Novel & Cerita M Rated Fanfic

During the holidays, I specifically go home to spend quality time with my family. Mom brings out a bowl of persimmons and says in a half-teasing manner, "This is for the Sherman family. Once you eat a persimmon, you'll be blessed with good luck. Outsiders aren't allowed to take from this bowl." Everyone begins fighting for the persimmons. I decide to grab one for myself as well. The next thing I know, the living room goes eerily silent. Dad drags me to the corner before he starts berating me. "You didn't get to eat any fruits when you were living with your in-laws, huh? Must you steal from our family? "Didn't you hear your mother saying that outsiders aren't allowed to take from the bowl? So why did you still take one? "Because of you, Vivian doesn't get anything at all!" I look around my surroundings. It turns out there are only eight persimmons when in reality, there are nine of us in the living room. Mom has been hinting at me the whole time that I'm the actual outsider here. So, I pass the persimmon to Vivian Andrews, my parents' goddaughter. Then, I dial my husband's phone number. "Kevin, there's no need to bring the holiday gifts over."

On Mother's Day, I take my mom to a hotel under my company for a vacation. We've just sat on a leather couch in the lobby for a short while when the supervisor-in-training, Jacob White, rushes over angrily and yanks us up to our feet. "This couch is meant for the guests who have applied for a VIP membership in this hotel! For broke tourists like you, you're welcome to stay in a cheap motel! Don't leech off the cool air generated by our air conditioners here!" My brows are knotted into a frown instantly. I'm about to declare my identity when Jacob shows me a bill and demands that I pay 1,500 dollars for a meal here. My expression goes dark immediately. "We've just arrived at the hotel, and we barely even have a sip of water here. Why should we pay 1,500 dollars for a meal here?" Jacob rolls his eyes at me before rapping his knuckles on the counter in an arrogant manner. "Those who stay at this hotel must pay this sum! We're serving fancy food here, you know! It's your business to consume it, but regardless, you still have to pay up!" Unable to endure Jacob's antics anymore, I tell him to call the manager over. But he sneers at me before pointing at his name tag. "This hotel belongs to my godsister! I'm the one who calls the shots in the entire lobby! No one can help you this time, regardless of who you lodge a complaint to!" I stiffen up on the spot. I'm the only son in this family, and my relatives never meddle with my hotel businesses. Who the hell is this so-called godsister that has usurped my position as the owner?

For as long as I can remember, my family and I have been living in an underground basement that's completely shut off from the outside world. My parents have told me that the zombie apocalypse is terrorizing the outside world. The air is completely plagued with the zombie virus, and we'll die if we ever leave the basement. In order to save the supplies—which are already dwindling, to begin with—I've starved myself to the point I'm all skin and bones despite being only 18 years old. When I realize that there's only one last can of food left, I leave behind a suicide note. "Mom, Dad, now there's one less mouth to feed. You'll last a few more days." After that, I slit my wrist right away. Once I'm dead, my soul phases through the thick and heavy metal door. Bright sunlight illuminates the entire world. It's a beautiful, peaceful world filled with greenery. I can even hear birds chirping in the distance. Mom, Dad, and a bunch of people are throwing a barbecue party on the lawn. The mouth-watering smell of food being grilled permeates the air. So, it turns out that the zombie apocalypse is just a lie that's designated to trap me inside the fortress. I'm the only one who has died in this sunny, peaceful world.

My mate, Theo Burke, dies in a fight. Our son, Jax Burke, has now lost his father. Liam Burke, Theo's twin older brother, consoles me by saying, "I will treat Jax like my own son." He keeps his word, taking excellent care of Mia Parker, his mate, and me. However, I happen to overhear a conversation he has with a witch, Agatha Rune. "Give me more of that potion that masks my scent. I can't let Olivia find out that I'm Theo." This is how I find out that my mate isn't dead after all. He has simply adopted Liam's identity and now spends every night in bed with Mia next door. In order to get an heir with a purer bloodline, he assumes the identity of his dead twin brother and breeds with Mia. What he doesn't know is that I'm the daughter of the most powerful Alpha King in the Southern Woodlands. As it stands, a far superior bloodline flows in Jax's veins.

On my 18th birthday, my stepmother, Sheila Coleman, teams up with her secret lover, William Lynch, to kill me in cold blood. After that, she carves my femur into a bone sculpture and presents it to my dad as a gift. Dad loves the sculpture to no end. Thanks to Sheila slandering me in the past, he doesn't give a damn about me at all, even after finding out that I've gone missing. In fact, he even declares that he wants to cut off all ties with me. "Don't bring that brat up in front of me from now on! I hope that she dies out there!" But when he finds out that I'm really dead, he goes crazy from remorse.

