Kitty Memes Novels & Stories

I had just been discharged from surgery for a collapsed lung when my boyfriend took me to a childhood friend’s birthday party. At the party, he yanked off my ventilator and used it to inflate party balloons. My chest seized violently, as if my lung had been torn open. Justin Miller turned to Sophie Shaw proudly and said, “See? This is so much easier than blowing them up with your mouth.” I gripped the doorframe. I was gasping as my vision blurred. “Justin, I need that to survive! I can’t breathe!” His expression darkened. “Sophie was kind enough to invite you to her birthday party. Know your place! Besides, she put in a lot of effort for this day and spent hours preparing for it. Are you really going to ruin the celebration?” I struggled to speak through the pain. “Is her surprise more important than my life?” I extended a trembling hand toward the ventilator, but Justin waved it aside. He said impatiently, “I already checked. You won’t die from holding your breath for just a moment. Don’t be so selfish!” At that moment, pain stabbed me in the chest, and I used every ounce of my strength to press the emergency call button my brother had given me.

Six years after my younger brother and my fiancée passed away, I picked out a grave for myself. Before my final visit to their graves, my mother suddenly said, “Miles, you don’t have to go this year. The truth is that they never died.” I was startled for a moment before the two of them walked right out of my brother’s room. My brother, Sean, put on a teasing smile as he draped an arm around the woman beside him. “I won the bet! I told you my brother would never figure it out. “Who’s going to be on top tonight, huh, Vera?” My so-called late fiancée, who used to cry whenever she saw me suffer even the slightest grievance, looked at me with open disdain. “He’s just too stupid. We’ve been living next door this entire time, yet he never noticed.” It was only then that I realized my mother forbad me from entering Sean's room, not because it would make her grieve her son again, but because it was directly connected to the house next door. I was truly too foolish. Right up until a month before my death, I was still thinking about visiting their graves.

Kitty Neilson is a wolf less werewolf so she is considered the lowest of the low. Her parents have always treated her with contempt. The only people to ever show her love were her brothers when they were younger before their wolves came out and her grandmother. After a devastating event Kitty left the only home she's ever known to start a new life. However her past won't stop haunting her.

I used to be the most promising composer of my generation. But while I was working on my latest piece, my husband Charles Lambert's childhood friend destroyed everything I had. She slashed my face, stole my compositions, and set fire to my house—leaving me to burn alive alongside the kitten I'd just adopted. Then, as if my death were just a spark for her success, she posted my compositions online, claiming I'd plagiarized her. And people believed her. Everyone did. Strangers on the internet sneered and spat my name, and my own husband, Charles, chose to believe her over me. Even the International Musical Society rescinded my award and handed it to her without a second thought. My students, who once followed me loyally, were now fawning over her. I became the laughingstock of the entire internet—mocked, discredited, erased. It wasn't until a week later, when someone stumbled upon the charred remains of my lakeside studio, that they found what was left of me.

I've raised my son, Caleb Bennett, for nine years, but today I found out he was never mine. Claire Bennett, my wife, shamelessly tells me to leave with nothing. She says Caleb's real father is Lincoln Lancaster, heir to the most powerful family in Berglaton. The Lancaster family has few direct heirs left, so if Lincoln acknowledges Caleb as his son, Lincoln can easily surpass his frail uncle and become the rightful successor. Caleb says, "You think you deserve to be my dad? My real father could crush your whole family with a snap of his fingers!" Margaret Quigley, Claire's mother, adds, "If Claire hadn't gotten pregnant with Lincoln's child back then, do you really think we'd have let someone like you marry into our family?" I don't fight back. I just sign the divorce papers in silence. After that, I take out my phone and call my father, James Lancaster, who has been waiting for me in Berglaton all these years. "Come pick me up on Christmas Eve," I say. "I'm ready to go home and take over the family."

As the owner of a small private business, I had never been stingy with my employees. Having made a million in profit, I distributed $850,000 to them. I believed this would win people’s hearts. I never expected it would lead to being reported by my own employees. "We have received an anonymous tip-off from your company’s employees alleging arbitrary wage deductions and unfair profit distribution. The report further states that company discipline is disorganized and that employees are being compelled to work overtime, constituting a serious violation of labor laws. Immediate corrective action is hereby required, along with a fine of $500,000." Fine. Since they were so dissatisfied with my policies, then we would do things by the book—by the rules every other company followed. I would keep every last cent of this one million in profit.

