Kissing Screen Novels & Stories

My adopted sister, Rebecca Lawson, steals the gift I painstakingly prepared for the Don and presents it at a family gathering. Everyone in the room is stunned. So, my parents turned what was supposed to be my engagement party into a celebration banquet for Rebecca. They sit together and raise their champagne glasses to toast her, while I collapse alone in the bathroom, hitting my head and bleeding out. After regaining some consciousness, I use all my strength to call them for help, but only the mafia's consigliere and my fiance—Yves Gilbert—answers my calls. "Tessa, why didn't you come to Rebecca's celebration? She felt hurt by your absence! I know you've always been jealous that she could easily gain everyone's affection, but it's what she deserves. "Quickly come over and apologize to Rebecca. Don't disappoint us any further." Yves hangs up the phone after saying that. I stare at the darkened phone screen with an unsightly smile. They don't know that the gift I have prepared for the Don is still a half-finished product and needs to be repaired. However, I don't have the time to tell them. Because I am about to die of illness.

I waited for Alex for over five years. I endured the whispers of the clan, the mocking gazes, the judgment from his family who never thought I was good enough. Still, I waited—because I loved him. I believed in him. I trusted that he would choose me in the end. But the truth shattered me. One evening, I saw his laptop left open. And on the screen—countless photos of Elsa. His childhood sweetheart. His first love. It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. While I was drowning in problems, silently begging for his support, he was smiling by her side. All those years I gave him... all that waiting… I got nothing. So I left. Broken. Exhausted. Done pretending I was okay. I traveled far from our pack, seeking solitude under the excuse of pack relocation. But the truth was, I was trying to stitch myself back together—one breath, one step, one bitter tear at a time.But now… he’s gone mad looking for me. Why, Alex? Why do you search for me now, after crushing me so completely? When I stood by you, you looked past me. Now that I’ve finally let go… Why do you care?

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

After my husband, Samson Ferrell, receives his year-end bonus, he takes his godsister, Maya Taylors, on a three-month overseas trip. Meanwhile, I'm forced to continue working while taking care of our children on my own. In the middle of the night, when my children catch fevers simultaneously, I have to console my younger daughter with soothing words while wiping my oldest daughters down with a damp towel. My phone doesn't stop buzzing the whole time. From time to time, I receive pictures of Samson and Maya in swimwear while lounging under the Moldave sun. Sometimes, I see photos of them skiing happily in Chwiss. Honestly speaking, if Samson is just a friend of mine, I'll find myself admiring his relaxed and casual lifestyle. Unfortunately, he is my legal husband. My phone screen lights up again. This time, it's a racy picture sent by Maya. "Hey, I heard that you're taking care of the children at home. Well then, I shall take good care of Samson." After saving all of the photos and purchase history, I book an appointment with a divorce attorney. The day of Samson's return to the country will be the day he receives a lawsuit to recover marital assets.

While I was watching my own child, I came across an anonymous post online: [My son married way above his station. How can I get him to divorce her?] The poster claimed to be a mother. She said she hated her oldest son, describing him as lazy and selfish, and totally undeserving of such a great in-law family. Her plan was to force him to get a divorce—and then send her well-behaved, obedient younger son in his place as the new son-in-law. The comment section went crazy. [I've seen parents play favorites, but this is just twisted.] [Is the oldest adopted or something? Who schemes against their own flesh and blood like that?] [Are you marrying off a son or pimping one out? Just swapping them in to serve a rich family?] Then, in the middle of all the outrage, one comment surfaced: [Men hate being cheated on. Fake a few photos of your daughter-in-law with another guy and send them to him. Once he loses it, the marriage is as good as over.] The original poster replied immediately: [Thanks, girl! I'll try it right away.] The next second, my phone buzzed. A message from my mom popped up on the screen: [Jason, take a look at this. Do you think Emily is cheating?]

Everyone thought Isabelle Monroe was just a washed-up actress clinging to a loveless marriage. Her husband cheated. Her own son called the other woman “Mommy.” Still, she smiled through it all, desperately trying to fix her perfect family. Until the day both her husband and son told her she was a nuisance and they didn’t want her anymore. Thrown out of her own home, humiliated and replaced, Isabelle walks away with nothing but her pride. But just when the world erased her name, he appeared. Riven Thorne, a powerful, enigmatic and far too familiar man offers her comfort, a contract, and a cold little girl who won’t speak to anyone but her. He gives Isabelle another chance. Not just at motherhood... but at revenge, fame, and love. Now she’s back on screen, headlines are begging for her name, and the same people who mocked her are clawing to be on her side. She tells herself it’s all pretend… The husband. The marriage. But then… Her new daughter clings to her hand. Her son cries and calls her “Mommy” again. And her fake husband starts feeling all too real. Isabelle starts to wonder— Is this fate’s way of rewriting her story?

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

My mate, Alpha Lucius, was kissing me when I heard it slip through his mind-link. “My sweet little pup. Daddy’s moving you and Mommy into the new villa tomorrow. I built it just for you.” That’s when I knew. The villa he’d spent a fortune of my pack’s money on… was a love nest. For his bastard and his whore, Clara. He didn't even notice I'd gone cold, too busy bragging about his re-election as Alliance Chairman. He’d been Chairman for four years. Everyone thought his re-election was a sure thing. But the fool forgot. He was only the most powerful Alpha because of me. He was only Chairman because of me. Because of my Silver Moon Pack. Because of my bloodline. I shoved him away. I sent an urgent mind-link to my father. "Lucius has betrayed the Silver Moon bloodline. He and that omega bitch… they’re going to die."

I had been in a secret relationship with Don Vincent Russo for ten years. The night I found out I was pregnant, he had already booked a wedding. I thought the man who had taken me in from the orphanage was finally going to give me a home. That was, until I saw the video of him kissing his first love, Sofia Costa. On my way to confront him, I was hit by a car and thrown onto the pavement. Lying in a pool of my own blood, I called him again and again. Nineteen times. When he finally answered, he was coaxing Sofia. "If it's too noisy, just turn off the phone, my principessa. Your mood matters most. "Our partnership with the Costa family depends on you." I hung up in despair. What he did not know was that not long before that, I had learned the truth. I was the real heir to the Costa family. The woman he loved… was nothing more than a fake I would tear down with my own hands.

A young, beautiful she-wolf moves into the house opposite mine. She always strikes up conversations with me, her tone filled with enthusiasm. "You and Mr. Howl have such a great relationship. Even after seven years of marriage, he still kisses you goodbye when he leaves. It’s so sweet." She blinks playfully before continuing, "I have a friend who constantly complains about his mate. He says every time he kisses her, it feels like he's kissing a fat pig. Her scent disgusts him, and he can't even get hard when she's around. "And at night… just the sight of her belly rolls and sagging skin makes him want to throw up." I don’t particularly like this she-wolf, but I still offer her a polite smile. That night, however, when my mate kisses me, he suddenly freezes—then pushes me away and runs to the bathroom to vomit.