Milk Princess Novels & Stories

I go into business with my childhood friend, Ian Ziegler. The business is a success, earning 1.2 million dollars in profit. Ian gives me my share—a whopping 5,000 dollars. Noticing my dissatisfaction, Ian puts his arm around my girlfriend, Nina Foster, and tosses the keys to his Bentley onto the table. "What, is five grand too little for you? Fine. Since you're so broke, I'll give you a chance to turn things around for yourself. There's going to be a soccer game tonight. We're both going to place our bets. If you win, you can get all 1.2 million, plus my car. "But if you lose, your girlfriend's mine. You'll also have to get on your knees and lick my shoes right here in front of everyone." Everyone else in the room cackles gleefully, eager to watch me humiliate myself. Smirking, I nod. "Sure. I'll take that bet." These people have no idea that five years ago, I'd single-handedly taken down the Northwest Aravian illegal soccer betting circuit. I'd set a trap for a match-fixing syndicate, beating the crooks at their own game. I'd walked away from that life after that. But now, Ian has seriously decided to challenge me to a soccer bet?

During a public lecture on derivatives, I hurl my water bottle hard at the blackboard. Under the stunned gazes of the professor and my classmates, I stand up and say, "Seriously? Is there a need to explain a problem this simple? Move on to the next one. How did you bunch of idiots get into the accelerated program? How are you even worthy of sitting in the same classroom as me?" I turn my head and see my mother, who is standing outside the classroom to accompany me as I attend the lecture. She has a pleased and approving look on her face. A reporter sitting in the back quickly points the camera at me. I smile and call out toward the door, "Mom, I need to pee. Come take me to the restroom."

Was It a curse to be mated to the three most powerful, narcissistic Alphas of the werewolf clan? * Sophia was once a princess of the Fae Kingdom, on her way to becoming the queen once her father stepped down from the throne. Her heart was hardened against the werewolves; their natural enemy, and she was in charge of ensuring their entire species was reduced to ashes. Not until the werewolf joined forces with the vampires and triumphed over them during war. Homeless, hungry and orphaned, Sophia is forced to work as a slave for the enemies, all the while harboring revenge for them in her heart. But just when she was going to take action, the Moon goddess decides to toy with her a bit, and she realizes that she had been fated to the three Alphas of the werewolf clan. Not only that, she would have to bear their heir, acting as the surrogate than their true mate since they didn't accept her whole heartedly. What was the Moon goddess thinking?

I got back from a six month work trip and found my pet hamster dead. I couldn't just bury it. I wanted to preserve it, keep it whole. But when I carefully opened it up, I went still. Its lungs were pitch black. That kind of damage couldn't happen fast. It meant months of breathing toxic smoke. But my husband and I never smoked. So who'd been living in my house while I was gone?

When I see Reese Chapman again, it is exactly three years after I sever our mate bond. It is also the third year since I completely seal my wolf and hide at the edge of the Shadow pack territory, living as an insignificant healer. Tonight, the air in the clinic feels heavy and icy under his overwhelming aura. He carries a lightly injured female companion in his arms and forcibly takes over the best VIP ward in the clinic. During my shift, he summons me three times through his guards. The first time, he coldly orders, "There are wolfsbane fragments on the bedsheets. Change them." I send an apprentice herbalist to handle it. Two hours later, he has a nurse relay another order. "The smell of medicine is too strong. Change it again." I suppress the urge to suddenly break down and arrange for someone to take care of it. At 2:00 am, he reaches me through our mind-link. "The sheets are dirty. Come up and change them." I instinctively block him and refuse calmly. "Sorry, Alpha Reese. The staff responsible for cleaning have already gone to rest." In the darkness, a cruel chuckle comes from the man. In a tone that allows no refusal, he murmurs, "Then you come and change them yourself."

