Novel & Cerita Message Board Wattpad

Today happens to be Yvonne Ziegler's birthday. Yvonne is Shawn Jacobson's, my husband's, newly hired personal assistant. Shawn spares no expense in buying her a villa as a birthday present, and Yvonne haughtily takes to social media to show off on the day she moves in. "I'd like everyone to know that I'm married to a wealthy man now." Shawn comments on the post, saying, "Happy birthday, my beloved Yvonne!" In the picture, Shawn's hand rests intimately on Yvonne's slender waist, leaving no doubt about their intimate relationship. In that instant, the company's group chat erupts into a frenzy of notifications, as colleagues declare their envy of Yvonne and heap praise upon her for being young and accomplished. Oscar Jagger, my childhood friend, notices the picture and immediately tags me in the group chat. He then sends me a pointed, teasing message, saying, "Shawn's display of love is so glaring! Congrats on being cheated on, Leslie!" I manage a bitter, wry smile, taking my time to type out the response. "Do you need a villa as well, Oscar? I'm happy to give you a place—a much nicer one than Shawn's, of course."

My mom calls me on Friday. "Don't forget about tomorrow's family dinner. Cody loves shrimps, so you should buy more of those at the seafood market in the southern district. "Lexi loves lamb chops. Go take a look in the eastern district for them. Also, don't forget to buy the imported strawberries. Noah loves them a lot." I say yes to each and every request Mom makes. But as soon as I end the call, I receive a text on the family group chat. "I've already given Eileen a list of our favorite foods. It's tough for you to earn money these days, so you shouldn't buy anything." One second later, that message is deleted. Still, I'm flabbergasted by what I just read. I've been married for two years. Every Saturday throughout those years, I'm the one paying and organizing the family dinner of the week. I thought there's no need to be so petty when it comes to family. But it seems that they've already viewed me as the outsider a long time ago. In that case, I won't be attending the family dinner anymore.

My mom died giving birth to me. They couldn't save her. My dad? He dumped me outside a prison and ran. Didn't even look back. It was five degrees. I was basically frozen. Barely breathing. Later, a guard said the whole max block lost it that night. One hundred eight inmates—death row, life sentences—went crazy. Slamming doors. Smashing windows. Yelling they wanted to keep me. In the end, they filed a letter. Not a breakout plan. A custody request. Somehow... it got approved. From that day on, I had 108 dads. But growing up, I found out the truth. They weren't criminals. On paper, they were dead—killed in the line of duty. In reality, they were still out there, serving. Eighteen years later, I got into one of the top high schools—with the highest score in the State of Ashford. On the fifth day, I beat the rich girl, Vivian Cobbley, by one point on a mock exam. Next thing I knew, my name was all over the bulletin board: [Riley Ray, daughter of murderers!] Vivian cornered me in the bathroom and shoved my head into a toilet. "Your dads are killers. That filth's in you too." She beat me so hard I dragged her down when we went over the second-floor railing. When I woke up, the Dean of Students was right in my face, finger in my face. "No surprise you're violent. It's in your blood. Call your criminal dads. Now." I shook. "Mr. Todd... you sure you want me to call them?"

At the end of the year, I went to the spa and discovered a stranger had been using my VIP card. When I logged into my personal profile, the last three treatment records were not under my name. The preference section listed specific details about someone else. She was allergic to rose essential oil, preferred lavender, and her heating pad temperature could not exceed 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Her menstrual cycle fell around the 15th of each month, so no waist or abdomen treatments during that time. I stared at the screen, my palms turning cold. Only my husband, Zachary White, knew this password. At the time, he said he needed it to check the balance and renew my membership. I scrolled down and found a system note at the bottom: [Birthday treatment reserved for December 30, prepared according to Ms. Anderson's preferences.] Today was December 30. My phone vibrated. Zachary had sent a message: [Working late tonight. Won't be home.] Familiar laughter drifted from the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched Zachary walk into the adjacent room with his arm around a woman, the beautician hurrying forward to greet them. "Mr. White, we have Ms. Anderson's birthday treatment ready, just as you requested."

I spent four years pretending to be obedient by West Graham’s side. Four years ago, after the video of Nina Avery running over my younger sister was exposed, my boyfriend, Jake Smith, hired a top-tier defense attorney for her to clear her name. When I was completely alone, with no one to rely on, it was Nina’s stepbrother, West, who stepped forward and chose justice over blood. He found a lawyer for me and gathered witness testimonies and physical evidence everywhere he could. In the end, he personally sent Nina to prison. When everything finally settled, West proposed to me, and I said yes. However, in the fourth year of our marriage, I saw an email in West’s inbox. It was a birthday message from Nina, and attached was a selfie of her smiling brightly at the beach. In the bottom-right corner of the photo was yesterday’s date. [Happy birthday, West! It’s been four years since I received Erin’s sister’s heart. There haven’t been any complications at all. Thanks to you and Jake, I’m given a second chance in life.] West replied. [To make you happy, I’ll do anything.] After reading all of it, I smiled brighter than ever. It’s been four years, and their time to die has finally come.

