Little Mouse Booktok Novels & Stories

Blurb It all began with a passionate kiss, A forbidden kiss, A kiss that had lead to more than they both bargained for, A kiss that sealed their fate together forever, A kiss of a playboy. Keith Brown attends her best friend's older brother's wedding but never did she expect the billionaire playboy to stop his wedding because of the three-year-old boy she was carrying in her hands or was it for an entirely different reason? Fall in love and ride along in this masterpiece MY BILLIONAIRE BABY DADY

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

I've just left the washroom when Vanessa Shallow, who has just returned from her maternity leave, covers her mouth as she laughs at me. "Wow, you really are quick when it comes to bathroom breaks, huh? No wonder your sales performance is increasing by leaps and bounds! I suppose it's all thanks to your ability to take off your pants very quickly!" Vanessa acts as though she's joking as she starts making faces at the male colleagues around us. "Right, I forgot how prideful young ladies are nowadays! They can't seem to accept such truths when spoken in such a blunt manner!" The colleagues burst out laughing in a lecherous way afterward. Their perverted gazes keep clinging to my legs the whole time. As I stare at Vanessa's slightly bloated face, my gaze grows cold. It seems that she's so anxious to get her position as the project leader back that she's willing to shed even her sense of shame and propriety. I take a step forward and speak up. "I'm not as skilled as you are when it comes to such things, Vanessa. After all, not everyone is capable of making Mr. Studdard visit their home every midnight during their maternity leave." As soon as my words fall, the previously rowdy office goes deathly silent.

During the holiday, I took my whole family on a trip. Just as we were about to head back, more than ten police cars surrounded us at the guesthouse. The police showed a video. In it, under surveillance cameras, I drove to a forest near a popular tourist town the day before and dumped a corpse. Even more frightening, there was a strange woman sitting in the car. After throwing away the body, the two of us immediately engaged in intimate acts inside the car. Hannah Walker slapped me hard across the face. "No wonder you insisted on going to that tourist town to buy snacks for us—you were using it as an excuse to go on a date! "After doing something so inhumane, you still had the nerve to do such filthy things in the car?" However, yesterday, I had clearly gone to the town alone to buy snacks and returned. There was no such horrifying experience at all. Without another word, the police opened the trunk. When the searchlight swept across it, it was filled with bloodstains from the victim's body. In the corner, they also found the murder weapon with my fingerprints on it. I had no way to defend myself. I fell from being a rocket engineer, a hero in the country's aerospace field, to a death row prisoner. Due to the severity of the case, I was sent to the execution ground in less than a month. My parents and child, who had been on the trip with me, were blocked at the guesthouse by the victim's family and beaten to death. However, even as reality dawned on me, I still did not understand what had happened that day. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I was about to leave to buy snacks.

I've gone to the church to pray for my son, Robert Scott. On the way home, my carriage is overturned because the horses suffer from a shock. When I wake up, I look at my family gathering around my bed. Then, I decide to pull a prank on them. "Sorry, but who are you?" I do my best to suppress the smile that threatens to appear on my face. I want to see how my family is going to comfort me now that I have "amnesia". Will Mom and my husband, Jeremy Scott, take my hands comfortingly? Or will Robert lunge at me while crying out to me? What I don't expect is to see my family breathing sighs of relief after their initial shock has faded away. Mom is the first one to speak up with a hint of relief coloring her tone. "Since you've already forgotten all about us, then it's fine. Maisie, you're actually the adopted daughter of the Liddell family. Amber is the actual heiress of the Liddell family." Jeremy points at me while telling Robert, "Robbie, you must address her as Aunt Maisie." Before I can recover from my shock, I see my own son, whom I'm willing to sacrifice my life to protect, running over to hug Amber Liddell, the fake heiress, happily. "Mom, I've spent the whole day playing outside! Oh, I miss you so much!" So, it turns out that my case of amnesia is exactly what this family wants. In that case, I might as well abandon this farce of a family.

