Muscle Growth Stories

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

My boyfriend has depression. To help cure him, I pass on the opportunity for a recital abroad. Instead, I accept commercial gigs so I can rake in the cash. After one performance, I see my boyfriend holding hands with a woman who looks like me in a private room. He wears a sharp suit and smiles so brightly that he doesn't even look ill. The people around him cheer and tease him. "You really are different with your true love back in the country. When are you two going to make things official?" "I heard you'd been dating another woman for seven years, though. Do you love her?" Charles Foster smiles indifferently. "I was just having some fun with her. Only an idiot like her would take me seriously." I sob with devastation while hiding behind a door. Suddenly, I feel like a fool for spending seven years with him. I call my mentor, who suggested that I take part in the international piano competition. "I will take part in the competition."

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

Due to one phone call, Carl Lorde left me behind in a deserted area on the highway, even though I had been pregnant for four months. I walked to a rest area to ask for help, but in the end, I was unable to keep the baby. I broke down and called Carl, but he kept rejecting my calls. The next day, his childhood friend posted an intimate photo of them lying side by side in bed, with a caption. [With just one call, you’d come over to my side no matter what.] Everyone was waiting for me, Carl’s girlfriend, to make a joke of myself. However, I just wiped away my tears, liked the post, and commented, [Congratulations, you two are a match made in the trash dump. I hope you rot in hell together.]

A young, beautiful she-wolf moves into the house opposite mine. She always strikes up conversations with me, her tone filled with enthusiasm. "You and Mr. Howl have such a great relationship. Even after seven years of marriage, he still kisses you goodbye when he leaves. It’s so sweet." She blinks playfully before continuing, "I have a friend who constantly complains about his mate. He says every time he kisses her, it feels like he's kissing a fat pig. Her scent disgusts him, and he can't even get hard when she's around. "And at night… just the sight of her belly rolls and sagging skin makes him want to throw up." I don’t particularly like this she-wolf, but I still offer her a polite smile. That night, however, when my mate kisses me, he suddenly freezes—then pushes me away and runs to the bathroom to vomit.

After my death, my parents sign an organ donor consent form on my behalf. They have my corneas removed and transplanted onto their beloved adoptive daughter, Grace Lane. She later marries my brother, and they become a true family. Grace and I competed over everything in life, yet I ended up dying with nothing. Now that I've been given a chance to start over, I decide to live life without them. Surprisingly, I find myself getting a happy ending.

A deal between families forced my Fiancé Marco Corvini to marry me. My parents were dead. His obsession was Isabella Falcone, the princess of our rivals. In the end, Marco devoured my family’s empire and threw me to the wolves. He paraded Isabella on his arm like a prize he’d won. Twenty years later, I was on my deathbed. My own son—our son—held the poison. He said I was useless, that his father needed the Falcone family’s power. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day of my blood oath. This time, to save my family, I didn’t sign my name on the pact. I signed hers. Isabella Falcone’s. As for me? I took the fortune my parents left me and disappeared. This time, I wouldn’t be the fool bleeding for a man who was never mine.

Ethan Shaw had died. Before the funeral, his wife, Stella Walker, packed his belongings and found a thick photo album. [My True Love] On the cover, it said— She opened it. The photos inside were not of her. They were Rachel Chester—the girl Ethan had adopted years ago. Not only that, Ethan left all his wealth to her. Stella died with hate in her heart. When she opened her eyes again, she had returned to the night before she married Ethan. This time, she chose to live for herself and walked away from Ethan to pursue her own dream. What she did not expect was that, in this life, Ethan went mad looking for her when she left. He searched for her everywhere.

In my last life, I secretly slipped a Love Potion into the cup of my destined mate, the Alpha of my pack, Jason Green. As expected, he fell in love with me. We held the grandest mate-bonding ceremony in our pack's history and became the couple everyone envied. The effects of the Love Potion would last seven years. I naively believed that it would be enough to win his true heart. But Jason's childhood friend, Lilian Foster, traded her own tongue to a black-market witch for the antidote. The moment the truth was exposed, the love in Jason's eyes turned into a hatred that pierced through the bone. He sold me to the black market as a live test subject for experiments and forced me to drink a Corrosive Spellvial. My insides rotted away, and I died from sheer pain. Now, I had regressed in time, once again holding that same bottle of Love Potion. This time, I didn't hesitate. I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it?

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable. I had three deadly protectors watching my back. My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit. He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown. My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids. And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else. He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld. On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything. Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero. And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has." They wanted me to confess to my brother’s fabricated crimes and apologize to Chiara. But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system. I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.