My Muse Was A Monster 소설 & 이야기

Isabella had a perfect life. She had love, money, and a strong family name but on her birthday, everything broke. She finds her husband with another woman. Then she learns the truth, her marriage was a lie. He used her to take her company. He never loved her. In one night, Isabella loses everything. She runs for her life. She is hunted, shot, and left to die. But fate wasn’t done with her. Six months later, she wakes up in a new country with a new face. The world thinks she is dead. But a stranger saves her and gives her a new name, a new life. Now, Isabella is gone. A new woman rises. She has no power. No past. No fear. Only one goal—Revenge.

At the company’s year-end party, management tried to cut costs by using junk as raffle items. The prize box was filled with bottle caps, instant noodle wrappers, toothpaste boxes, and other trash. Everyone was only allowed to pick one item and scan the QR code on it. Whether you won anything depended entirely on luck. I casually picked up a bottle cap and unexpectedly won a car worth 500,000 dollars. As soon as the vice president found out, he rejected my win and demanded that I hand over the prize. “The company spent 20 dollars to get these raffle items from a recycler. Any prizes won have to be recorded in the books as company assets. They belong to the company.” My boss reprimanded me as well, “Have you lost your mind because you’ve been poor? Do you think you could have won without the company? You don’t know how to be grateful, and now, you’re trying to take company property. Stop causing a scene!” I did not argue and calmly handed over the bottle cap. Then, I turned around and called one of our clients. My boss had forgotten one thing: I was the company’s top salesperson. If he insisted on crossing me, I would make him lose five million.

TRIGGER WARNING : THIS BOOK EXPLORES HEAVY THEMES SUCH AS EMOTIONAL ABUSE, MANIPULATION, BDSM AND TORTURE, SEXUAL ABUSE, AND TRAUMA – AS WELL AS STRENGTH, RESILIENCE, AND THE WILL TO RECLAiM ONE’S POWER. IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE TO ANY OF THE THEMES MENTIONED, I ENCOURAGE YOU TO READ WITH CARE, TAKE BREAKS WHEN NEEDED, OR SKIP IF THIS BOOK IS NOT RIGHT FOR YOU AT THIS TIME. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. INTENDED FOR MATURE AUDIENCES (18+) ONLY. Blurb She was the price her father paid. He was the monster no one dared defy. Their marriage was never meant to feel like love – only like survival. Seraphina Houston, the strong-willed daughter of an Alpha Houston; a failing werewolf pack, never imagined her fate would be sealed by a contract… or by the cold hands of a Lycan king. When she’s forced to marry the powerful and ruthless billionaire, Leone Night, to clear her father’s debt, she becomes little more than a pawn in a brutal political game. From the moment she enters the Blackthorn Pack’s palace, Seraphina is silenced, ignored, and betrayed, used as nothing more than a vessel to fulfill a cursed bloodline. Her husband shows her no kindness, his twin brother taunts her with a past she barely escaped, and her only comfort lies in the arms of a gentle palace doctor who offers her something the others never could: a choice. But the deeper she sinks into the lycan world, the more secrets unravel. A mistress with a familiar face. A child with forbidden power. And a prophecy that ties her fate to both Lycan brothers… with deadly consequences. When the time comes to choose between survival, love, and freedom…will Seraphina continue to suffer in silence, or become the rebellion the monsters never saw coming?

Cent, short for Maleficent, recently found out that she is the daughter of the great demon Beelzebub when she got a pair of horns on her eighteenth birthday instead of a pair of skating shoes. She finally got her answer why she never once felt that she belonged, turns out, she is not entirely human. When her estranged dad came knocking to take her away from her wretched foster life, Cent grabs the opportunity to be with her only ‘living’ family. But, he is called the great demon for a reason. After disturbing her life, he drops her like a sack of potatoes in front of the gloomy gates of Transylvania Academy. She realized that before her great demon dad can accept her, she still needs to prove herself worthy. Does she have what it takes to carry the privilege as an only child of a great demon? Does she have what it takes to be a monster?

After days of torture at the hands of my family’s rival gang, they offered me one last phone call. I called my brother, Matteo. I just wanted to say goodbye—while I still had the chance. “What is it now?” he snapped. “Matteo, I—” He didn’t let me finish. “Fix your own mistakes. Until then, don’t call me again.” Death didn’t hurt as much as those words did. I felt my heart slow to a stop as my brother’s words echoed in my ears. I guess you’re finally at peace now, Matteo. I won’t bother you again. And you’ll never have to see me again.

Artie, a young innocent and cute girl who has never shared bed with any man is now the only target of this monster, Anu. Meet Anu whose life is unpredictable. Sometimes he transforms into a bat, sometimes to a lion. Would Artie develop feelings for this man? There's this Mike who's determined to separate these lovebirds as he swore to make Artie his no matter what!

When my sister, Cindy Saddler, and I perform our gymnastics routine, we both slip up. My spine snaps as I hit the ground. The pain makes my face go completely pale, and my life is hanging by a thread. But my mother and spotter, Cordelia Saddler, pushes me away in annoyance. "This isn't the time for you to fight with your sister for my attention. She's twisted her ankle! Go die if you want to die. Don't bother me!" Later, I die due to complications in the hospital, as she wishes. But after she finds out I'm dead, she goes crazy.

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…

I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.