Junko Furuta Story Novels & Stories

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

My mate, Andrew Claude, is the Alpha of the Celestial Pack, the sworn rival of my father’s Venus Pack. For three years, we have hidden our bond, knowing that our union could either bring peace between the packs or ignite war. On Lunar Year's Eve, beneath the full moon’s silver glow, we stand on the castle terrace, whispering promises of our future. Tonight, we finally agree to perform our bonding ritual, sealing our fates before revealing our love to our parents. My wolf stirs in anticipation, her instincts urging me toward him. But then, Andrew leaps down into the grand fire-dance festival, his powerful wolf form shifting mid-air before landing in a flourish. The scent of burning pine and roasted venison fills the air, warriors howling in celebration. The pack’s bonfire crackles with enchanted flames, casting shadows of prowling wolves against the towering stone walls. I watch from above, heart pounding with joy—until my smile fades. In the heart of the revelry, Carol Sinclair, an Omega maid, clutches a bundle of enchanted fireworks. Andrew strides to her, a warm, easy grin on his face. With a flick of his fingers, golden flames dance from his palms, sparking the firework in her hands. "A little fire magic to help you, Carol," he chuckles. She gasps in admiration, giggling as the firework ignites—only for it to spiral out of control. It veers wildly, the enchanted embers lashing through the air. Searing pain blooms across my arm. The stench of burning flesh fills my nose. I barely react before Carol bursts into tears and flees into the crowd. Before I can speak, Andrew turns on me, his golden eyes flashing with rage. The onlookers fall silent, ears twitching to catch their Alpha’s words. “Did you bully her, Bella?” His growl rumbles deep in his chest. “Just because you’re an Alpha’s heir doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want!” The warriors glance at each other, their tails stiff with tension. I stagger back, stunned. He doesn’t even ask if I’m hurt.

After I turn five years of age and have my very own phone, I start receiving strange messages every single day. For some reason, the sender keeps referring to me as their mom. At 3:00 am, they send me another message. "Mom, I saw you in my dreams again. The rain is seeping into the attic. My stepmom told me to use a rag to soak up all the water, but the rag is too small. Even though I tried to wipe it up all night, it still wouldn't dry. Mom, I'm so cold and hungry. I miss you so much…" I tilt my head, looking at the rain pouring outside the window. I then earnestly reply, "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Where are you right now? I will bring you something yummy!"

The moms at the company post about me online, claiming the free daycare I provide for their kids is a "prison" and a vile tactic to force them to work overtime. What they don't know is that the daycare was set up with imported equipment and staffed by internationally trained professionals. It costs nearly eight thousand dollars a month per child to operate. The internet curses me out, calling me a show-off and disgusting capitalist. So I grit my teeth and send out a company-wide announcement. "To support everyone's desire to handle their own childcare, the company has decided to close the free daycare program. Effective immediately, it will be replaced with a childcare benefit. Eligible mothers will receive 200 dollars a month." As soon as the notice goes out, the moms panic. They crowd outside my office, begging me not to shut it down.

　　Three years ago, at the very wedding I had meticulously prepared, my fiancé, Vito Rossi, turned the ceremony into a stage to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Isabella. 　　When I dared to confront him, he didn't offer an apology. Instead, he threw me into a subterranean dungeon. Whippings, starvation, and systematic humiliation—I nearly drew my last breath in that living hell. 　　Eventually, I chose to let them go. I walked away and married the man who sits at the absolute peak of the underworld—Lorenzo De Santis, the Godfather of the De Santis family. 　　Three years later, at the San Antonio Docks. 　　I accompanied Lorenzo for a business negotiation, but a sudden matter forced him to step away, leaving his men to receive me. I never expected to run into Vito after three years of silence. 　　Vito and his now-fiancée humiliated me in front of the crowd, even accusing me of being a spy and threatening to arrest me. 　　I turned my gaze toward my husband, who had just arrived—the man who rules the entire Mafia world. I lifted my chin and looked at him. 　　"Lorenzo," I said, my voice steady and clear. "This maniac wants to throw your wife into a dungeon again. How do you intend to handle this?"

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

When I miscarried due to a car accident, Aidan Brown drove past my car with his Beta. He glanced at the blood on the ground in disdain and covered Seraphina Gross’s curious eyes. “Don’t look at this horrible sight. It’s bad luck.” I tried to use mind-link to call him when I saw his car. However, he did not respond to me, and his car disappeared from my sight. That night, I saw the lipstick stain on his shirt collar and smiled bitterly. I felt pain shoot through my heart. I immediately understood what it meant. I called the Alpha of the Valoria pack. “Kieran Wesley, I’ve thought it through. I’ll join your company next week.”

While inspecting my company’s cold-chain operations, my wife, Mandy Snow, and the college boy, Jonas Leedon, who I’d been sponsoring suddenly vanished. As I passed the cabinet storing the research supplies, a stream of floating comments suddenly flashed before my eyes. [That was way too close! Jeff Miller almost caught them. Good thing Mandy reacted fast and dragged her boy toy into the storage cabinet.] [But that cabinet is about to be locked up and shipped to the Antarctic research station. Are those two trying to turn themselves into ice sculptures?] I froze. My wife was cheating on me right under my nose? I was just about to pull open the cabinet door when my wife’s assistant, Patrick, hurried over and forced a smile, blocking my way. “Mr. Miller, the seal on this cabinet was just waxed and hasn’t dried yet. Careful, or you’ll get your hands dirty.” The floating comments appeared again. [That was so close! The assistant’s pretty sharp. Once Mandy gets out, she totally owes him a car.] [No wonder she’s the lucky heroine. She always gets out of trouble. I seriously can’t wait to watch her sweet romance with her boy toy.] Looking at the comments in front of me, I let out a cold laugh. “These are critical supplies for the research team. To make sure nothing goes wrong, seal the cabinet right now.” “Go get a welder. Weld the door shut.” The assistant froze, and so did the floating comments. [What the hell? This evil male character is brutal. The two people inside aren’t wearing a thing.] [Help! If the door gets welded shut, the male and female leads are going to drift at sea for a month and freeze into specimens!]

Our entire class gets dragged into The Tyrant's Atonement game. The only way to escape alive is to reach a 100% atonement score. The system lets us choose our roles. The class belle, Isolde Adler, picks the tyrant's first love. Her atonement score shoots straight to 99% on the first day. The class president, Asher Brooks, chooses to be a loyal chancellor. His atonement score jumps to 80%. Spectators watching the game flood the screen with comments. "This new batch is smart and way better at picking roles than the last. They might just clear the game in three days." "Even if just one person hits 100%, the whole class goes free. I'm looking forward to seeing who finishes first." "My money's on the first love. She's already at 99%." Just as everyone starts celebrating, the next morning hits us with bad news. All 20 classmates who picked their roles are dead, and Isolde suffers the cruelest fate of all.