling? Hurry up! Alison is our savior. You should be willing to die for her!" The other survivors all nod in agreement. "How expected of a piece of trash. This is the only thing she's good for. Go pick it up already. Don't keep Ms. Sheppard waiting for her snack." As I listen to their cruel words, I feel my blood run cold. What they don't know is that I'm the one bound to the Savior System. For the past three years, the protective shield around this base has existed only because I exchange the Fondness points I've earned for it. And just moments ago, the system tells me something. [Host's Fondness points have dropped to zero. The protective shield will soon fail. Erasure countdown initiated!]