Leftovers Novels & Stories

My boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party. Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage. "Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table." The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl. After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful." The room exploded with laughter. I didn't say a word. I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me. They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on. I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them. I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'

“Oh, so now Valerie’s sent you to do her dirty work, huh? How pathetic. She’s got you dancing on a string, and you’re just a mindless puppet eager to please her. Newsflash, Chris, you’re nothing but a doormat for her to wipe her feet on. And I’ve heard you’re treating her like your personal trophy, polishing her ego and feeding her insecurities. How cute! Take my leftovers brother, go ahead. You’re welcome to the trash I’ve discarded. Enjoy being her second-hand man, her Plan B, her consolation prize”. As soon as the words left Chase’s lips, Chris’ face turned beet red with rage. His eyes bulged, and his massive fists clenched into deadly weapons. "Sassy Orphan and the Twin CEOs" is a romantic tale of twin billionaires who couldn't stand each other due to family misunderstandings. Their lives get more complicated with Valerie, a feisty beauty. One twin fathers her child, while the other harbors secret love for her, sparking drama and tension.

My mate, Ethan Rickman, is an Omega without a wolf. No official position is willing to hire him. That means we live in poverty, but I've always believed that our love can overcome anything. Seven years after our mating, hunger drives me and our son, Theo Rickman, to dig through trash bins late at night, looking for food. Theo moves quickly and quietly. He's become skilled at it. With a cheerful grin, he whispers to me, "Mom, this bin belongs to an award-winning restaurant! The food's fresh and tastes great. Let's bring some back for Dad!" The next day, I put on the cleanest clothes I own and head to that same restaurant, hoping to get hired as a janitor. If I get the job, maybe I can bring home leftovers before they're tossed out. But when I look up, I see Ethan stepping out of a luxury car worth millions. Behind him stands a woman and child, both dressed in designer clothes. I recognize her instantly. She's Mira Alstone, his childhood sweetheart. The restaurant owner gives me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Ms. Everdeen. Alpha Ethan reserved the whole place for Mira today. I have to focus on serving them, so I don't have time for interviews. Maybe come back another day?" In that moment, Theo and I both freeze where we stand.

Reborn as the long-lost Rogers heir, missing for fifteen years, I avoided every chance to bond with my two brothers in this family. When they tossed me Vivi’s discarded, ill-fitting gown for the family gala, I smiled and put it on. When they sent Vivi to get an elite education while ordering me to scrub the utility room, I picked up the mop without a word. When they let Vivi chase love and dumped her rejected suitor on me, I didn’t fight. I accepted her leftovers with a calm nod. This was all because in my past life, I had spent my entire life desperate for my brothers' approval, only to end up despised by everyone for it. When I died in the crossfire of a gangland shootout, my own son pushed my body away in disgust. "Mom, did you really waste your whole life on such a petty fight with Aunt Vivi? Dying for the family would have been a more dignified end. At least then you wouldn't have disgraced our name." I left this world filled with resentment, only to open my eyes and find myself back at the moment I first set foot in the Rogers estate. This time, I'm done fighting. The power, the name, the honor. I'm letting them have it all. I’ve already been accepted into a closed-door medical project. Soon they will never see me again.

When the bank calls me to collect the first round of mortgages from me, do I realize that my wife, Denise Sheridan, also the same woman who eats leftovers and saves every single penny with me in our daily lives, has bought my brother-in-law, Dmitri Sheridan, two prime mansions located near a school. While Dmitri is placed as the mansion deed holder, I'm the one who's supposed to clear off the mortgages. I hurl the purchasing contract to the floor in fury. "You said Nancy's leukemia requires a shit ton of money, so I've been saving up my whole life. I even went as far as to work ten jobs per day! "My dad had to sell his kidney in exchange for a term of Nancy's chemotherapy bills because you told me the money wasn't enough at all. But thanks to the shady hospital, he died on the surgical table! "And yet, now you've used the money that Dad and I had put our blood, sweat, and tears into earning to buy mansions for Dmitri! Do you even have a conscience?" "What happened to your dad was destined to be! Sure, we could always make more money if we have more treatment bills to cover, but Dmitri's case is different! He urgently needs money for his marriage!" Denise refutes in a righteous way. I'm about to lash out at her when my daughter, Nancy Sheridan, rushes out. "Dad, Uncle Dmitri is the hope of our family! I don't mind giving him money to spend!" At that moment, I finally realize that not only am I this household's ATM, but my own daughter is also an ingrate through and through.

“Is trusting you a sin?” Hannah asked. “It wouldn't have been a sin if you were nothing but sand under my feet. You’ve always had it all—the grades, the charm, the spotlight. Teachers adored you. Boys wanted you. Even James, the only one I ever looked at like that, fell for you despite your boring look.” Her best friend’s laugh was dry. Cruel. Hannah’s heart squeezed, her breath catching in her throat. “You think you’ve won?” she said, voice shaking. “Because you slept with my husband and fed him lies?” “I don’t think, Hannah. I won.” “You didn’t win. You settled. You crawled into my leftovers and tried to wear my skin like it would turn you into something better—but it didn’t.” --- On her first wedding anniversary, Hannah Reyes was drugged—by her husband and her best friend. The betrayal shattered her world, and cost her the one thing she was holding onto: her unborn child. The next day, still lying in a hospital bed, her husband handed her divorce papers... then ordered her thrown out. Lost, bleeding, and alone, she was hit by a car. But fate wasn’t done with her yet. The driver? Matthew DeLacruz—her husband’s former friend, now bitter enemy, and a man he once scammed. And Matthew made her an offer she couldn’t ignore: "Be my vice president, and I’ll help you destroy him." What began as revenge turned into something else, something thrilling, empowering, and dangerously beautiful. And just when she thought she had nothing left to lose, Matthew made her a different offer: Marriage. Now Hannah must ask herself: Can she truly trust again? Or will this new beginning become just another ending?

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

When I was five years old, I was kidnapped by the human traffickers. Later on, I was abandoned at Dreadvault Isle's prison meant for serious offenders located in the infamous no-man's land of Cloudguard Continent. In order to avoid dying from starvation, I clung to Edgar Blythe, who was a serial killer with the highest bounty known on the Internet, and called him "Grandpa Eddie". Then, I moved to grip Franklin Graves, a former boxing champion, by his diamond-crusted belt just to beg for scraps. Finally, I entangled myself around a top-tier assassin's leg while yelling at the top of my lungs, "As long as you don't let me starve to death, I'll make sure to take care of you once you grow old!" All the international mercenaries, arms dealers, and professional assassins were stunned by my declaration. In the end, they gave me some leftovers from their own plates. That was how I was raised in prison. Since my grandpas have enemies all over the globe, the first thing I do after returning to the country is act like a cowardly impoverished student. When I'm a college sophomore, Leonard Hargrove, a rich scion from a conglomerate, has accused me of stealing his laptop. He even beats me up relentlessly on the campus field and breaks three of my ribs by stomping on my chest. To make things worse, he forces me to swallow blood-drenched soil. I'm in so much pain that I've practically gone nuts and bitten off half of Leonard's ear as a result. Jordan Chappel, the dean of the college, kicks me to the floor when I meet him later on in his office. "Do you really think you're in the right for stealing from someone else, you broke bastard? All he did was hit you a few times! It's not like you'll die from those attacks! "You'd better tell your guardians to come here as soon as possible! I want to see them groveling to me and apologize on your behalf!" After spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva, I turn to stare Jordan dead in the eye. "Are you sure you really want my guardians to show up?"