Monkey D Luffy Bounty Novels & Stories

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

"Jump Isabelle" The voice commanded in her head "Jump" Tears trickle down Isabelle cheek as she stood on top of the parapet of the building "Jump" one move, one step and she was flying... falling to her death. Isabelle never took a glance at the sunsets because she always believe there's a storm after twilight,her parents were gone... taken,waiting to catch a glimpse of her parents she'd stayed still listening to everything and everyone. "Go get them,get them" the children danced ,free in their own world. "Go get them,get them" The children all waiting for their loved ones sang joyfully as the airplane descend. "Go get the,get them" They screamed,the airplane blowed up,and her nightmares started then, the hope dashing away without a ray of light to save it. "The death certificate was with you all along,why did you lie?" Isabelle mutter,staring straight into the eyes of the only man she'd ever trusted,the only man she'd ruined with her one single decision "why?" "I'll never let you go" "I'm in love with Ian not you" Isabelle move to the door "not you Xander" She'd dragged everyone into her own web of lies,the sister she'd vowed to died in front of her while the one she was link with By blood is slowly becoming an addict in front of her,a serial killer bent on destroying on her was slowly getting a way into her family,how will she conquer all the tribulations right in front of her?when will she open her curtains to look at the sunset. "Jump" Isabelle head hit the ground and everything vanished underneath her.

My daughter, who'd always hated the cold, suddenly started begging to vacation in the freezing Northern Territories. I dismissed it as a passing whim and told her no. I never thought she'd actually soak herself in a tub of ice for two days straight, just to prove she wasn't afraid of the cold. I gave in. I took her north. My mate, Cassian, stayed behind to handle pack affairs. The North was bitter. After only a few days, my daughter started showing signs of cold-sickness, coughing constantly. I wasn't going to gamble with her health. I decided to bring her home immediately. But my daughter threw a fit. At the time, I thought she just loved the North too much to leave. Until I happened to overhear her conversation with my husband, Cassian: "Daddy! These last few days in the North, I put scent-blocker in Mommy's water every single day! Aren't I clever? Now she'd never find out about you and Auntie Kayla!" "Mommy is so annoying, always nagging! I wish Auntie Kayla were my mommy instead!" I stood there cold, watching the cozy little scene inside the room, gripping the vial of scent-blocker I'd just dug out of my daughter's backpack — the drug meant to numb the link between Cassian and me. Fine. If they loved Kayla so much, then let them have her. I'd give them my blessing. So why, after I gave you everything you wanted, did the three of you end up on your knees begging for my forgiveness?

I was reborn on the day my parents forced me to swear a blood oath before the Moon Goddess. They wanted me to swear I'd give up my mate, Damien — hand him over to my sister, Vivienne. The first time around, I'd refused. I'd cried and fought and begged. I tried everything to make Damien see the truth. I pleaded with my parents to tell him the real story, to stop letting Vivienne impersonate me. All I got in return was Damien's deepening hatred. I'd run from the territory in desperation, trying to find Damien and explain face to face. I was ambushed by rogue wolves on the way. Left bleeding out in the dirt. With my last shred of strength, I reached out through the pack mind-link, begging Damien for help. His voice cut through my mind, cold as ice. "Drop the act. I'm done with your little sympathy plays." "Don't interrupt my Mating Ceremony with Vivienne." Then he severed the link without a second thought. I died alone in the wilderness. The last thing I heard was the distant roar of celebration from the pack territory — Damien and Vivienne's Mating Ceremony. This time, I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms. This time, I would never beg again.

Cade Jennings was always there for me when I needed him—until he wasn’t. I’d spent my entire life loving my best friend’s older brother. Every single one of my birthday wishes was spent hoping Cade would finally notice me. And then one day, he did. But not all love stories have happy endings. It's been years since I left the small town of Sutten Mountain devastated and heartbroken. I’d used the pain to fuel a bestselling novel that solidified I’d never have to return. Until tragedy struck, forcing me to face the man who shattered my heart. I thought I’d be strong enough to see him again. I didn’t expect the angry, broken man staring back at me. But the more time we spend around each other, the more I see glimpses of the man I fell in love with. His touch still owns me. His kiss still brands me. And even after all this time, the feelings I have for him still consume me. Cade and I are unfinished business, and this time, he’s not letting me leave until we rewrite our story.

