Jerk Chat Novels & Stories

It was about time because my dad got a new girlfriend and said he wanted us to have a meal together to introduce the new woman into our lives. On the day we met, my college roommate saw my chat background, which had a photo of me and my dad, along with a series of transfer records. She lost her mind. She enlisted the support of our other roommates, who rarely paid me any attention and began to attack me, insisting that I was a side chick who deserved to die. I did not expect that my roommate would soon become my stepmom. Before I could explain, she accused me of trying to seduce my dad behind her back, shouting, "Shameless side chick! Going behind my back to seduce my boyfriend! All those times you said you were out studying?! Who knows if you were just meeting up with him?" I was once physically assaulted, stripped of my dignity, and forced to the restaurant for a public confrontation wearing ragged clothes. Then my dad came running to where I was hardly breathing and barely moving on the floor, bruised to the extreme. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?!”

My husband, Fabian Hunt, is a neurologist. To spend the rest of his life with his colleague, Yelena Walker, he's been working day and night in the lab for the last three months. Finally, he succeeds in developing an experimental drug that can erase memories. I happen to see his tablet one day. He forgets to log out of his account, so I go through his chat history. Yelena: "Fabe, when can we finally be together without hiding?" Fabian: "Darling, just wait a little longer. Once I switch Anya's vitamin pills for the experimental drug, she'll lose her memory. After that, she'll ask for a divorce herself, and I won't have to take any blame." In an instant, I feel a chill run down my spine. So, he's willing to erase my memories of our time together just to get me to leave him. Since that's the case, I'll give the adulterous pair what they want. But when I start to forget one anniversary after another, Fabian asks me in a panic, "Anya, how can you forget everything about me?"

The first time I met Alessio Russo I was eighteen. He’d barged into my room. I yelled. He yelled. We argued. I slammed the door into the jerk’s face. Then I discovered that the drool-worthy prick was my best friend’s oldest brother -- who had connections to Cassio King and the mafia. The freaking mafia! The second time I saw him was at his mother’s funeral. He didn’t seem to recognize me. Or so I thought until we ended up tangled up between the sheets and he referred to our first encounter. The next time we saw each other was at his father’s funeral - the funeral of the very same man that had threatened my life. It turned out Alessio Russo was a gentleman even when he was a savage. We bickered. We kissed. We fought. We made love. He thrilled me and scared me. Still, we slowly started to find a way to each other but before I had a chance to come clean with him, I had to leave the country. Then all hell broke loose.

Crushes can be exciting, but mine turned into heartbreak when Damien, the Alpha's playboy son, brutally rejected me as his mate after a passionate one-night stand. Years later, fate throws us back together in an unexpected twist. Now, he's on the hunt for a bride and heir to secure his legacy—and guess what? I end up as his chief maid, secretly harboring the truth of our hidden baby that he doesn't even know exists. But here's the real kicker: he doesn't remember me, the woman he once heartlessly turned away. And to make matters worse, he wants to claim me as his bride. Now, I'm thrust into the Luna Games, a high-stakes deal where I must spend 31 nights in his bed, under his roof, while he decides on the perfect match. Can I resist the temptation to spill the truth on our past? Will I forgive the jerk who once shattered my heart? As sparks reignite and long-lost emotions surface, secrets must stay hidden, including the baby he knows nothing about.

For seven months, billionaire heir Donovan Knight has been obsessed with one woman: Scarlet Rose, the mysterious dancer who performs at the city's most exclusive club. He's offered her champagne, his penthouse, enough money to buy the entire venue, she won't even look at him twice. Then one night, riding home from a performance, Harper Monroe crashes her bicycle directly into him. Donovan takes one look at her oversized glasses, frizzy wig, and unfortunate mole, and tells her brutally that she's not his type. Harper, who is actually Scarlet Rose in disguise, tells him he's an arrogant jerk and rides away. Days later, their meddling mothers arrange a marriage between them. Donovan is horrified. Of all the women in the city, he's being forced to marry the plain, boring girl who insulted him. Harper is equally disgusted, she's being pushed into marriage with the shallow playboy who's been harassing her alter ego for months. They agree to a marriage in name only. Separate lives. Separate bedrooms. No emotions involved.

