Romans & histoires My Thomas Story Library Thomas

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.

My best friend said she was just protecting me from bad men. So every time I started dating someone new, she would turn herself into his dream girl. She'd flirt, chase him, and seduce him until she ended up in his bed. And every time, she'd send me the photos. Always with the same cheerful caption: "Bestie! If I hadn't tested him, you'd be heartbroken again. Aren't I good to you?" I was tortured, broken, humiliated. Eventually, I cut her off completely and moved to another city. Then I met the man I thought was my true love—Liam. He was kind, devoted, and loving. I thought I could finally be happy. On my wedding day, I found Madison standing in my dressing room, disguised as my makeup artist. She smiled at me, just like she used to. "Don't worry, bestie," she whispered. "Let me test this one for you. Then you can marry him." She drugged me, then put on my wedding gown and got into bed with Liam. But I woke up in time. I burst into the room with our families. I caught them together. Later, I got pregnant. During labor, I hemorrhaged. Liam watched me bleed and refused to sign the emergency consent form. "Madison just wanted to give herself to me before our wedding—to fulfill her wish," he said coldly. "You humiliated her. You drove her to suicide. She died carrying my child." "You and the bastard in your belly deserve to die too." That was when I realized—the man I loved had already fallen for my best friend. I died in agony. My ashes were thrown into a ditch. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. On my wedding day. And Madison was standing right in front of me, pretending to be my makeup artist.

The morning of my wedding, my own sister locked me in a bathroom stall. The boy I had sponsored out of poverty couldn't bear to see my fiancée standing alone at the altar, so he stepped up and married Lillian Gates in my place. My sister was so moved that she claimed him on the spot as a brother and let him complete the marriage alliance with the Gates family in my name. My fiancée said, "Silas, you healed my legs. I love you. I respect you. But Liam and I have already registered our marriage. From here on, one of you is my husband, and the other is my boyfriend. Things between us can stay the same… alright?" I slapped her across the face. What she did not know was that her legs were never fully healed. In seven days, without my brace, she would be unable to walk again. What she also did not know was that my sister–so certain of her schemes–had never even seen our parents' will. So what made her think the company had been left to her?

Six months pregnant with my fated Alpha’s heir, I came home. And ran straight into my Beta ex at the airport. Kyle’s icy gaze raked over my swollen belly, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Amelia. I never thought you’d sink this low. Trying to trap me with a bastard.” “You think you can just secretly have my pup, and I’ll bond with you? Make you my mate? Dream on!” He took a step closer, his scent thick with threat. I said nothing, meeting his glare without flinching. Contempt flashed in his eyes. “I told you before. Only pure-blooded Selena can give me an heir. That half-breed mutt in your belly? I’ll never claim it! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get rid of it yourself!” When I didn't give him the reaction he wanted, he jerked his chin at the two wolves behind him. They tensed, ready to take me by force. "Since you refuse to handle this, I'll handle it for you," he snarled. "And if this ruins my chance to join the Blood Moon Pack, you are dead." I had to bite back a cold laugh. Little did he know, the pup he was trying to kill was the heir of Alpha Ethan—the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. He was the one who was truly dead.

My so-called best friend pretends to be me and steals my identity as the CEO. She spends money recklessly and announces she'll buy apartments in the city for our long-time employees. Everyone praises her as the perfect boss. Not only that, but she also steals my husband. Even my son calls her "Mommy". So, when I'm accused of having bipolar disorder and other mental health issues, no one speaks up for me. My young son has no idea that I am his birth mother. The company and assets my parents have left me have been taken by my best friend, too. In the end, my body ulcerates, and I pass away in a psychiatric hospital. When I open my eyes again, I realize I'm back on the day my best friend used my money to buy apartments for our employees. She stands in the center of the crowd, taking in all the praises. "You're beautiful and so is your heart, Ms. Moore! You care about us so much, always handing out bonuses. And now, you want to set up a fund to help us buy homes? I'd work for you until I die!" And so, I quietly change the password on the bank card that funds all this. This time, I'll make sure my dear friend and my beloved husband experience the "wonderful" life they truly deserve.