I overslept by six hours on my wedding day. By the time I got there, my fiancée, Yvonne Burke, had already gone through the entire ceremony with her ex, Tony Cooke. I stood there, drenched in sweat. Yvonne just smiled and came clean. "I was the one who drugged you. Tony wanted a wedding ceremony. It's not a big deal, so I gave him one." Like she was afraid I'd make a scene, she added, "Be good. Next week, I'll get the marriage certification with you. Besides, throwing a fit now won't change anything. Look—even if he takes off the suit, it still won't fit you." My eyes landed on the groom. The suit he was wearing was the one I'd spent nearly six months picking out. Everyone held their breath, waiting for me to lose it. Instead, I felt a wave of relief. She should've told me sooner. I'd already been having second thoughts. My ex once said that if I ever dared get married, she'd show up in a wedding dress and steal me away. Looks like everything worked out perfectly. We both got what we wanted.

When Sylvia Reed postponed our wedding for the fifth time, I found a pregnancy test report in her bag and decided to force the issue. Then I saw a trending local post. A woman rolled up her sleeves, baking cookies. Beside her, a man bent down to tease a child. One look was enough. I recognized the scar on her wrist. It was in the exact same spot as the one Sylvia got years ago when she took a knife for me. The scarf draped over the man's shoulders was one I'd custom-made for Sylvia. Our initials were stitched into it. The sight burned. I thought about how Sylvia had been glued to her phone lately, and how I'd heard a baby crying through it. Ten minutes ago, she'd sent me a voice message. "Luke, something urgent came up at the company. I can't make it back to try on the suit with you. Maybe we should postpone the wedding again? Next year. We'll definitely do it next year." But I'd already waited seven years for this wedding. I took off my groom's suit and cut it to pieces. Then I wiped my eyes, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I hadn't called in seven years. "I'm short a bride for my wedding. Interested?"

Dad, I laughed quietly to myself. If you could see me now. You’d never think I’d ever be here. An actual werewolf sleeping at my feet? I’m really back in Jericho… Seems so silly, fighting you all these years and in the end here I am. Maybe you’d be happy. I don’t know. I like him... Elias. He seems like a great guy, maybe you'd like him too. Seriously, though, he's the alpha of your old pack. He seems dangerous and yet, he saved me. He seems to care about me, and maybe I'm silly for feeling it but I think I like him too. Six months ago Freya's father died, sending her to the bustling city of Jericho. Nearly kidnapped her first night and actually kidnapped her second she finds herself at the mercy of the mysterious Alpha Elias of the Hollow Moon Pack. Her attraction to him is hard to ignore but she wasn't born a werewolf. Her conflicting instincts to want to run and reject this pack are prevented why she finds out Elias has to be the one to reject her. Just seeing the way Elias looks at her, though, Freya can tell it will take some convincing to finally be free from him. Then again... does she want to be?

The past Day 159 after the first New Species were freed Joy tried to relax in the chair but worry over her client made her fidget. She glanced at the clock, noting he was late again. Minutes ticked by while her anger grew. It was the fourth session in a row that 466 had blown off. He did it on purpose. She knew he was going to be irate over what she’d done in retaliation but he’d left her with no choice. The loud sound of a menacing growl startled her. Her gaze flew to the door a second before it was thrown open. 466 hovered in the hallway, his rich brown hair messed up as if he’d dried it upside down with a blow dryer to give it that fullness. Rage showed in his narrowed, dark gaze. She guessed he’d been the source of the noise. He was pushed forward as one of the guards entered the office behind her client. “Here he is. He wasn’t happy but we got him.” The man shot a dirty look at 466. “Four of his men convinced him to come along or we would have had to drag his inside in shackles. He wanted to fight me.” She winced. “Please sit, 466.” “It seems I don’t have a choice.” He sauntered over to the chair in front of her desk and dropped his big body down hard enough to make the piece of furniture groan. “So much for saying we are free.”

"Lisbeth, you'd better agree to this divorce quickly! Otherwise, I'll make these photos public and let all your fans see how their beloved star with millions of followers was once molested by an old man!" "What?" Lisbeth Whitaker looked up in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. This was her husband of five years, who had cheated on her with the female caregiver she'd hired to look after him. Now he was resorting to blackmail to force her into a divorce so he could make room for his mistress!