Keep A Low Profile Sect Leader Novels & Stories

All my life, I never truly got to live. Everything I said or did had been at the whims of others. I was nothing more than a doll for people to play with and toss away when they became bored of her. When I finally decided to live for myself and my baby, I died full of regrets unable to accomplish anything. However, the Moon Goddess saw fit to give me a second chance, and I refused to waste it. The first step in my path of revenge and ensuring a good life for the both of us was to enter a contract marriage with Maverick Peterson, a powerful demon werewolf hybrid, and the suspected father of my baby.

Just before her husband and son have her locked in a psychiatric ward, Nora Yates wakes up—reborn, wide awake, and done playing nice. Two men who never truly loved her? Who used and discarded her? Fine. She’s cutting them out for good. When she signs the divorce papers and walks away, the world cheers—including the internet. Oddly, the only one upset is her adoptive sister, the mistress. “Come on, Nora,” she pouts. “I only borrowed your husband and son for my birthday. Was that really worth all this drama?” “You’re lucky to have a husband and son like that. You should count your blessings.” Nora lets out a sharp laugh. “Then consider this ‘blessing’ my personal gift to you. After all, trash belongs in the dumpster.” She walks off without a second glance—glowing, untouchable, and ready to run the world. Soon, her business is booming. Suitors line up. The woman they tried to destroy becomes the woman everyone wants to be. Years later, now a titan in her field, she sits down for a high-profile interview. “Ms. Yates,” the reporter asks, “it’s rumored that Mr. Luther, CEO of Luther Corp, is your ex-husband. Do you still keep in touch?” Nora smiles politely. “Sorry. I’m a widow with no children.” Then she turns to the camera, smiles straight through the lens—at the ex-husband and son losing their minds behind the scenes—and adds, “Just remarried. Baby girl on the way.”

She had just one job. To fill in her mother’s role at work while her mother's boss, Jordan, searched for a replacement. Filling his head and heart wasn’t part of the bargain.

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

When I'm washing Julian White's pants, I pull out a management fee invoice from one of the pockets. Surprisingly enough, the address is the unit on the floor above my apartment. The thing is, Julian's name is put down as the apartment owner. As I clutch the invoice, I feel my blood turning into ice. Suddenly, I recall the way Julian kept telling me he had overtime shifts to pull over the past six months. Because of that, he often came home past midnight. There were a few times when I realized that his car was still parked in its designated parking slot of the apartment block despite the fact that he had already "gone out". When I asked Julian for the reason, he answered, "The gas prices are very high right now. Taking the subway is more convenient, not to mention I get to save more money for our family's expenses." I used to feel happy about the fact that Julian cared so much about our family. But now, I finally realize that his so-called overtime shifts are just excuses for him to spend time in the unit upstairs. At that moment, I hear the sounds of a key being inserted into the front door's lock. Julian is home. When he notices the invoice in my hand, he takes it from me casually. "Maybe the staff placed it in the wrong mailbox." I nod with a smile. "It's nothing. I'm going to take out the trash first." After leaving the apartment, I head upstairs right away. Once I knock on the door, the woman who came to open the door for me is heavily pregnant. It seems that she's about to give birth.

Matthew Sinclair Chan, a wealthy bachelor whose marriage was decided by his authoritative father. To escape the situation, he went to the US and there he found a solution to his problem. Harebell was about to take the last semester of her studies in New York when she received unfortunate news from her family, they were scammed and lost a huge amount of money including their properties. Struggling financially, to fund her studies, she took a part time job as a nanny to a wealthy family where she met the escaped bachelor. After discovering Harebell's financial problem, he made a proposition, one that Harebell never expected that she would go through and cannot ignore. A marriage in exchange for her family's release from debt and her brother bail out from prison. But will a marriage last when the foundation was money? What secret will she bear once the contract ends and divorce comes their way? A secret. An affair. A mistake. A confession. The unknown's revelation. What life will she live in the hands of the bachelor?

She needed one night. He needed one woman. Drowning in debts and desperate to survive, Ana Thompson agrees to a one-time job as a stripper. It’s supposed to be just one night, a quick way to pay off her stepmother’s endless demands. But that night, she collides with Fred Nork, the cold-hearted billionaire CEO of Majesties, a luxury women’s brand that thrives on elegance. Haunted by her past and overwhelmed by shame, Ana disappears before morning, leaving behind only a bloodstained sheet and the memory of her first time. Fred wakes up alone, confused, and with an unfamiliar ache in his chest. He doesn’t know her name. Weeks later, Ana’s world spirals further out of control. Homeless, pregnant, and rejected, she clutches the only lifeline she has, Fred’s business card, slipped into her bag the night they met. But when she walks into Majesties, hoping for help, she finds him… announcing his engagement to Tiana Monroe, a viciously poised heiress with a heart of ice. Shattered but not broken, Ana does the unthinkable. She applies for a cleaning job at Majesties. She begins working at the bottom rung of Fred’s empire. But Fred notices her. He doesn’t recognize the woman who once lit his world on fire, but something about Ana pulls him in again. Now, with the world watching, Fred must make an impossible choice: cling to the legacy he’s built with Tiana by his side, or risk it all for the mysterious woman who slipped away. Ana has a choice too: can she trust the man who once seemed so cold with her heart… and her child’s life? In a world where love is a weakness and power means everything, can a single night rewrite destiny?

Children beware, and please give care of things that go bump in the night. It all seems like fun when you provoke mayhem and run through the graveyard to give one a fright. Please heed our warning from dusk until morning giving caution to the naive. Goblins and Ghouls wait on the foolishly brave to pull beyond the hallow grave.

As New Year's Day approaches, a new hire who has only been with the company for six months, who is a mama's girl, calls the police and tries to have me arrested. She suspects our company is some kind of a scam. But the truth is, the company exceeded its performance targets this year. That is why I prepared a million-dollar year-end bonus, a ten-day premium trip to Graceland, and equity grants for my employees. Yet, she waves around a video her mother sends her, claiming that high-paying jobs like the one I offered are all traps. Not only that, she slanders my company all over the internet. Netizens become outraged and call me a scammer disguised as an entrepreneur. Having become the target of public criticism, I simply issue a notice, saying, "The company will immediately begin transfer procedures, and all perks are canceled." As soon as the announcement comes out, my employees, who have just taken out loans to buy homes and just gotten their visas for the trip, are completely stunned.

For five years, I was married to Joshua Grayson. He was known as the gentleman of the tech industry and was never arrogant. In fact, he was always cool and collected. A shame we never had any children of our own. I asked every single doctor I could get my hands on, but nothing helped. For that, I kept beating myself up. Joshua told me that it was fine if we had no children, and that what mattered was that our souls were perfect for each other. We did not need any children to secure our bonds. I believed him. And then I found an unsealed box of Plan B in a secret space in his study. It looked exactly the same as the vitamin tablets he fed me all the time. A phone sat under the box. The screen was a photo of him with his top secretary, Yvonne Wellington. It was a family of three. Then, a message popped up on the screen. 'Our girl's born, Joshua! Haven't thought of her full name yet, so we'll call her Cece for now.' 'Oh, right, you fed your wife contraceptives for five years. Now that we have a perfect family, you should kick her out and make me your wife instead. When's that going to happen?' The message hit me like a lightning bolt that came out of nowhere. To think I wasted five years beating myself up for never getting a baby. To think I looked forward to one. And now, everything was crumbling around me.