Naruto Cheat Ability Fanfiction Novels & Stories

As I lean into the arms of my sexy gym trainer, I randomly come across a forum post that displays my home's coordinates in its IP address. "Everyone, what should I do if I've accidentally ruined my boss' husband's luxurious custom-fitted suit when I was washing it earlier? I'm just an assistant, so there's no way I can afford to pay for it!" At first glance, I can tell that the post is made by Archie Carter, the personal assistant of Valerie Henderson, whom I've married via a marriage alliance. Someone leaves a scathing comment in the post. "What else can you do? Cough up the payment, of course! What's the point in making this post?" "You call yourself an assistant when in reality, you're nothing but a pretentious phony! You think you can get away with making mistakes just by crying about how poor you are?" Archie quickly replies, "I wanted to compensate for the damages, but when Ms. Henderson found out about it, she already made me 'compensate' using other methods. I used the whole night to pay the price, you know!" One can only imagine how wild the night could have been for Valerie and Archie. I just laugh before sharing the post to my admirers' group chat. "Whoever can knock off Henderson Group's stock price by five points gets to replace that useless wife of mine."

When my cheating fiancé dropped to one knee and proposed in front of everyone at our engagement party, he thought I would burst into tears and say yes. What he didn't expect was for me to snatch the microphone right out of his hand. "Sorry, I’m not marrying you." The entire room fell silent. Jason Gordon froze, the smile still lingering on his lips, as though he hadn't yet processed what I'd just said. I looked at him without the slightest ripple of emotion. Three minutes earlier, I had awakened the memories of my past life. In that life, I nodded yes at this very party. Then I watched this man slowly hollow out the company my father left me before tossing me aside like something no longer useful. Still kneeling on the floor, his voice trembled. "Claire... what... what are you talking about?" I met his eyes and smiled. "I already said I'm not marrying you." I handed the microphone back to the emcee, lifted the hem of my gown, and walked out of the ballroom without looking back. Behind me, his panicked voice rang out. "Claire Sharp! Claire, stop!" I didn't turn around.

After spending a passionate night with Emma Kemp, she lights a cigarette lazily in bed. "You really should brush up your intimate skills. You can barely hold a candle to Scott in this aspect." I feel as though my blood has turned to ice in my veins. Scott Barlow is the son of my mom's side piece. Emma continues, "When you called me to check on what I was doing, Scott was right next to me. The moment he heard your voice, he got so worked up that he kept clinging to me very tightly." Then, she turns to look at me, her lips already curling into a mean smirk. "Honestly speaking, I finally understand why your mom had cheated on your dad back then." Emma is waiting for me to kick up yet another ruckus hysterically, just as I did the first few times I found out about her affair. But I opt not to say anything. Instead, I just pick up my clothes that are strewn across the floor and put them on. Emma is stunned at first, but she soon scoffs and dials a number before putting it on loudspeaker mode. "You're wrong. I told you that Vince has learned his lesson this time." Scott's disdainful voice soon drifts out of the loudspeaker. "Fine, you win. You get to decide which position we're using in bed next time." But what Emma doesn't know is that I've never learned my lesson. On the contrary, I don't want her anymore.

The betrayal that made him a monster. The lie that could destroy him. Once, Henry was gentle, ruled only by his love for Emalia. Then, he found her with his brother. The kind Alpha heir died that day; the merciless Alpha Henry rose in his place – breathtakingly fierce, chillingly dominant. Eight years of icy hatred later, Emalia reappears, marked for death. Despite his loathing, Henry cannot let her die. He drags her into the gilded cage of Sky Pack, determined to shield her only so he can show her the hollow ruin she left behind. But proximity is poison. The fire between them rages, hotter than hate, deeper than memory. And as they circle each other in a dangerous dance, the shadows stir with the chilling truth: her betrayal wasn't what it seemed. Unearthing it could be the final blow that breaks them both.

I woke up naked beside a man I hadn’t seen in eight years. Before noon, the scandal was everywhere. By noon, I’d lost my position as CEO, my name, and my marriage. But the worst betrayal wasn’t the headlines. It wasn’t walking in on my husband and my best friend planning my downfall and mocking me. It was finding out the man I loved, my sweetheart of five years, made me a surrogate without my knowledge. The twins I'd been carrying for seven months weren't mine. But it failed to break me. It only made me stronger. After all, I wasn't just a mother—I was a CEO.

