Just Us Show Novels & Stories

Everyone in Harbor City knew I had a wife whom everyone envied. Not only was she a wealthy heiress, but a celebrated lawyer, untouchable and elegant. However, in private, she was a delicate, devoted wife. I had planned to tell her the truth on our wedding anniversary—that I was the heir to one of Jinmist City's most powerful families—and take her home. However, on her birthday, I walked in on her being pinned to a car and forcefully kissed by her new assistant, with pieces of her torn clothing scattered everywhere. I lost control. The assistant ended up in the ICU, and I ended up in court. To my shock, my wife turned on me in court, falsely accusing me of malicious assault, while saying nothing about the assistant’s attempt. I was sentenced to three years in prison. In the visitation room, I demanded answers, but she remained calm. “You’re my husband. Even if you go to prison, I still love you.” “But Daniel is different. He comes from a poor family. If he’s charged with attempted assault, his life would be ruined forever.” At that moment, my hope shattered. Fine. If she didn’t want the title of wife to the Millers' heir, I’d just have to take it back.

My boss had a new boyfriend called Eugene Larson. The first day he came to the office, he put on a great show of exerting his dominance. He deleted my number from my boss's phone right in front of me. Eugene waved his phone in front of me while playing innocently. "You can talk to me about anything you need to communicate to Tina, Mr. Sanders. I'll help you pass the message to her. I don't have much sense of security, so please don't mind this. It's to avoid any misunderstanding between us." I was hoping my boss, Tina Kayden, would be able to say something fair on my behalf, but all she did was stare at Eugene approvingly and adoringly throughout the conversation. She turned to me and said, "This is a pretty good plan, Mr. Sanders. Do take good care of Eugene from now on." As there was no way for me to reject her, I was forced to add Eugene's contact to my phone. However, the moment he had my number, he flooded my phone with messages. [Mr. Sanders, is the client you're meeting tomorrow with the surname Charleston a man or a woman?] [Where are you having the meeting tomorrow? Wear something casual tomorrow. It would be best if you avoid washing your face and hair. Otherwise, I would think you're trying to seduce my wife.] [I believe your relationship with Tina is innocent. You're not allowed to betray me because I'm treating you like my buddy!] [By the way, you have an extra duty from now on. You need to remind Tina every 30 minutes to send me a message telling me that she loves me.] As I read these ridiculous messages, I laughed in anger. I put my phone on silent mode and flung it to the side before going to bed. The next morning, I woke up to dozens of missed calls on my phone.

When I was three months pregnant, my Don husband’s so-called step sister, Ruby, showed up at my door. Her swollen belly was impossible to miss, “Donna, since my due date is so close, I thought you should know… the Don’s heir is in my belly.” She laid everything in front of me—intimate photos of her and Caleb, records of the weekly money transfers he sent her, even the deed to a mansion. The earliest dates traced back to the time I lost our first baby, when the doctors told me it would be difficult for me to conceive again. All these years, I had been enduring IVF treatments, desperately trying to carry our child once more—while he was fooling around with his so-called step sister. Well, if Caleb wanted another woman so badly, he could have her. I had no intention of staying anyway. I was already planning my leave.

A flicker of hope, a spark amidst the neon grime of New Shanghai. Anya, a slave to the Volkov Mafia, had long buried her emotions under layers of calloused defiance. Years of servitude had carved a burning desire for vengeance into her soul. Then, a whisper of rebellion arrived – a message smuggled in a package, hinting at a Volkov family secret. Anya's heart, long numbed, stuttered awake. This wasn't just a chance to escape; it was a weapon. A weapon to dismantle the empire that had stolen her life, her family, everything. But the path to freedom was a razor's edge. Fear gnawed at her, a constant companion in the Volkov's watchful gaze, their merciless enforcers lurking in every shadow. Yet, a flicker of something else bloomed – a strange, almost forgotten warmth, a sliver of the person she used to be. Could she trust it? As Anya navigated the labyrinth of lies and high-tech security, a deeper truth unfolded. This Volkov secret wasn't just about her escape; it was a key to exposing a far-reaching conspiracy, one that could reshape the city's criminal web. Suddenly, Anya's burning desire for revenge transformed. It wasn't just about herself anymore. It was about a sliver of justice, a chance to dismantle a system that preyed on the weak. But with this newfound purpose came a terrifying weight of responsibility. Was she strong enough to risk everything, to ignite a war she might not survive? The weight of human emotions – fear, anger, and a desperate yearning for freedom – threatened to suffocate her. The price of vengeance was steep, and Anya had to decide if she had the strength to pay it.

They killed her family. They forgot to check the wardrobe. Fifteen years later, she's inside their empire—and they invited her in themselves. The Salvatores don't make mistakes. Except once. #CrimsonPen

After my daughter was seriously injured in a car accident and suffered heavy bleeding, she was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. When it was time to sign the surgical consent form, the nurse suddenly snapped the medical file shut and pressed it down firmly. "Hospital regulations state that only immediate family members can sign the surgical consent form. What proof do you have that you are the child's father?" I was stunned. "She is my biological daughter. Do I still need to prove it to you?" The nurse retorted, "Birth certificates can be forged. How do we know the child wasn't abducted by you? If you cannot prove it, we cannot proceed with the surgery." Seeing the nurse's self-righteous expression, I trembled with anger. "I am signing the surgical consent form for my own biological daughter. Do I need to provide DNA evidence as well?" She curled her lip. "These are hospital regulations. We are being responsible for the patient. If you cannot prove the child is yours, we will report you to the police for child trafficking." After saying that, she actually called security to report it and loudly accused me of being a human trafficker. Report me to the police? I took out my police uniform from my bag and put it on. I'd show her what a split-second response was.

The fearful time to leave the nest arrives for everyone, even more for Catherine, a recent graduate full of dreams in front of her and now receiving a job offer in a renowned law firm far from her hometown, this is the time to move on and fly high, but things are not as easy as she imagines, the obstacles seem to focus on a single person, her boss Miguel who apparently loves to be a tough guy and pick on her, is this all bitterness or is the weirdo hiding something?

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

The story revolves around the life of a renowned young female lawyer by the name of Nena Daniels whose career as a public prosecutor has earned her fame and respect in the city. She investigates and represents Miss Lucile Johnson In court on a rape charge against the culprit Mr Bayo Justice Madonna. Nena begins to take the case personal on the grounds of her family ties with the victim Miss Lucile, her cousin , even though she had to work on it simultaneously with an even bigger case. Prior to the case at hand, a government task force had been set up in their city for the indictment and apprehension of the leader of the BMO(Black Mafia Organization); a notorious drug Cartel that has been controlling the streets for a long time. Nena happened to be granted a seat at the table of this task force but the little RICO they constructed around the leader and it's most infamous leader - Maestro , seems to be making no headway and yielding no results . The twist of events that led to the great reveal of the whole case became a mystery that Nena had to unfold. Join her on this journey and see the details hidden behind the lines on this crime thriller.