My mother has volunteered at our neighborhood church for over a decade. Christmas drives, Sunday service, any neighbor in trouble, she's the first one there. Everyone says God sent her to us. She thinks so too. She says God wants her to be generous, so she is. The thing is, when no one's watching, the generosity always comes out of my pocket. After she remarried, she doted on my half-sister Serena. Serena picked up a box of cold medicine for her, and Mom handed Serena the keys to my Tesla. Serena mentioned she needed to renew her car insurance, and Mom wired her the surgery fund I'd been saving for two years for my daughter Emma. That afternoon, Emma collapsed on the floor, lips turning blue, gasping for air. Her medicine was crushed into the carpet. Mom fished the last pill out of her pocket and dangled it in front of me. "Apologize to your sister, and I'll give Emma the pill." I got on my knees. But that same day, she gave away the cardiology appointment I'd spent three months getting. She gave it to Serena. What she didn't know was that the name on the appointment was her own.

I decided to die on my 28th birthday. It was not suicide but homicide... by my dear sister, Susan Bruno. I had always known that she would kill me. I told my older brother, Barry Bruno, and he said, "Charlotte, don't always think so badly of Susan." I told my fiancé, Calvin Simmon, and he said, "You're making up a story to draw attention again." Hence, I decided to give them the evidence they wanted most—a corpse. I installed seven cameras, set up an automatic sending program, and wrote a farewell letter. I left clues for the killer, bait for Susan, and a time bomb for my family. Today, Susan texted: [Charlotte, Dad has something for you at the safe house.] I replied: [Coming.] Before leaving, I checked my to-do list one last time. Everything was checked off, except for one thing: death. I would die. They would never know that the moment my heart stopped beating... the countdown to revenge had only just begun.

“And the night we met again,” I whisper, “my wolf recognized you.” Silence. “Recognized me how?” she asks carefully. My chest burns even as my pulse thunders in my ears. “As my mate.” The word falls between us like shattered glass. Avara laughs. “That’s not funny.” “I know.” “You’re my brother.” “I know.” I find myself inching closer… closer. “That’s impossible. This is sick.” “I know,” I say again, voice breaking now. “I fought it. Gods, I fought it. I tried to convince myself my instincts were wrong, that my wolf was broken, that I was losing my mind.” Her hands shake. “Stop.” “I can’t,” I say hoarsely. “Because every second I’m near you, it gets worse. Because my wolf wants to kneel at your feet and tear the world apart to protect you.” Avara stands abruptly, backing away until her spine hits the wall. “You’re lying.” “I wish I were.” …………………………… Fifteen years after vanishing from the Silvermoon pack, Kaeden Vane returns, older, lethal, and right on time at thirty-three, the age decreed by the Moon Goddess for succession, having spent years years amassing forbidden knowledge, mastering dangerous magic, and preparing to destroy his father, the man who murdered his mother in a bid for godhood. His return reunites him with Avara Vane, his seemingly fragile, human adopted sister that Silas, their father, adopted as an ‘act of mercy’. She is a Nyxarel, whose parents were slaughtered by the man she calls father and who has been conveniently placed and subdued by his father, until it is the right time to use her blood to attain immortality. And one touch is all it takes for Kaeden’s wolf to recognize her as his mate, an impossible, unforgivable bond…

During a road trip with my girlfriend, we accidentally collided with a limousine. Just as we were joking about having to pay an outrageous sum in compensation, the owner stepped out of the car. He greeted us warmly, asked if we were hurt, and even insisted we didn't need to pay a dime. But that simple gesture sparked a huge misunderstanding in my girlfriend's mind. At the proposal ceremony, she flat-out rejected me, ran to the restroom, and called her best friend to vent. "They're both Vanders, but Josh is a penniless loser, and Alexander is the richest man in the city! "The fortune teller said my true love's surname is Vander. If that's the case, why can't it be the richest man instead of Josh? "I looked it up. That car owner is Alexander. And he didn't even want me to pay for rear-ending him. He must have fallen in love with me at first sight! "In love, there's no such thing as first come, first served. I won't accept Josh's proposal. I'm going to marry the richest man!" A shiver ran through me. My years of devotion to her had moved only me. What she didn't know was that the 'richest man' she was dreaming of marrying wasn't anyone else—he was my father.

When my grandpa fell gravely ill and needed treatment abroad, the elders in the family decided to choose a junior to accompany him. They picked my cousin, but my mom tearfully pleaded with me to take her place. "You're a doctor. Caring for your grandfather is second nature to you. Bianca is an orphan, frail and delicate. She can't handle such a grueling task." To save her distress, I agreed to go in Bianca Pittman's stead, embarking on a five-year stay abroad. When my grandpa finally recovered, I boarded a flight home, eager to reunite with my family. But as I landed, a post on my mother's social media froze me in my tracks. [My daughter is getting married! Thank you all for your blessings!] But I was her only daughter. I couldn't help but wonder who she was referring to.