Becca is the most conspicuous and considered interrogator in all of LA. She has the brutality, harsh and cold attitude that brings suspects to their knees but she lacks love, a family and real friends. Nineteen years ago, she was a victim of a tragic accident that took away her childhood memories. She doesn't remember at all her parents, sibling and relatives. Due to a jealous uncle, Dan, Becca lost her brother, was separated from her parents and lost her memory. She was taken in by an old Irish couple who found her unconscious at a tunnel, close to the train terminal. The couple raised her until she was nineteen then kicked her out for her misbehaviour. She became a bully to survive, only that she was never destined to be a bully. Dan used to bully her and her new unfound conscious took after his uncle in order to adapt. Xander, a doctor, claims he can restore her memory back in form of a video. Once she finds out the truth behind the accident, she opts to seek revenge and find her parents. Jeremy, a potential love interest, advices her against taking revenge on Dan but Marlon, another love interest, who is also in the case, advices to take the Mafia down. Black Mail as title is used to refer to dark news or message Becca receives and how she would respond to it.

I, Ginny Tremaine, have a written agreement in my mate contract with Tyler Kingsley, the chairman of the Werewolf Council. As long as I proposed to him 99 times first, he promised to personally show up at the Office of Werewolf Mate Affairs on the 100th time and complete our marking ceremony. However, Tyler doesn't show up on the promised day and instead appears on the main stage of the Silvernight Music Festival with his lover, Vivian Lowe. In the livestream watched by the entire pack, he leans down and kisses her so intimately that it's practically a declaration of ownership. The social media networks instantly erupt with excitement. "#ChairmanOfTheWerewolfCouncilOfficiallyRevealsMate." "Chairman of the Werewolf Council caught kissing his lover and showing PDA." At the same time, I become a trending search for standing in front of the Mate Affairs office for the 100th time. Everyone speculates about the identity of the mystery man who never showed up and wonders if I will try for a 101st proposal. Tyler, likely feeling guilty, promises me the next day, "Next time, I promise I'll be there on time." He arrives in a crisp suit with papers in hand, standing outside the Mate Affairs office. But all he receives is a short message from me, saying, "Alpha Tyler, there won't be a 101st proposal. We're truly over."

I've been in a coma for six months after a car accident. When I finally wake up, the first thing I hear is something sloppy in my hospital ward. My girlfriend, Quinn Simpson, is in here. She's kissing Chad Scott, her true love. Chad looks uneasy as he glances at me every few seconds. "Quinn, don't do this. I heard coma patients can still hear things. If Mateo hears us—" Quinn scoffs, completely unbothered. "So what? He's a vegetable. Probably won't wake up for the rest of his life. It's better this way, isn't it? Didn't you say you liked living on the edge?" They talk trash about me right in front of my face. I can even feel the contempt in Quinn's eyes. When the two of them finally leave, they don't notice the effort it takes for me to crack my eyes open. But the nurse who walks in next does. She sees it immediately and slams the emergency button. Once I start regaining strength, the first thing I do is send a message to my parents. "Mom, Dad, I'll do the arranged marriage."

On the night before Christmas, Aria Smith believes she is living the life she built with love, sacrifice, and quiet resilience. Married for eight years, a devoted mother to her eight-year-old daughter, and the primary provider in her household, Aria has learned to carry responsibility with grace. Her marriage may not be glamorous, but it is steady—or so she thinks. One dinner. One toast. One familiar promise. That is all it takes for her world to feel complete. Until a single message dismantles everything. What begins as an anonymous warning becomes undeniable proof that her husband has been living a double life, one funded by her success, hidden behind her trust, and thriving in the shadows of her marriage. As the truth unfolds through videos, transactions, and names she has never heard before, Aria is forced to confront a devastating reality: the man she loved is a stranger, and the life she believed in was built on a lie. With Christmas morning approaching and her daughter watching closely, Aria must decide what comes next: silence or confrontation, survival or transformation. But as the night deepens, it becomes clear that this betrayal is only the beginning, and the choices she makes now will change everything. The Night Before Christmas is a gripping emotional drama about marriage, deception, and the moment a woman realises her strength was never in question, only delayed.

Five years ago, her parents and their beloved sister died tragically in a car accident. She automatically becomes the sole heir of the fortune of an Alvin Mehram Claire. Also the father left a message which she thought was very strange. All guardianship, including custody of her as long as she is not old enough to hold power in the Claire Group, falls on her sister’s fiancé; Sebastian Sachdev Rendra Two people with different characteristics must unite to carry out what is stated in the will. As the years go by, one by one what is hidden is revealed, including the premeditated murder of Claire's family. Where she, Fathie Bernessia Claire, the sole heir is also threatened with her life. Until an event occurs that makes Sebastian feel she has failed to take care of Fathia. Almost handed over the power that had been held in the hands of the person who turned out to be the mastermind behind the Alvin Mehram family accident. At the same time, Fathia can't stay silent with the injustices that she just found out after being covered up for the past five years. She also works together to avenge the death of her family. Also met with Sebastian who she had loved since the beginning of the first meeting. Will she get justice? Or is the danger even more threatening for Sebastian's safety as well?