Light Novel Beginning After The End Novels & Stories

After getting fired from my company, I returned to the countryside, spending my days playing rummy with my grandmother, but my entire family went insane, searching for me everywhere. It was because my younger sister, the family's prodigy jewelry designer, couldn't come up with a single design after I left. In my previous life, at the National Jewelry Design Competition, she managed to produce designs identical to mine before I even finished mine. Everyone assumed I had copied her work. Even my own family testified in her favor. The company accused me of misconduct and plagiarism, claiming my actions had tarnished their reputation. I was fired on the spot and ordered to pay a huge fine. My family, seeing me as nothing but a burden, threw me out of the house. Crushed by the weight of family betrayal and public judgment, I fell into depression, only to be killed on the street by one of my sister's obsessive fans. As my consciousness faded, I couldn't understand why my sister managed to create the exact same design before I did. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I just signed up for the National Jewelry Design Competition.

RACHEL:I was supposed to be a bride. Instead, I became a tragedy in a white dress. When your mother dies the same night your groom disappears, you stop believing in happy endings. Then came him. A man with no warmth, no promises and eyes that watched me like I was a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. He saved me once. Now I live under his roof, cooking meals for a stranger whose silence speaks louder than comfort. Then there is Chris, the charming CEO who drowns me in the kind of affection I always dreamt of. And there is Liam, my ex fiance who came crawling back, begging for another chance. But the heart is a stupid thing. Even when it’s broken, it still learns to give second chances. Even for the wrong man. DAMIAN: She was a disaster I didn’t ask for. One I couldn’t ignore. I don’t do emotions, and I sure as hell don’t do strays. But I let her in, just for a while. Rachel Hart is not my responsibility. But she keeps showing up in places I can’t ignore, my company, my home, my thoughts. Now her presence lingers. Her scent. Her voice. Her past. She doesn’t belong in my world. But I find myself rearranging it anyway. And when someone else tries to claim her, They’ll learn the hard way I don’t let go of what’s mine.

I didn’t expect my marriage to end when it was on the verge of being saved. Noah Reece, my husband, married my best friend and divorced me. And on a cold night, I fell into the arms of a man I was never supposed to love. When I tried to run from him and what we were becoming, my past returned to claim me in the most tempting way, leaving me torn between two forbidden choices.

My wife's gym is celebrating its grand opening, and I drag my buddy along to check the place out with a 9.90-dollar trial class I bought through an e-commerce platform. For the entire time, I never once let it slip that I'm the owner. Right after we finish training, a male coach tosses a price sheet at us. His eyes sweep over us with contempt as he says, "You two look like freeloaders. Our private sessions cost a few hundred each, and we don't offer freebies to people like you." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We paid for this trial class. How is that freeloading? Go get your manager." He rolls his eyes and makes it seem like he's enforcing a very important rule. "Don't bother looking for the manager. My girlfriend owns this place, and she hates broke losers who try to get free classes." He dials her number right in front of us. His voice sounds both arrogant and pitiful. "Babe, two guys showed up and tried to con us into giving them a free class. They even told me to call the manager. Come over here and show them what's what!"

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

I married someone two years ago. From then on, I lived a happy life. Thankfully, I did not have to deal with a mother-in-law and did not have to work. I even got two hundred thousand dollars from my husband every month as pocket money. Even my best friends lived the high life because of me. But today, right after I got my allowance, I got a call from the police station. They told me to pick my husband up from there.

I was the greediest stand-in in high society, and my motto was simple. As long as cash kept coming, my dignity could take a back seat. For Frederick Jameson, I played the role of his obedient pet, so when his true love accused me of stealing her necklace, I just bowed and apologized. With Samuel York, I served as his lab rat, testing drugs meant for his sweetheart's condition until they left me with a bleeding ulcer. And for Theodore Xander, I acted as a scapegoat, getting pushed out to take the blame of extortion for his crush. They all assumed I was hopelessly in love with them, even forcing me to sign a confession at their joint engagement party. That was when the system's voice chimed in, "Host, the portal home is now open." I wiped the blood from my lips, splashed my wine into their faces, and grinned brightly. "Game over, losers!" Right in front of everyone, I leaped straight into the sea. Later, word spread that the three big shots scoured the entire ocean just to find my body.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT For Jade Hart, there are no black or white when it comes to saving the life of her high school sweetheart. She goes as far as selling her body for his sake but what happens when it all blows up in her face? A night with the infamous Max Anderson is all it takes for Jade's life to spiral out of control. Betrayal, Passion, Lust, Love; how will Jade and Max deal with these emotions and desires, especially when they have three little angels between them?

When I received the news that my fiancé, Ellison Perez, had postponed our wedding for the 18th time, I happened to be walking out of the hospital, clutching my medical report. Once again, he had delayed our wedding for an entire month, all because of my adopted foster sister, Becky. I thought about what the doctor had told me. After hesitating for a long time, I finally dialed Ellison's number. "I can't wait until next month. If we can't get married tomorrow, there won't be another chance." However, Ellison only took my words as another fit of childish willfulness. "Don't be unreasonable, Lily. Have you forgotten how Becky took your place as the hostage? She was tortured for a whole month before being rescued." "It's because of you that she developed severe trauma. Now you can't even wait one more month for her to recover?" I could hear my parents' voices chiming in over the line. "Becky still suffers from extreme fear of men. Ellison is the only one who can calm her down. Isn't it your fault she ended up like this?" "You're being selfish, Lily. A wedding can wait, but Becky's condition can't!" I had known for a long time that ever since that incident, my entire family had chosen Becky's side. Even so, tears streamed down my face. "Fine," I said softly. "Postpone it." I clenched the medical report tightly in my hand. They did not know that just moments ago, the doctor had told me the truth— I was in the final stage of liver cancer. I only had one month to live.

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.