[The story about my son cutting ties with us is all an act. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no way my daughter would have willingly handed over the money!] During the long holiday weekend, I was killing time at my desk when I randomly clicked on a Reddit post. Maybe it was because I also had a younger brother who had cut ties with the family. The night he slammed the door and left, my parents seemed to age ten years overnight. From that day on, I became their only source of support. Every month, I send them five hundred dollars for living expenses. Even when I wasn’t feeling well, I forced myself to work. Meanwhile, the post kept updating. [I raised her for over ten years. What's wrong with spending some of her money? Her brother is still short of fifty thousand dollars for the down payment on his house. We need the money before the holiday ends.] I wanted to keep reading, but my manager called me into a meeting. That evening, while we were having dinner, Mom spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. “Your father and I need to discuss something with you, sweetheart…” My heart skipped a beat. For some reason, the last line from that post flashed through my mind. [I'll just tell her the business is in debt and that we need her money. She's always been a good child. She'll surely do what I ask.] “Mom… you and Dad aren’t in debt, are you?”

At 11:00 pm, I've just locked my car and am about to walk away when rows of bright red comments appear right in front of my eyes. "Warning! Your husband, whom you're still in a 30-day cooling-off period with, wants to kidnap you! He'll take nudes of you while livestreaming the entire process before mutilating you into chunks and flushing you down the sewers!" "Well, this gold digger keeps swindling money from her husband while toying with his feelings relentlessly. Now, she even wants a portion of his assets by getting a divorce from him. Serves her right for being a target of revenge!" I'm left feeling shell-shocked. After all, I'm single as a Pringle. How the heck did I even have a husband, to begin with?

On the day we chose our college majors, the influencer who was the school's heartthrob held a livestream and announced that he had decided to lead the anti-rat-race movement and would choose to attend a vocational college. The whole class followed him. Seeing the rapidly increasing number of followers, he smiled smugly. "They can do these low-class jobs if they like. I'll change my choice back to Harvard University at the last minute." I tried to dissuade him, but this would cause network congestion. My girlfriend slapped me. "You nerd! Who are you to tell our idol, Zach Simpson, what to do?" In my previous life, I spent half an hour dissuading them, and only then did the students change their college choices. However, Zach failed to change his application due to network lag and was admitted to a vocational college instead. He could not bear the blow and jumped into the river to commit suicide. The students who had entered prestigious universities collectively vented their anger on me. At the class reunion, they poured 99 bottles of beer down my throat and locked me in the karaoke's freezer. "Who cares about the prestige of a prestigious university? You'll just be working for someone else after graduation anyway!" "Why did we follow Zach in the first place? Wasn't it to break this damn rule?" "Zach was leading us to realize our dreams! If you hadn't interfered, I would already have gone to a vocational college with him!" They spoke disdainfully of prestigious universities, yet not one of them chose to drop out. I froze to death in a dark, cold freezer, my eyes wide open. Years later, they became elites in their respective fields, while my parents could only weep looking at my portrait. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Zach was livestreaming in the classroom. This time, I promised I would not interfere. Instead, I wished them a happy vocational college experience.

Five months after my husband, Ian Goldman, is declared dead, my mother-in-law takes me to the hospital. She registers me for an induced abortion. With reddened and tearful eyes, she tries to persuade me to terminate my pregnancy. She says, "Sofia, he's gone. You have to move on with your life. End the pregnancy now, and I'll find you a good husband." I clutch the consent form in my hand without saying a word. Then, all of a sudden, a childish voice rings in my ears. "Mom! Don't get rid of me! Dad isn't dead at all!" I freeze like I've been hit by a bolt of lightning. The abortion form slips from my fingers and falls to the floor. "Dad is at the care center in the suburbs of the city. They're almost done brainwashing him into becoming someone else's husband! In our previous life, you believed Grandma and never went to find Dad. I was never born. "When Dad eventually learned the truth, he almost lost his mind!" Without a second thought, I rush to the care center with my heavily pregnant belly. Just as a nurse stops me outside a training room, I see a woman holding Ian's hand. She is speaking to him in a gentle voice. "Don't be nervous, Captain Goldman. You can only start over once you forget the people from your past." I lift my foot and kick the tightly shut door wide open with a loud bang.

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.