Novel & Cerita John Story

Rebecca Davis never wanted to be anyone’s Luna. Her only dream was to inherit her late mother’s company and build a life far away from her manipulative father, cruel stepmother, and spiteful stepsister. But when her father threatens to take her inheritance unless she marries a disabled Alpha locked in a coma, Rebecca finds herself trapped in a fate she never chose. Burdened by a cursed aura that drives men into obsession, scorned as the outcast of her pack, and betrayed by those closest to her, Rebecca enters the marriage with resentment, until one night, her aura accidentally awakens something long lost. Alpha John, once feared and respected, wakes from his coma, and the life Rebecca thought she despised begins to unravel in ways she never expected. At first, John treats her with cruelty, keeping his ex-lover by his side while casting Rebecca aside. But when enemies close in and she risks everything to protect him, a shocking truth emerges; John is her fated mate. As Rebecca’s bond with him deepens, she rises from a humiliated bride to a powerful partner, earning his love while uncovering the dark secrets behind his past, her cursed aura, and the betrayal that stole her mother’s life.

She will do anything to leave this place. They'll do anything to stay. Daisy Drewmoore had lived a life of luxury and privilege until she was sent away by her father, to the farthest point of the country. That was just the beginning of her troubles. Her life that was once mundane, slightly delusional and bland, had a whole new meaning. She’s thrown into chaos. From her father selling her as repayment of his many secret debts, to the brothers enemies keeping a watchful eye on Daisy. It would never be the same. She searches for an escape. They want the opposite.

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”

The richest woman in all of Jezelworth, Abby Davidson, was determined to marry my brother, Wallace Bourn. Everyone called Abby the "Black Widow", a cold-hearted woman who would do anything to get what she wanted. Anyone who married her was doomed to meet a tragic end. Wallace turned pale with fear, but I pulled him aside and said quietly, "I'll marry her in your place. But you have to stay in the countryside and guard my father's safe under his grave for three years. You can't open it before then." He thought the safe held a massive fortune. Grinning like a fool, he agreed without hesitation. Watching his greedy face, I couldn't help but laugh coldly inside. He'd better be ready for this. I couldn't wait to see if he could manage the "surprise" he'd find inside!

During the holiday season, a flood hits. The company's warehouse is submerged up to the third floor. Due to the emergency, I have my assistant tell everyone to come back a day early to help. I promise that the company will provide stipends and extra time off to make up for this. But on that day, a Gen Z employee goes live across the internet to report me. "Oh, my God. It's 2025, yet there are still companies forcing employees to adjust their time off and work overtime! Is this heartless boss so broke that she needs to exploit us like this? Will she die if she doesn't squeeze us out of every drop of usefulness? Company notices override the law. Impressive stuff, this is!" Soon, the company ends up on the trending list due to criticism from the online community. Even the regulators come knocking to hold us accountable. In the end, the company is forced to cancel the notice. A lot of equipment isn't salvaged in time, resulting in significant losses. The employee even posts a victory lap. "Give the boss a tiny lesson—see if she dares to force overtime again!" I'm so angry that I laugh out loud. I tell my assistant to cancel the annual benefit we give all employees—an entire month of paid time off for Christmas and the New Year holidays. If we have to stick strictly to the law, then fine. Have it your way!

The student I once sponsored, Lillian Pegg, jacked my identity, slapped on the "rich heiress" title, and started tossing out houses and cars like she was some fairy godmother for "underprivileged" students. Her big mission? Making sure everyone had a roof over their head. My in-laws? Wrapped around her finger. They swore up and down she'd saved their lives. Even Liam—my son with my late husband—acted like she was the only mom he'd ever had. Meanwhile, I was puking blood from ulcers, and everyone treated it like a bad improv act. Liam bought every word out of her mouth. Thought she and my husband were some kind of twin-flame couple and labeled me the evil baby snatcher. Fast-forward: I got locked in a bedroom and left to bleed out. Then I woke up. It was the exact day Lillian was playing Santa Claus. The crowd around her practically worshipped her. "You're the kindest boss in the world! You care about our food, clothes, housing, everything. We'll support you and your company forever!" Yeah, not on my watch. I shut down all her privileges right then and there. This time? Lillian and that backstabbing son of mine were gonna eat regret for the rest of their lives.

On my father’s sixtieth birthday, I was overseas, negotiating an energy contract. I deliberately told my wife to throw a huge banquet for him. That day, I watched the mansion’s security footage with a smile. Unexpectedly, I saw my nine adoptive siblings surrounding an unfamiliar old man. That old man wore my dad’s class ring as he happily pulled my wife onto the stage. “Thank you for coming to my birthday banquet. This is my daughter-in-law, the president of the Viapent Group. She’s the absolute best! She spent three million dollars on this banquet! It’s all thanks to my eldest son for finding such a capable wife.” In one corner, my actual father was in tattered clothes, washing dishes with my son. He accidentally splattered some water. One of the guests kicked him in disgust, causing him to cough up blood. The security footage was cut off. How dare these people mistreat my father and son? I called a special number. “I’m putting a stop to the negotiations. My father and son are being abused back home. I am returning to them now.”

On the day my sight returned, our family doctor, Anna Leone, stood right in front of me and mouthed to my husband, Don Marco Vitale, "Double the lubricant tonight. I promise it'll send you straight to heaven, my Don." Marco pressed a gentle kiss to my eyes. Then he turned away and replied with the same silent lip movements, "You little tease. That mouth of yours—and the one below—I'm crazy about them both." The two of them exchanged a knowing smile, convinced their secret was flawless. What they didn't know was that not only had my vision fully recovered—I was also fluent in lip-reading. My gaze drifted to the bottle of lubricant sitting brazenly in the wall cabinet. I said nothing. Instead, I quietly sent a single text message: [Papa, I've decided to come home.] In three days, I would vanish completely. All I would leave behind for them would be the hollowed-out fortune of billions—and that bottle of "lubricant" I had replaced with high-strength industrial superglue.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

“Cassie Vaughn. Failed to crawl into my bed, so you started stealing from my casino?” The giant screen lit up. Every inch of it was covered with my nude photos. “Holy shit. A janitor actually thought she could seduce Lucien Moretti?” “She wanted to climb the ladder so badly she started stealing dirty casino money?” I was shaking with rage. The moment I said, “Those are AI-generated,” the entire room burst into laughter. “You think Lucien Moretti would fake photos for trash like you?” The next second, Lucien slid a phone across the poker table toward me. “Thirty million dollars from my casino.” “How exactly are you planning to pay that back?” But only I knew the truth. Lucien himself had stolen that money. I had simply seen it happen. On the screen, my parents hung from chains inside a warehouse, blood covering their faces. A document titled Organ Valuation Agreement was pushed in front of me. “Sign it.” “Or your parents die.” I fought with everything I had. Still, they dragged me toward the crocodile pit. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back at the poker table. Across from me, the butcher himself lazily rolled casino chips between his fingers. And on the giant screen behind him, my AI-generated nudes were still playing. He smirked. “Still trying to seduce me?” I lowered my eyes and checked the time. Forty-three minutes remained before I would be thrown into the crocodile pit. But I smiled. Lucien Moretti. This time—we’re gambling with your life.