I've been married to billionaire CEO Christopher Hayes for two years, and only now does my ex, Benjamin Clarke, decide to propose. The rumble of engines echoes as a fleet of black trucks lines up neatly outside my private estate. The drivers unload box after box of gifts—luxury watches, fine jewelry, couture gowns, and even a grand piano. Standing proudly among the shower of rose petals, he announces, "Sienna, I told you—the only reason I had a child with my sister-in-law was because my older brother died in an accident, and she wanted to keep our family's bloodline alive. "The baby just turned a month old. I've fulfilled my promise to her, and now I've come to marry you!" I lounge in the heated pool, having just finished my postpartum recovery exercises, and I can't even be bothered to look at him. He knits his brows, and his tone turns patronizing. "I know you're upset, but you're the heiress of the Grant family; you have everything you could ever want! Why can't you show a little compassion for a widow who just lost her husband? "I know it was selfish of me to make you wait for two years, but I'm back now! Our wedding will be held in three days. I can tell you still care about me. If not, why would you greet me in such a revealing bikini?" His overconfidence makes me chuckle. "Guards, get him out of here! I'm trying to swim here." What a joke. I've just welcomed the heir of Hayes Group into the world, and Christopher has been insisting that I take our baby home to visit my parents. Yet, somehow, I end up running into this idiot.

In order to help my family take over the Vitales' casino that's based in North Melcina, I conceal my identity as the sole daughter of Don Leonardo Ricci and begin working as a dealer in Las Vogis. During my undercover mission, I get close to Mattia Vitale, the heir of the Vitales, on purpose. At the same time, I secretly get my hands on the Vitales' weak points. Not only does Mattia not realize my intentions, but he also showers me with love and affection. He doesn't hesitate to gift me jewelry worth millions of dollars. Sometimes, he surprises me with fireworks worth tens of millions of dollars. In fact, he once burns a contract worth a hundred million dollars just to light my cigarette. As I stand under the sky filled with fireworks in Las Vogis, I hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Hence, I reject my dad's decision to devour the Vitale family. I thought I finally found true love. But lately, Mattia hasn't been coming home that much now. He also grows colder toward me. In fact, he even announces to everyone else that I'm just his personal assistant at his family gathering. His excuse for hiding our relationship is that he's worried his family elders might target me. But what he doesn't know is that when he almost lost his net worth at the gambling table, I was the one who secretly swapped the cards, allowing him to make a victorious comeback. I plan on telling Mattia the truth on his birthday, and I've already drafted a business deal between my family and his as a surprise for him. But I end up witnessing Mattia being entangled with another woman from my position outside his office. That woman is Ginevra Bellini, the heiress of the Bellini family, a nouveau riche family that has earned their gold from real estate in North Melcina. The Bellinis are as wealthy and powerful as the Vitales, so to the Vitales, Ginevra is the most perfect and suitable marriage partner to Mattia. So, it turns out that Mattia has already labelled his love accordingly. I'm just the bargaining chip that he has chosen to discard after weighing the pros and cons. With a sneer on my face, I toss the contract into the shredder. Then, I call my dad's number. "Do it, Dad. Let's devour the Vitales."

As I walk out of the emergency room, a woman rushes over to me. "You're a doctor, right? My son scraped his knee. Hurry up and come treat him!" I am about to explain, but she glares at me and questions indignantly, "Isn't a doctor supposed to save people? You have time to slack off, but you have no time to treat my son's wound. Is that it?" She grabs my collar and drags me toward the ward. I try to explain, "Ma'am, I’m not—" But she doesn't listen at all and slaps me across the face. "Not what? Are you blind? Can't you see my son is bleeding? Instead of helping my son, you treat those poor nobodies! If you keep delaying my son's treatment, I won't let you off! "Get on your knees and apologize to him right now! Otherwise, I'll file a complaint and have your license revoked!" I endure the sharp pain and struggle to lift my head. In my five years of practicing medicine, this is the first time I have ever been complained about by a living person. "It's not that I won't treat him. I am a forensic pathologist..."

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.

My husband and his employees went on a camping trip, and his assistant posted on social media. [We drew lots for the tents, and guess who ended up with the handsome CEO!] The post showed a selfie she took. Behind her, my husband was taking his shirt off. Someone left a comment. [A man and a woman alone together? Sounds juicy.] The assistant quickly replied with a smirking emoji. [I like a little excitement!] After I liked the post, it was deleted right away. Soon, my husband called me on video. In front of his crying assistant and several employees, he scolded, “Why did you like the post?! It was just a game! Don’t be so close-minded!” As I watched him hold the assistant in arms and comforted her, I quietly hung up. After ten years of loving Caelan Sullivan, I decided then and there to let go.