Interactive Shrinking Story Novels & Stories

The day before New Year's, my younger brother announced he was bringing his girlfriend home for dinner. Excited, I drove my new car to pick them up, taking my daughter along with me. However, as soon as his girlfriend got in the car, her face darkened. "Henry, you didn't tell me your sister was staying at your place—and with a kid!" she snapped. I frowned and was about to explain when my brother quickly interjected, "She's not staying. After dropping us off, she'll be heading to a hotel." Only then did his girlfriend's expression ease. I swallowed my discomfort and asked my brother what he was planning. He leaned in with a conspiratorial grin and said, "Sis, don't cause any trouble for me, okay? My girlfriend is the daughter of the Cromwell Group's CEO!" My eyes widened in shock. Was not the Cromwell Group the same company my ex-husband had just handed over to me as part of our divorce settlement?

I'm an heiress who's been bound to a gossip system. Everyone reads my mind on my first day back home after being reunited with my family. "Mom sure has done a good job of maintaining her beauty. It's no wonder she became an OnlyFans streamer after divorcing Dad." My mother is about to berate me for something, but she pales and stops when she hears my thoughts. I glance at the fake heiress, who's weeping pitifully. "My, she's pregnant. Is it John's or Zach's?" My two brothers exchange odd looks. Then, my father arrives. I cluck my tongue. "Oh, it's Dad's."

The new project was short on staff. Over everyone's objections, I pulled three former colleagues out of an overlooked department where they'd been warming the bench for years. The four of us became the project's core team. The bonus was generous, the workload light. They all said I was their lucky charm. Three months later, with delivery just around the corner, I passed the break room and overheard them talking. "The biggest credit for this project belongs to the three of us. Why should Chloe get an equal share of the bonus just because she recommended us? She barely did any real work." "Exactly. Let's talk to the director. We'll say all the core work was done by us, that she's not up to the task. We'll apply to have her removed from the contributors list." "Just thinking about not having to split those tens of thousands with her—it feels amazing." I pushed the door open. They stared at me, stunned. I smiled. They wanted to kick me out? Too bad. I was the director who parachuted in to evaluate them.

Calvin and I had been married for seven years. While packing up some clothes, I found a cheap lighter in the pocket of his jacket. Everything he wore, from the inside out, had been carefully chosen by me to highlight his refined taste and status. However, in that girl’s Twitter photos, he looked like a college boy, dressed in cheap clothes and wearing a digital watch that cost only a few dollars while kissing her. Using a throwaway account, I casually liked the post and commented, "A perfect match." Then, I turned to Calvin and said, "How did I never realize you had such a thing for bargains?"

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

While waiting for my husband to pick me up at the parking lot, I came across a trending topic in my city. "How do I deal with an overly-clingy wife?" Amidst a flurry of boastful, lovey-dovey comments, one female username caught my attention. "Just pretend to be incompetent! My childhood friend was forced to marry someone he didn’t love. I gave him the idea to pretend to be directionally-challenged, which he has done for five years now. "When his wife got pregnant, he secretly mixed lubricant into the shower gel, causing her to slip. Then, on the way to the hospital, he pretended to get lost. He deliberately circled the suburbs several times, which led to her miscarriage and now she can't have children anymore." "Coincidentally, today is supposed to be the selection day for her promotion to professor. He offered to drive her to work, but he actually plans to pretend to get lost to make her late so that I can get promoted instead. "When she fails the selection, he’ll use that as a chance to convince her to quit her job, turn her into a useless housewife, and then kick her out!" Reading this suspiciously familiar experience sent a chill down my spine. Before I could ponder further, I heard my husband’s apologetic voice. "Sorry, honey, I got lost. I hope this won't affect your selection."

My younger sister, Rosalind Thorne, stole nine boyfriends from me in a row. I was too terrified to ever fall in love again until Nikolai Volkov proposed to me. He doted on me as if I were a rare treasure. I truly believed I had finally found the one. I thought I was destined to become his Donna, living a life of peace and security by his side. On the eve of our wedding, Nikolai sent Rosalind abroad. Four years into our marriage, I crossed paths with Rosalind at a banquet. A guest smirked. “Nikolai sent you overseas to rot for four years. Don’t you hate him?” Rosalind offered a provocative smile. “He’s the father of my two children. Why would I hate him?” The room suddenly fell deathly silent. “My elder sister is so stupidly naive, believing Nikolai actually despises me!” She sneered, wearing a look of disdain. “The truth is I’ve borne his heirs, lived in his estate, driven his supercars, and spent his money.” As she finished, every single gaze in the room snapped toward me. As Nikolai Volkov’s lawful wife, I knew nothing about what she said. But, I didn’t cry and cause a scene. I simply tapped ‘send’ on the email I had drafted long ago. The reply came swiftly. [You are more than welcome to join my medical team. I’ve been waiting for you.] Staring at the reply, a genuine smile slowly returned to my lips. Nikolai Volkov, from this moment on, you no longer need to pretend to love me.

Avery never believed rejection could be undone. When her mate publicly denied the bond, she accepted the shame, the silence, and the quiet shrinking of her place in the pack. What she didn’t expect was to carry his pup afterward. The pack healer’s confirmation changes everything. A rejected mate can still conceive, but the pack will not protect her from the man who cast her aside. He holds no rank, no title, and no right over her, yet his proximity is enough to threaten her future and her unborn child. Refusing to let him control the narrative or her body, Avery makes a choice no one expects. She leaves her pack without release, crosses territorial boundaries alone, and offers submission to a new pack on her own terms. It is dangerous. Unprecedented. And the only way to keep her pup safe. In a territory where she has no standing and no allies, Avery must navigate pack politics, suspicion, and the unspoken weight of carrying a rejected mate’s child. But for the first time, every decision is hers.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

I had returned from overseas to attend my foster son's wedding, already wearing my dress for the evening. My former high school classmates recognized me and pointed at me, laughing wildly. They tore my dress off me without hesitation. Ruby Saunders apologized to me, but it was all an act. She looked at me with malevolence. She had instigated her lackeys to strip me in public. When I tried to retaliate, she slapped me so hard that I fell to the ground. I closed my eyes and laughed coldly as I saw the cruel excitement on her face. She used to imitate me and accuse me of copying her, but I always endured it. However, today was my last straw. I would not allow her to marry into my family and turn me into her mother-in-law, no matter what!