Im Sorry Jon Novels & Stories

"Come here." His tone was extremely gentle, as if I was his most precious treasure. He tightened his grip and rubbed against my waist with one of his big hands affectionately.The heat seeping through my clothes set my body on fire."Don't resist,” he ordered as he kissed me.I closed my eyes, kissing him back, wanting more."Say you choose me…" he whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine.I couldn’t help but tremble in desire.However, all I could do in response was push him away.“I’m sorry, but I can’t…”***Ever since Mia was born, misfortune haunted her. Nothing worked out in her life. She was desperate for a way out when two powerful and unbelievably gorgeous alphas saved her from her misery. Since then, handsome men kept popping up around her, and her problems had vanished one by one.However, was this really a dream come true, or just the beginning of a more sinister nightmare?***Mia's Five Alphas is created by A.B Elwin, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

An employee blasted me on TikTok, accusing me of not approving her wedding leave. Ainsley Castillo ranted, "Our marriage rates are low; birth rates are low. It's all because of toxic capitalists like you! You won't even approve my wedding leave. In your eyes, am I just a workhorse? Not even a person? I believed your nonsense about building an all-women company and a women-friendly workplace. Now your true bloodsucking capitalist face is showing!" The video blew up instantly, and countless young people empathized with her hardcore. They piled on online, cursing me, even doxxing me and sending razor blades. As the boss, I went live and confronted her head-on. "Sorry, but I can't approve her wedding leave. She can quit and go through labor arbitration, or sue me, but her wedding leave is out of the question." The live stream exploded in views that day. Among the supporters for her, some claimed to be lawyers, offering to sue me pro bono. But Ainsley looked troubled. "I just want my wedding leave. I never thought about quitting, let alone suing her."

On the eve of our wedding, Mabel Jones' first love, Carter Hayes, has shredded my custom-ordered suit that's worth a million dollars. The waistband of my pants has torn open, causing the pants to fall off my body. As such, I endhttps://gn.activitycms.com/hwyc-admin/bookManager/book/edit?bookId=31001354896# up humiliating myself in front of the wedding guests. Carter is still holding a pair of scissors as he looks at me innocently. "I'm so sorry, Aiden. I must have ruined your pants because I used a little more force than needed. You won't blame me for what happened, right?" Mabel rushes over and snatches the scissors away from Carter. She tells him, "Why should Aiden blame you? You offered to cut the loose thread out of the kindness of your heart. If anything, he's to be blamed for tearing the pants from how fat he is!" As I continue to lift the pants, I just watch Mabel and Carter interact with each other in a lovey-dovey manner. Now that my suit is ruined, it's time for me to wake up from my fantasy.

William Albert is a man who is always the subject of ridicule in his wife's family just because he is considered to be from a poor family. Audrey, William's wife and owner of the Wilco Company after his father died, is the only heir to the company and always insults William despite being her husband. Their marriage was due to the wishes of his father who liked William's very good behavior and felt sorry for William because he was an orphan from both his adoptive parents who had died. William Albert has been Audrey's father's personal chauffeur for five years. Until one day, an old man named Johannes came to see him and confessed that he was an errand boy from his biological father who was still alive. Johannes admitted that he had been looking for him for nine years from the kidnapping incident in the past that caused William to be separated from his parents until William was cared for by a simple family because he was found on the side of the road. Johannes also said that William was the sole heir to the Albert Company. The largest textile company in the city.

After being secretly married for three years, Holly Sinclair's husband suddenly asks for a divorce. She hides the pain and leaves after taking the money he gives her. From that day on, her life goes uphill. She restores precious masterpieces and determines their authenticity. The world of vintage pieces is her oyster.After the divorce, a certain ex-husband is filled with regret when he sees Holly on TV, showing off her skills. He turns into her loyal fan and chases her around the world. "I'll give you my heart and soul, babe. Please, come back to me."Holly says, "Sorry, but I'm busy. I have too much to do!"Later, she meets the man who saved her when she was younger. On the day of her wedding, she receives some horrible news. She leaves her groom at the altar and mourns her ex-husband's supposed death. Pain is all she feels.Then, her ex-husband suddenly shows up, wounded but alive, and gets on one knee before her while holding out a diamond ring. "Let's remarry, babe!"

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."

"Every time we make love, I make Sera turn around. From behind, she looks the most like Luna ." My hand froze on the door handle. Through the small glass window, I stared at the face of the man I had loved for three years. He had only ever seen me as a substitute for someone else. In that moment, I felt something inside me shatter. I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I didn't burst through the door and demand an explanation. I just turned around and walked back downstairs. My legs felt strange, as if they belonged to someone else. I called Professor Lumiere and accepted her invitation to go abroad. My voice was steady. She couldn't tell that I was dying inside. Later, when Felix chased me all the way to Europe and stood in front of me with red-rimmed eyes, telling me he truly loved me— I gently pushed his hand away. "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't love you anymore."

Eight months into my pregnancy, my husband finally makes time from his police duties to go to a prenatal checkup with me for the first time. The moment we step into the hospital, his satellite-encrypted phone buzzes urgently. The caller ID flashes briefly, and just like that, the man who's always calm and collected panics. "Honey, it's a red alert. Another international fugitive just crossed the border. I… I'm sorry…" He's clearly anxious, yet his tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. After apologizing, he rushes off. As I watch his SUV speed out of sight, my fist clenches tightly, crumpling the prenatal checkup sheet. I flag down a cab, slide into the car, and swiftly instruct the driver, "Follow that car. Don't lose it." A Red Notice for a fugitive? What a joke. My father, who works at the National Security Agency, barely catches wind of a notice like that. Yet, somehow, a mere police chief who only assists with cases is suddenly tasked with catching a high-priority criminal. Fine, then. I can't wait to meet the superior who's given him such an urgent assignment.

“Breathe,” I muttered to myself as I walked down the aisle, bouquet in hand, scanning the few people seated, people I barely knew, but the groom was nowhere in sight. Panic set in. My heart skipped a beat. Was I about to be ditched on my wedding day? I could already picture what the headline would be : Daughter of Late CEO of Nova White Robotics Abandoned at the Altar. Not only would I be disgraced, but my chances of taking over the company would slip away, and my enemies? Well, they would dance and jubilate. Just as I was about give up, I heard the sound of hasty footsteps. The crowd turned and gasped in shock as Mason appeared, looking dashing in a sharp three-piece crisp suit. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. “Sorry, I’m late. My suit didn’t arrive on time,” he said with an apologetic smile. I nodded and the priest began reading the vows, he turned to me and asked, "Will you take Mr. Mason Anderson as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and protect?" I tried to speak, but the words stuck in my throat. I just stood there, lost in confusion, unsure if this was the right choice.