Book 1 of The Badboys' Series Shelly Anderson is an average student enduring a normal high-school life. Max Jackson is known as the most mysterious player and bad boy at school. She likes going unnoticed at school and does not like to be the talk of everyone. He is one of the popular guys and does not care about what others think. She likes her own free time, reading her books and spending it on Netflix and she prefers to be alone in a quiet space instead of feeling alone in a crowd. He is often seen hanging out with his two friends, Connor McAllister, the playboy of the school and Alex Maynard, the friendly one among these three but also a jerk to others. She is antisocial and a loser, well, nerd to others as she gets straight A's. He is a rich spoilt brat and gets whatever he wishes to have by hook or by crook. Dancing and reading books is her passion. Racing and fighting is his obsession. What happens when Max becomes her new neighbour? With them clashing again and again, will Shelly be able to cope with him? Will he be able to make her his without telling her about his dangerous secrets?

On the third day of my business trip out of state, someone new joined the group chat formed for my son's class. It had been quiet for weeks when she suddenly sent a voice message. I tapped it, and an unfamiliar woman's voice played through my phone. "Hello, everyone. I'm the new language teacher at the school, and I'm also Tony Gardner's mother. Looking forward to getting to know you all!" My whole body went cold. I opened the group member list and checked it over and over. My son's name was Tony Gardner, and she said she was Tony Gardner's mother. Then, who the hell was I? I immediately called my husband. "Did someone get added to the parent group by mistake?" He paused on the other end before he laughed it off like it was nothing. "Oh, probably just a mix-up. The school has so many kids. It's not unusual for kids to have the same names. What's the matter? Did something happen?" I kept my voice light and told him everything was fine. The second I hung up, I booked the next flight home and headed straight to my son's school.

Someone suddenly tags me in a parents' group chat. "Hey Madison, I notice that the lunch boxes you've prepared for your daughter have a nice variety and rich in nutrients. Why don't you prepare the same thing for my son starting from tomorrow onward? "I'm not going to leech off you. In fact, I'll pay you ten dollars per day. When it stacks up, you'll earn quite a lot per month." As I stare at the messages on the screen, I find the situation rather ridiculous. My daughter, Sophie Reed, is extremely picky, not to mention she has food allergies. All of the ingredients of her meals are flown in from their places of origin. That means one meal's net price is more than 500 dollars. Yet now, someone intends to use ten dollars just for me to replicate the same meal for them? I reply right away in the group chat, "No way." Unexpectedly, the next day, Sophie is in tears when she returns from the kindergarten. She tells me that her lunch box has gotten snatched by a fellow classmate. On top of that, the teacher scolds her for being selfish as well. Fine. Since those shameless people intend to take advantage of me, don't blame me for being ruthless at all.

“That video in the group chat was filmed in your bridal suite, wasn’t it?” one of the women asked with a grin. “Sleeping around right under Adela’s nose? That’s bold.” Lorenzo leaned back, swirling his drink, looking pleased with himself. “Yes.” “I used to be too sick to do half the things I wanted,” he said, tapping his chest. “After the transplant, I realized spending the rest of my life with only one lover would be a waste.” The room erupted. He let them laugh, then added, “I set myself a goal. One hundred places before the wedding. Once it’s over, I’ll settle down. After that, my body and my marriage belong to Adela.” More laughter. More glasses raised. I stood outside the door with one hand pressed hard against my chest, where an artificial heart kept beating. Lorenzo never knew I had learned his language. He also never knew that I had already discovered he was keeping Vera—our wedding’s mistress of ceremonies—behind my back. And because he had hidden something from me, I had hidden something from him. I had already booked an assisted death service overseas.

My father was hospitalized with a fractured bone. He needed someone to look after him. My wife, Alma, who was also a doctor, said she had to attend the Lancet conference abroad. She claimed it was an event she could not miss. While I was caring for my father, my younger brother, Jack, forwarded a short video to me. “Clyde, you need to look at this video of Alma.” In the video, Alma, who always took great care of her hands, was assembling parts on an assembly line at an electronics factory. I looked up info on who uploaded the photo. It was Tobias Zidel, a male nurse from her department. He captioned the video: [From the operating table to my assembly line. A true woman of all trades!] I resisted the urge to confront her. Instead, I forwarded the video to the department’s group chat. [I wonder how much Dr. Ashford earns per day working at Mr. Zidel’s family factory?] The group chat instantly exploded with messages. The video spread across the entire hospital. Alma bombarded me with frantic phone calls. She demanded that I retract the message. “Come with a written apology on Monday. You will apologize to Mr. Zidel publicly during the meeting!” I hung up decisively. Then, I scheduled an appointment to file for divorce. I did not want a wife like this.