Luffy Photo Novels & Stories

The day my wife slept with her terminally ill “male best friend” to take his virginity, I left a divorce agreement behind and walked out. Before I left, I commented under their hand-holding photo on Instagram. [Let's get divorced. I wish you and Theo a long and happy life together.] One minute later, she called me. "Logan, how did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you? Can you really let him die without someone to carry on his line?" I sneered and replied that she wasn't my wife anymore, so that wasn't really my problem. She panicked.

After a one-night stand, I left a three-thousand tip for a flawless male model and even set up another night that weekend. I thought it was nothing more than a pleasant exchange between two willing adults. That was before my overprotective, old-fashioned brother saw the marks covering me and exploded: "Track down the bastard who hurt my sister. I want him hunted down and ripped apart!" The police stared at the photo for a long moment before one of them spoke softly: "Isn't this… Frederick, the Alpha King of the Bloodmoon Wolf Kingdom?" That was when it hit me. I had taken the Alpha King for a one-night deal. I had paid him three thousand.

I receive a mysterious parcel on my fifth wedding anniversary. Inside the box are photos of my husband, Luke Madden, being intimate with his assistant. The photos go back a long time—they seem to start from over five years ago. The latest one was taken half a month ago. He, his assistant, and their daughter are playing by the seaside. They smile brightly in the photo and look like a happy family of three. I suppress my devastation and take medication to terminate my pregnancy. Then, I pull out my phone to text my mother. "I'll do as you say and get a divorce, Mom. I'll be back next month to take over the company."

I was a streamer famous for doing random, unhinged stuff online. And now the richest woman in Bayford wanted me to seduce her son. "Make my son fall for you. I'll give you ten properties. Houses, apartments, condos." For a second, even I thought, 'Okay, this is insane.' Marianne Jensen looked at me like I was her last hope. "Please. I'm out of options. Ever since he was little, I kept pretty girls around him. When he got older, I introduced him to every type of girl possible. But he's thirty now and has never dated anyone." Then she lowered her voice. "I think something's wrong with him. Like those billionaire guys in drama shorts. Maybe he only likes weird girls from the bad side of town." I just stared at her. Wow. Appreciate that. 'Did I just meet a crazy person?' I was about to say no when she shoved ten property deeds and a photo across the table. "Go seduce my son. If you pull it off, the ten properties are yours." I looked at the deeds, then the photo, and instantly decided to help this desperate but incredible mother. Forget something being wrong with him. Even if he liked men, I'd still make him fall for me. Thanks to Marianne pulling strings behind the scenes, I became the personal assistant to Jace Jensen, Bayford's golden boy. And the first thing he said when he saw me was, "How much did my mom pay you? I'll double it. Now get out." Two months later, the job was over, but Jace stood there with red eyes, crying. "How could you use me and throw me away? I don't care. You're taking responsibility for this."

Clara posted a photo of her ultrasound on Instagram. "Thanks to your bloodline, I finally have my own little pup." I stared at the ultrasound. Ryan's name was written clearly in the field for the father. I typed a single question mark in the comments. Ryan called me immediately, screaming his head off. "Celine, what the hell is wrong with you? Clara is dying from silver poisoning. This was her final wish! Can't you show some damn compassion?" "Kaleb was my brother. He's gone, and it's my duty to look after his mate! She just wanted a pup to keep her company in her final days. Do you really have to be this petty?" I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. Clara was Ryan's childhood sweetheart. They grew up together in the Dark Moon Pack before she married Ryan's best friend, Kaleb. Six months ago, Kaleb was killed by rogues during a border patrol, leaving Clara a widow. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with late-stage silver poisoning. She has at most a year left to live. But I never imagined Ryan's "care" would go this far. A little while later, Clara posted a new set of photos. She was in a luxury high-rise apartment downtown. The city skyline stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the kitchen was bathed in a warm glow. "So glad you're here to make me feel the warmth of a home again." In the photo, I saw a man's back as he busied himself in the kitchen wearing an apron. It was Ryan. The sight was so familiar it made my eyes sting. I rubbed my stomach, thinking about the pregnancy I'd confirmed just two weeks ago. I suddenly let out a sharp laugh. This mate bond? It's time to end it.

On my birthday—the same day Troy hyped some "surprise" for me online—I saw a photo that afternoon. He was on my horse. With his assistant. His shirt hung open, red finger marks dragged across his chest. Caption? [First time in my life. Thanks to him.] The comments went wild: [Jealous of whoever touched those abs.] [That position... damn.] Troy liked that one. My chest went cold. I thought that side of him was just for me. Turns out—it could be anyone. I washed the horse myself. Scrubbed off every trace. Then I signed the ranch over to him. "You can give the rest away. Pick whoever you want." He lit up. I said yes to the arranged marriage.

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

The day my husband, Lucas Maxwell, helps his childhood sweetheart—Cecilia Brown, who has cancer—lose her virginity, I leave behind a divorce agreement and walk away. Before I leave, I drop a comment beneath a photo of them on his social media. Their fingers are tightly interlocked in the photo. "Let's get divorced. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness." A minute later, he calls me. "How did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you, Fiona Sinclair? Do you really have the heart to let her die without leaving anything behind?" I sneer, "You're no longer my husband. How is that my problem?" That's when he panics.

Ethan Shaw had died. Before the funeral, his wife, Stella Walker, packed his belongings and found a thick photo album. [My True Love] On the cover, it said— She opened it. The photos inside were not of her. They were Rachel Chester—the girl Ethan had adopted years ago. Not only that, Ethan left all his wealth to her. Stella died with hate in her heart. When she opened her eyes again, she had returned to the night before she married Ethan. This time, she chose to live for herself and walked away from Ethan to pursue her own dream. What she did not expect was that, in this life, Ethan went mad looking for her when she left. He searched for her everywhere.

On the suit jacket her husband had just taken off, Hannah noticed a lipstick stain,one that definitely wasn’t hers. Yet at that very moment, her husband was clasping around her neck a one-of-a-kind gemstone necklace in celebration of their 7th wedding anniversary. Later, when she found a single strand of golden hair that didn't belong to her too, a seed of doubt quietly took root in her heart. Still, her husband's tenderness, his unwavering attention and love, made her question her own suspicions. Could she really be imagining things? Until she saw the photo on the phone— Her husband, in bed with another woman. He really had betrayed her! And that woman… was the friend she had trusted most.