For five years, Marco Falcone was the perfect man. Or so I thought. The illusion shattered on the night of our engagement party, when his mistress crashed it, a five-year-old boy in tow. The boy ran straight to Marco, crying, "Daddy! Daddy, I finally found you!" It had to be some kind of sick joke. But then Marco turned to me, his voice stripped of all warmth. "This is my son, Leo. A… mistake Sofia and I made five years ago." "Leo is the Falcone heir. I have to legitimize them. That means I'll be engaged to Sofia first." "But Lydia, believe me, I still love you. We can have our engagement party in six months. You're going to be the Donna of the Falcone family. I expect you to be generous and understanding. This is non-negotiable." I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slid the engagement ring off my finger. My eyes scanned the room and locked on the man in the corner—Lorenzo Moretti, the most powerful Don in New York. He held another title, one only I knew: the man who’d been trying to make me his. "Don Moretti," I called out, my voice clear and steady. "I find myself in need of a new fiancé. Are you interested?"

Ken spent a fortune on our wedding. But on our wedding night, he left me to take care of his crush, Jenny Johnson, who was struggling with severe depression. I grabbed a chainsaw, took down her door, and demanded a divorce. Jenny's eyes were swollen from crying. "I'll leave Ken alone, back to you. My life isn't as important as your happiness—" Ken, distressed beyond words, warned me, "Mayson White, listen to me. If Jenny ends up taking her own life because of you, you'll pay with yours." Later, he caught me cheating with his best friend. With red eyes, he pleaded, "Mayson, break up with him. I can pretend none of this happened. Let's just be together." "No way," I said. "He'll threaten to end his life if he never sees me. You're such a good guy and wouldn't want to force him to go through with it, would you?"

After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out. I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat. But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage. The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying. The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive. [She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!] [No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!] The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me. The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir. Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer. It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love. To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.

Wanting to give my boyfriend, Justin Letterman, a surprise on Valentine's Day, I throw myself at him when he enters the room. I push him against the door and kiss him passionately. It isn't easy to transfer the spiked wine from my mouth into his, but his reaction is cold and indifferent. He says nothing as he pushes me aside to turn on the light. "Don't you want my first time anymore, darling?" I ask bashfully as I grab his hand. His breathing turns heavy in an instant. Smiling, I slip my hand under his shirt, but I'm distracted when I hear the front door creak open. "Babe," Justin coos in a deep and hoarse voice. "Why are you in such a hurry?" my best friend, Natalie Quinn, asks coyly. The wanton noises of kissing and moaning echo into the room. Before I can snap back to my senses, I'm yanked into a closet. Am I the one getting caught, or am I the one doing the catching?

The weather is -4 degrees Fahrenheit in Snow Park. The menstrual cramps are too much for me to handle, so I can only crouch beside the snow paths in order to rest. The new beautiful ski instructor, Sandy Hatfield, who Owen Schultz has hired, skid to a stop all of a sudden. The flurry of ice and snow gets splashed onto my face as a result. "Oh my, the snow quality here really is amazing! Unlike a certain someone, whose health is weaker than that of an average child…" Sandy takes off her snow goggles before flipping the bird at me tauntingly. "A dainty maiden like you should just go home and enjoy the heater. Don't take up precious space on the snow paths!" Unable to take it anymore, I grab my ski pole and try to strike Sandy with it. The next thing I know, Owen comes skidding in my direction on his snowboard and quickly shields Sandy from me. In doing so, he knocks me to the icy ground. He frowns at me, his voice colder than the icy winds. "Sandy is a professional athlete. What she did is a professional ski move. Can you stop being unreasonable?" As I slump on the ground, I find myself staring at a pink turtle cushion hanging from Sandy's hip. That was a cushion I’d sewn for Owen over three sleepless nights before this trip, with a safety charm hidden inside.. Back then, Owen thinks this charm is childish-looking and embarrassing, so he has tossed it into the boot without looking at it. Sandy follows my line of sight and feels the turtle cushion near her hip. Then, she brushes the snow off the charm with a scowl on her face. "Owen told me that this is a piece of garbage that's taking up space at home. So, it serves as my cushion now. I don't think even old ladies are prone to making such lame crafts nowadays, right Brooke?"