My younger sister, Mindy Sampson, has a rare blood condition. She needs regular blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant. My husband, Ian Huffman, and I are matches. My mother says we should draw lots. Whoever draws the short stick will become Mindy's blood donor. In the next five years, I am always the one who draws the short stick. Because of constant blood draws and bone marrow extractions, my body breaks down. Before I die, I stumble upon Ian holding Mindy and saying, "Cindy is so stupid. There are only short sticks in the container. Every time, we let her draw first. How could she ever get a long one? "She is going to die without ever knowing you are not sick at all. Once she dies and we get the insurance money, we can travel the world." When I open my eyes again, I am back in the fifth year after Mindy is diagnosed. I look at the container of sticks on the table and smile. Then, I look at Ian and say, "This time, you draw first."

On the day the male influencer patient was discharged, he posted a tearful video accusing my chaste, principled doctor wife of sexually assaulting him. In the clip, he cowered in a corner of the hospital, trembling, his clothes disheveled. With a terrified cry of "Dr. Shelby," he abruptly cut the footage. Overnight, my wife became a monster in a white coat—public enemy number one across the internet. We begged him, again and again, to come forward and clarify the truth. Instead, he posted an injury assessment report and wept about being bullied by his doctor. My wife had no way to defend herself. She was suspended pending investigation—and in the end, she leapt from the thirtieth floor. I endured humiliation and waited for the truth to surface. When it finally did, I obtained a reexamination report that proved her innocence. But by then, no one cared about the truth anymore. And I, consumed by despair, died of cancer. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day that patient was first admitted. This time, I begged my wife to take leave—I wanted to take her away from this doomed fate. But my gentle wife wrapped her arms around me, her eyes red, and said, "Don't be afraid, honey. This time… I won't run away."

I got into a car accident on my way to celebrate my daughter, Anna Chapman's birthday. When I wake up, I stare at my family, who has my bed surrounded. Then, I decide to crack a joke. "Sorry, but who are you people?" I do my best to suppress my smile as I look forward to how my family will comfort me now that I'm "amnesiac". Will my dad and my wife hold my hands out of heartbreak? Or will Anna rush over to hug me while crying for me? What I don't expect is that my family actually heaves sighs of relief after their initial shock. My dad is the first one to speak up, his tone tinged with relief. "It's a good thing that you've forgotten about your past. The truth is, you're the adopted son of the Gray family. Calvin is the actual heir of the Grays." My wife, Yvonne Stewart, points at me while telling Anna, "You should address him as Uncle Damian." Before I can recover from my shock, I see Anna, who I've risked my life to protect, run into Calvin Gray, the fake heir's arms. "Daddy, I was out having fun the whole day! Oh, I've missed you so much!" It turns out that my family wants nothing more than for me to lose my memories. In that case, I might as well abandon everything that's fake in my life.

On the first day of her marriage, Lyra Leighton told her CEO husband, Wesley Cheswick, "I don't care if you fall for someone else later. But if she ever shows up in front of me, you'll never see me again." So when he did fall for a schoolteacher, he kept her tucked away. Gave her everything she wanted. Everything except permission to cross Lyra. But the side chick got bold on his affection and ignored the line. She showed up with a baby bump and shoved it in Lyra's face. "Wesley said it himself. He never loved you. He married you for your family's status. Know your place. Get an abortion and divorce him. Now. Otherwise, when Wesley dumps you, you won't get a dime." Lyra smiled and called her father. "Pull the investment from Cheswick Tech. I'm getting a divorce."

I went viral, all for the wrong reasons. The world came down hard on me, all because I refused to approve my employee, Cassandra’s, maternity leave. Cassandra tore me apart online. “Why won’t you grant me maternity leave? “The government wants the birth rate to go up. Even if you’re the CEO, you can’t go against the law. “I get it. The low birth rate exists because heartless capitalists like you treat employees like nothing. “Fam, back me up here. Am I wrong to protect my unborn child? “I have a legal right to maternity leave.” With her words striking a chord with the young generation, the livestream became a viral sensation. Many spammed the company’s social media to criticise me. There were memes of me as a funeral portrait everywhere. Some even mailed wreaths to the office. The board ordered me to apologize live. I plugged into Cassandra’s stream and looked at her calmly. “I’m sorry, but I still can’t approve your leave.”