Novel Gifting Novels & Stories

I clarified. Understanding Eleanor’s gift was a ploy for cooperation made me acutely aware of the transactional nature of social interactions within the elite circles. Gifting was common, but for someone like me, raised in a rural area, accepting such grand gestures without established trust was inconceivable.

I’d known it was too much to hope the initial visit from Alex Darte was the last I’d see of Caleb, so I wasn’t surprised when the persistent bastard sent more gifts. Each day, a different gift was delivered to my office, each as extravagant and superficial as the roses—designer jewelry, high-end perfumes, branded handbags, clothes and shoes, gift cards for exclusive spa weekends, tickets to high-end opera or Broadway shows. I threw away or burned every single gift, but they just kept coming. Surprisingly, instead of fury, Kade reacted in a different way—he sent gifts of his own. The first one was a mug with the brand ‘Alpha’s favorite’ on it. Along with it was a note: Kade’s, not Caleb's.

The deed had already been done. I'd let him fuck me because I wanted to get rid of this attraction towards him and move on to the next guy but I didn't want it to be easy. "Did you get my gift?" He asked. Yeahhh, about that. He had been sending me tons of sexual gifts. From lubes, to smutty books and so on, but today's gift topped them all. "A dildo vibrator and lingeries. I did." I smirked, folding my arms, giving a light push to my breast. "I wonder how that's supposed to get you what you want."

It was a different thing if they were gifted. Opening the package, the librarian marvelled at the tasteful packaging. The box looked exquisite, nothing like raunchy third-rate toys made from possibly a sweatshop factory in China. It rivalled those expensive branded perfumes from high-end shopping districts. Already, she had high expectations for the limited edition vibrator set the company promised the participants of their No Nut November Challenge.

She rubbed her fingers together, hoping that she'd like the gift. "Hey, I'm curious what Vivienne got for you," said Jennifer. "Hurry up, Jean! Let us also see what Noah's girlfriend got for you." Jeanine carefully started unwrapping the gift. As the wrapping came off and the box opened, her eyes widened in surprise. Inside lay a beautiful, intricate necklace. The necklace sparkled under the light, a blend of understated elegance and timeless luxury. It was a piece that exuded sophistication, something clearly chosen with care.

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She got presents from all the family members. First, she cuts the cake before she starts opening her presents along with her brother Elijah. Magnus gave the concert tickets of her favorite band which is tomorrow in NYC, he got an extra ticket for Nick so that they can go together. He’s a great friend. Derek brought her real-life crime documentary books because Naomi loves crimes and investigations. Jorge gifted her Rhoeo plant. It looked pleasant and Naomi loved it. Julia gifted her some brand new makeup products. Her parents gifted her a new desk which she’s going to take when she moves out of this house.

Marissa felt a surge of gratitude, knowing that these gifts were not just material items but symbols of the love and support that surrounded her. Among the gifts, one particularly caught her attention—a beautifully bound book filled with handwritten recipes from the village's oldest residents. This was a treasure she had always wanted, as cooking had been a cherished pastime shared with her mother. The book was a collection of family recipes, each page telling a story of love, tradition, and the joy of gathering around the table. As Marissa flipped through the pages, she could almost hear the laughter of her family and friends echoing through the years.

"Hannah, look—so innocent yet alluring. It's perfect for me, isn't it?" I had gifted it to her because she loved it. My hands shook as I picked up the delicate, nearly transparent cloth. My throat closed up, and my head spun. The doubt I'd buried deep inside finally broke free. Confusion and pain crashed over me. Before I could even think, the violent sound of colliding cars split the air. Then, blackness swallowed me whole.

You can't get the betrothal dropped and still hoard his gifts like some petty thief. I stared her down. Perfect match for Samzor. "It's not like I refused to return anything. Gifts aren't loans. I gave just as much back. So who's calling it theft?" Her smile wobbled, then snapped back like elastic. "Oh, you CLAIM you gave just as much back? Cool. Show the proof." I swallowed the urge to gag. Not worth it. Gifts between promised wolves aren't receipts—they're private. Sacred. Who the hell keeps score like a bargain-bin trader?