One year ago, Frank Luccasio, the heir to the future Don of Newborough's underworld, saved me when I attempted to commit suicide. He cleared my school debt, admitted my younger sister, Ariana Romano, into rehab, and hired the best doctors in the world to treat my mom's cancer. His only request? I had to become his mistress. I thought Frank was a gift from God—that he was a beam of light illuminating my dark world. When he got ambushed by assassins, I used my body to block the fragments caused by the explosion for him. As Frank scooped my blood-drenched form into his arms, he screamed hysterically, "Isabella!" But… my name was Selena… After I got admitted into the ICU, the real Isabella Messina returned to Frank's life. Knowing that I was just a replacement, I sensibly left Frank, only to be brought back by force. Since then, I became a plaything for the both of them. They humiliated and tormented me incessantly while flaunting their love for each other. Unable to take it anymore, I sent a text to a certain someone and attached a photo to it. "Don Luccasio, the one giving your son head in the photo happens to be your darling wife, Isabella Messina. Those who betray the family must never be forgiven." This time, I would be the one sending Frank and Isabella to hell.

My husband, Keaton Smyth, CEO of Orion Corp, ran the company under strict rules. I brought in a $10 million investment. But I clocked in one second late, so bye-bye VP promotion. I got accused of disrespecting company policy, demoted, and slapped with a pay cut. Then there was Evie Larsen, his shiny new assistant. She ditched work on the day of a huge contract signing and trashed Orion's only shot with a public company. Keaton's response? No punishment. No write-up. He called it "personality," promoted her right there, gave her a raise, and tossed her a river-view apartment as company housing. Evie still wanted more. She pushed to take over Orion's core project, all so she could "prove herself." I shut her down. That same day, she marched into Keaton's office and accused me of power-tripping, insulting her, and refusing to train her. I thought Keaton would see through it. The next morning, my name was gone from the project team. My file access was revoked, too. "Since you're too senior to mentor new hires, you're starting over. Entry-level sales rep. Same level as them." Everyone waited for me to snap. I just smiled and handed over the flash drive with the project data. Keaton nodded, pleased. "Don't let it happen again." What he didn't know? That data wasn't complete. The second they uploaded it, the errors would tank the project—and trigger a breach-of-contract penalty big enough to bury them.

The day the company was exposed for accounting fraud, my CEO husband did the unthinkable. To protect his favorite assistant, Ivy Kane, he called a press conference and publicly pinned all the blame on me, vowing to make sure I paid the price. Ivy put on a heartbroken expression and said, "Olivia, I warned you a long time ago not to misuse company funds, let alone falsify financial records. Why wouldn't you listen?" My coworkers stared at me in shock, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smiled, accepted every accusation, and voluntarily resigned. My husband thought I had finally learned my lesson. He lowered his voice and promised, "When this is all over, I'll make sure you get your job back. And when the time comes, I'll make our relationship public. Consider it my way of making it up to you.” What he didn't know was that, to protect the company's interests, the chairman instructed me on opening day to install monitoring software on every computer in the office. The moment those system logs were retrieved, their lies would fall apart on their own. And when that happened, what awaited them wouldn't just be massive financial penalties, it would be prison.

On the day I successfully conceived through IVF, my CEO boyfriend—the sole heir to a nine-generation business empire—finally agreed to marry me. Yet, after a flight of more than ten hours, I landed only to be greeted by a public announcement of his marriage to his secretary, with journalists watching from every angle. The secretary eagerly showed off the marriage certificate, fresh off the press. "Don't worry, everyone. From now on, I'll personally supervise Mr. Lane for the rest of our lives." When the journalists spotted me, they all focused on me, hoping I'd cause a scene. However, I merely smiled and congratulated the couple. "You and Mr. Lane are perfect for each other, Ms. Quinn. I wish you both a long and happy marriage." Everyone was shocked. No one had expected such generosity from me—Harold's girlfriend of nine years. As I turned to leave, Harold darted over to defend himself with a scowl. "Leila worked day and night with me on this international project. She refused every bonus and only asked to experience the fairy-tale romance of marrying a CEO. We already agreed to divorce once the project is over. I'll make it up to you with an even bigger, better wedding." Then, his voice softened. "For the sake of our baby, don't cause trouble, okay?" With a bright smile, I slapped his hand away. "Who told you the baby's yours?"