Mobi Check Novels & Stories

My husband, Leon Hobbs, calls me to tell me that his grandma, Phoebe Reid, has forgotten to bring her blood pressure medication, so he wants me to deliver it to her. "Hurry up, Elsie! Grandma's blood pressure is spiking again! You're the one who's closest to her right now!" With the medication in hand, I've just reached the corridor when comments pop up on my phone out of nowhere. "Don't go! The old lady will die in the living room ten minutes after you enter the apartment!" "The blood pressure medication has been swapped out for poison, and your prints are on the bottle! Everyone will think that you're the one who poisoned the old lady!" "Your husband and your mother-in-law have left the apartment purposefully so that you'll be the only one facing the old lady's corpse! Then, they'll use the assets that you and the old lady have left behind just to buy a new home for your husband's pregnant mistress!" I remain rooted to the spot as I stare at the bottle of medication. Leon had passed it to me last night, claiming that it was a bottle of newly prescribed medication. He wanted me to keep it for Phoebe for the time being. My fingerprints are all over the bottle at this time. Three seconds later, I turn on my heel and head toward the nearest pharmacy. Then, I place the bottle of pills on the counter. "Please help me check whether or not this bottle of medication fits the label."

My family's mall was running a major New Year's Eve event. My father, the chairman, sent me to oversee the floor as a shareholder. That night, the crowd built past capacity, and a stampede broke out. I was at the bottom of a pile, suffocating. My boyfriend, an executive at the mall, was reaching past me. He was lifting my best friend out of the crowd. She didn't have a scratch on her. He cradled her and disappeared down the corridor. The comms earpiece on my headset stayed on. His voice came through it. "Vivian, are you okay? How could you listen to her? How could you let her drag you somewhere this dangerous?" "Don't worry about her. She’s built tougher than you—she can take it. But you... You’re too delicate to be marked by scars." They got Vivian out. I had a broken rib and was admitted in critical condition. After the dust settled, I asked Cole why he hadn't prioritized me. He looked me in the eye. "Mall events are managed. Look at you. You're fine. This is my promotion window. You're my girlfriend. If I had pulled you out first, that's favoritism. Don't make a scene. Go check on Vivian. She was scared half to death." I tightened my fist under the blanket. I called my father. "Dad. The stampede at Hartline Mall. I'm calling the hearing myself."

More than a dozen institutions are competing for the technology that my younger sister, Harper Prescott, created in her research project. I return to the country just to host a college send-off party for her. But when I reach home, I find Harper being hung from a helicopter like a kite. Panicking, I run forward to save her, but a haughty rich woman blocks my way. "How dare she steal my precious niece's scholarship? This is her punishment!" I personally selected that scholarship from over a dozen institutions. How did it become her niece's? Seeing Harper's face turn purple as she falls unconscious, I demand they bring her down. The woman throws a 100-thousand-dollar check at me and says, "I'd like to see who dares to let her down. Take this money as payment for your sister's life. The three Simmons brothers are my sons. Not to mention the life of a nobody like her, even with you included, I can still afford it!" I am enraged! The three Simmons brothers are just poor students whose education I funded. Three years ago, I went abroad for my medical treatment and let them manage the company for me. I never expect them to use the power I gave them to let others bully Harper and me. Very well. I take a deep breath and call the three of them. This time, I will let them know who really rules in Southford.

Maximilian McTavish is a 35-year-old billionaire who seems to have the world in the palm of his hands, but his life comes crumbling down when he catches his fiancée in their bed with another man. Hurt and angry, he closes off his heart and himself from the notion that he'll ever find love again. He occupies himself with his work, putting women and dating aside, until one weekend his best friend, Paxton, takes him on a trip to Las Vegas, where he invites him to a private party. There he meets an extraordinary girl, Meredith Carver. *********** Meredith Carver is a 20-year-old waitress who dropped out of college to take care of her sick mother. She is barely making two ends meet, but her luck changes after her best friend's Sugar Daddy offers Meredith a job as a bartender that caters to the rich and famous. One night, while serving at one of those prestigious events in Las Vegas, she meets 35-year-old Max. They spend a steamy night together and she wakes up the next morning to an empty bed with a check on the night stand and a thank-you note. Feeling cheap and used, Meredith keeps the encounter with this Max a secret until a week later, when he finds her with a contract and an offer she would be a fool to refuse. He wants her to be his Sugar Baby. He promises to pay her five million dollars. Half now and half when he chooses to end the contract. Will Meredith sign the contract, or will she let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity pass her by?

