Navel Rock 소설 & 이야기

The first experiment in the world of retrieving memories after death succeeds, and my memories are going to be broadcast live all over the Internet. My dad has just learned about my death, but he only says in a disgusted tone, "Who would want to see the memories of someone who is selfish, mean, and has nothing commendable at all about them? Today is the wedding day of Zoe and Cameron. Pause the live broadcast and stop being so sickening!" Zoe is my stepsister, and Cameron is supposed to be my fiance. After that, my father finds out the truth from the live broadcast of my memories. He begs for my forgiveness tearfully but… I'm already dead.

I'm a wedding dress designer, and one day before the finals of the Bridal Queen Tournament, explicit photos of me are posted all over the internet. Countless people accuse me of defiling the concept of love. They say I don't deserve to make wedding dresses, and in the end, I'm disqualified from the tournament. The photos can only come from one person—my boyfriend, Felix Evans. On the verge of a breakdown, I seek him out for answers. But right before I walk through the door, I hear him having a conversation with his twin, Leon Evans. "As expected, the netizens sank their teeth into Dahlia the moment the photos were posted online. I'm guessing that she's going to be blacklisted by the entire fashion industry too. There's no way she can compete against Sylvia for the title of Bridal Queen anymore." "Does this mean I can't pretend to be you and sleep with her anymore? Truth be told, she's pretty good in bed. She's pure, but she's also seductive." "You should take advantage of the situation and sleep with her as much as you want then. Once Sylvia wins the title of Bridal Queen, I'm going to cut ties with Dahlia completely and officially pursue Sylvia." Listening to their casual conversation, I feel like a sharp blade is being ruthlessly stabbed into my heart. I don't know how I got home. After sitting in a daze the entire night, I call a studio overseas and tell them, "I'll be joining you in three days."

My name is Brandon Westin, and I'm Carlisle Grayson's secretary and secret lover. No matter how cold he acts toward me, how much he humiliates me, or how often he "lends" me off to other people, I still choose to stick with him without any remorse or complaints. His friends call me a shameless lapdog. Carlisle calls me a twink, often blaming me for "turning him gay" and thus ruining his life. However, when I finally choose to leave him, he looks at me with red-rimmed eyes and asks, "How can you say that you don't love me?"

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

Crossing paths with Warren Parker is the biggest nightmare of my life. He admits my mother to a psychiatric hospital. He causes my younger brother and sister to drop out of school. He forces me to kneel before him, to dress as a woman, and to live a life devoid of any dignity. When I try to end my life, he stops me. "Your brother doesn't satisfy me the way you do. You can die once I'm bored with you."

When Callum abandoned me, feverish and shivering on a mountain road, just to watch a meteor shower with the young woman he had raised, I decided to divorce him. His good friend, Emmet, advised him to try winning me back. "Look Cal, sisters are sisters, but a wife takes priority. You’d better not mix up what matters most." Callum, however, dismissed the idea with a confident smile. "She’s bluffing. Does she really think she’ll go through with the divorce?" "All these years, I’ve given her a place to belong. Without me, she wouldn’t even have a home. Leave me? She wouldn’t dare.  "Just wait. Before the cooling-off period ends, she’ll come back crying and begging me to take her in."  But thirty days passed, and I never looked back. While he scoured the world searching for me, I sipped tea in a misty mountain villa, utterly at peace. "James," I remarked to my step-brother, "your place truly feels like home."

Eight years into our bond, I spotted a child at the kindergarten who looked uncannily like Malcolm—my mate. Malcolm had told me he was away on a business trip. However then he was holding that child in his arms, gently coaxing him. "Be good, sweetheart. In a few days, I'll bring you and your mom home. You're my only child. I'll never abandon you." The child smiled, content and trusting. I stood hidden around the corner, unable to breathe from the pain gripping my chest. Eight years ago, I had taken a silver blade to the stomach to save Malcolm. I lost my wolf that day—and with it, the ability to ever carry a pup. Back then, Malcolm had sat beside my hospital bed and made a promise: "You are the only mate I will ever choose. Whether or not we have a pup doesn't change that." However, what I saw now felt like a brutal slap—a reality too sharp to ignore. What value would Luna have if she'd lost her wolf and could no longer bear heirs? How could I possibly compare to someone who could give him a child, and the pack, a future? Choking back the pain swelling in my chest, I picked up the phone and called my father. "Dad… would you still want a daughter who's lost her wolf?" His voice came through, steady and sure. "Of course. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

Raffi Remoirs is a she-wolf who has the ability to cure any kind of illness, but she felt too much guilt because she was not able to cure the mother who raised her. Rock Redwood is a Lycan king full of perfection and great power. He is also known as a dangerous and difficult opponent who is uneasy to manipulate and bear with. A dominant, ruthless, and heartless Lycan King. Raffi just woke up one morning, and her father told her that they had to pay off their family's huge debt to Rock Redwood. Rock doesn't want to accept money and wants Raffi herself. In return, she had to give him a son who would inherit everything Rock had as the Lycan King in Luciana and all of Europe. How can Raffi overcome something that she has to do even if she is against it? Can she beg Rock not to ask her to have children as compensation? What if the only way for her to be free from this huge debt is to give him a child? And if she can give it, what will she do if she is also gradually falling for the ruthless and heartless Lycan King?

I find myself looking for a job, stuck between a rock and a hard place as I scroll through the 'now hiring' pages on jobsforyou.com. A few sound interesting... but none hold my attention, that is until I see it... NOW HIRING MAID! Must be willing to work and live on site. I click apply now. I have no place to live anyway. I am sat here at the library just hanging by a string. As soon as I hit submit application, I feel a rock in the pit of my stomach. What did I just do?

I'm seven months pregnant when my husband's close female friend, Suzy Ruffalo, invited us to a beach party. The sun is blazing, so I stay tucked under a parasol, quietly scrolling through my phone. Suddenly, Suzy wanders over and swings herself onto my husband's lap. "Hurry up and put the sunscreen on me! Don't just put it on my chest this time. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with my boobs two shades lighter." For a moment, I wonder if I've heard her wrong. My husband, Ted Cohen, casually picks up the sunscreen and starts rubbing it on her chest without hesitation. "Your boobs are tiny to begin with. I'm helping you to make it fairer so that it looks bigger." Suzy slaps his shoulder in annoyance. "How's that your business? You said my bikini area was darker the previous time." The rest of the guys started whistling. When Ted rubs the sunscreen just below her navel, he subconsciously glances at me. However, Suzy grabs his hand and shoves it lower. "Don't worry, Nina. He's touched this area so many times he's immune by now. It's just sunscreen. There's no need to get jealous over this, yeah?" I snort and look away to book a time for the divorce agreement. I will not be jealous, but they're both going to be on the receiving end of my slaps.