My boyfriend has always doted on me. However, after learning that I can't go to work at the bank after falling and injuring myself, he snaps at me. "Why didn't you tell me you switched shifts with someone else? That was a cheap move!" I don't refute him. Instead, I pull out a hospitalization record as I watch the bank descend into chaos. In my past life, I attended to a couple who wanted to deposit five million dollars into their account. Their child had been diagnosed with a rare illness. They'd gotten the money by selling their organs and mortgaging the home—it was to save their child's life and pay for the surgery the following day. However, the money was stolen the following day. I helped them check where the money was withdrawn, but the surveillance footage showed I was the one who did it. My best friend wept when the couple questioned me. "You shouldn't have stolen the money someone needed to save a life, no matter how materialistic and covetous you are!" My boyfriend hurried over and said, "I wondered why you suddenly had money to buy a car—you stole it! You're heartless!" The child died after failing to receive treatment in time, and the couple stabbed me to death on the streets out of devastation. When I open my eyes again, I think injuring myself will help me escape this. To my surprise, the surveillance cameras once again capture me stealing the money.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Being a Vampires pet is a fate no Human wants to endure… I was 6 years old when my parents were killed and I was taken to the pet store. A 6 year old cannot make choices for herself, so why am I punished for something my parents did? This question haunts me. Instead of playing outside with other kids, I was groomed and trained to obey my Master… I was to be the perfect pet. A maid, a sexual partner, a nurse, a blood bag… Anything my Master wanted, that was what I was expected to give. Obedience… That is what the Ringmaster prided herself on with her selection. She didn't get so lucky with me. Madame Vienna and I clashed hardcore. I learned quickly not to speak out of turn, but it didn't stop me from throwing a snarky remark here and there when I felt that I was healed enough to handle another punishment. This may be the only reason I lasted so long without being sold. But my time had come. I was on display for the world to see. Tattered and torn, but it didn't seem to matter to the man with the rose gold eyes who made the Vampires tremble without even saying a single word… What kind of creature was he to cause this type of reaction in an apex predator? I clenched my eyes shut as he brought me to the counter to check out. "Come, Ambrosia." The man purred after a moment. Shaking, I followed him, trying to take in any and every small detail of the outside world… "You can do this. Pretend it's just a bad dream… You know how to survive." I whispered to myself, as I followed my new Master to what was sure to be my death.

I was two hours late to check out our future home. By the time I finally rushed in, my fiancé, Daniel, had already signed the paperwork. He and my best friend, Gina, were huddled over the floor plans with their heads together as they debated over the interior design. They went from discussing the layout of the gaming room to the nursery. They continuously bickered over whether the master en-suite needed a freestanding tub or not. A middle-aged couple standing nearby smiled warmly at Daniel. "Renovating your first home, huh?" the husband chimed in with a wink. "Take it from me, son, always let your wife have the final say." Daniel let out an awkward cough as his eyes drifted to Gina, whose cheeks had instantly flushed a soft pink. "Alright, fine," Daniel muttered, giving in with a grin. "We'll get the tub." I stood just a few feet away, watching them decide every single corner of my future home. The three of us had grown up together. When we were kids, they were the ones who picked the schools and told me where we were going. When Daniel and I started dating, every date night and vacation was planned by them. I just showed up. And now, even with my own future house, it felt like my only job was to wait for their final memo. For years, I had lived like a shadow to the two of them. Shadows didn't have voices. They just followed silently, a step behind. But even shadows would get tired. And sometimes, on a bleak, overcast day, a shadow would stop and refuse to take another step forward.

The day before the wedding, I go to the bridal shop to pick up my custom wedding dress. The clerk informs me apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ms. Stone. Yesterday, a woman called Ms. Lovelett came and picked up your dress." My best friend, Sherry Lancelot, suddenly remembers something. "Isn't that the surname of your fiance's secretary? He's so thoughtful. He had your dress picked up in advance for you." But in the next second, Mary Lovelett posts a social media update. In her photo, she is wearing my one-of-a-kind custom wedding dress that is worth hundreds of millions and posing coquettishly in front of the camera. The caption reads, "Zachary is the best boss in the world. I casually said I wanted to take some portraits. He generously bought me a globally limited outfit for a photoshoot so that I can take the photos to my heart's desire!" I look at the post and reply coldly, "That's the wedding dress I personally chose for myself. Since when did it become your photoshoot outfit?" The post is deleted instantly. My fiance, Zachary Everdon, calls me angrily. "What nonsense comment was that? I just lent your stupid dress to Mary for a bit. It's a cheap, one-time thing anyway. I can buy you a dozen more to make up for it." I let out a cold laugh and record the call. Then, I send him a screenshot of the 200 million dollars purchase record. I say, "Sure. Will you pay by check or by direct transfer? Hurry up. Once you pay, we're calling off the engagement."

I was a human girl raised in turns by vampires, elves, and werewolves. To repay them, I signed a three-year repayment contract with all three races, dividing my time and service among their leaders. When the vampire count was weakened by sunlight, I cut open my wrist and let him drink my blood. When the elven prince's Tree of Life began to wither, I stepped into the forbidden forest and traded ten years of my life with a witch in exchange for spring water that restored the tree to full vitality. When the werewolf Alpha's wolf spirit grew restless, I searched for the herbs that could soothe him. I always knew my place, and I never crossed the line. The vampire count sneered at me. "Leah, you're more obedient than the blood servants I keep. The moment I summon you, you offer your wrist on your own." The elven prince warned coldly, "This is only a transaction. Once the Tree of Life recovers, you will leave as agreed. Don't imagine I would ever make an exception for you." The werewolf Alpha tossed a check at my feet. "This is your contract fee for the next three years. It's enough to last you a lifetime. Don't forget this. You haven't been marked, so don't overstep." Later, I finally repaid everything and prepared to return to the human world. The vampire count was willing to stand under the burning sun just to make me stay. The elven prince threatened to destroy the Tree of Life if I left. The werewolf Alpha dropped to one knee and presented me with the Luna's crown. In unison, they said, "You're not allowed to marry anyone else."