Novel Up Novels & Stories

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

"You're going to meet her someday." I whispered. "Olivia." I forced a smile and lifted my head. "And it's fine. I'll be rooting for you all the way." He cut me off with a soft "Liv." I blinked away my tears. "No, listen to me. We need to accept that this won't last forever. You could find her on your next trip out of town, and I'll be forgotten." I swallowed the lump formed in my throat. "I just hope we'll still be friends." His face twisted in pain as he rested his forehead against mine, his hands trembling as he cups my cheeks. "You'll always be my best friend." "And you'll always be mine." I pressed my lips against his, needing to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, to know that at this moment, he was mine. ^^^ Olivia Martins has always been an outcast in the Nightshade pack. She's an omega and the pack she grew up in never failed to remind her that she'll never be one of them. It wasn't so bad growing up, she had her best friend by her side. Caspian Storm, son of the alpha of the Nightshade pack, befriended her when they were both little, and they've been inseparable ever since. Their friendship started out sweet and innocent, but it developed into more. Olivia knew that it couldn't last forever because Caspian would find his mate and what they had would come to an end. Yet, she couldn't guard her heart and when her worst fear comes true, she flees. Will Olivia and Caspian find their way back to each other or will the threat of Caspian finding his mate keep them apart?

"It hurts! It hurts me more! Don't you understand, that your savage sister ran away. Taking the money and jewelry I gave her," Arka snapped and then released the hold turning to stare at Mona's reddened cheeks. "That's impossible, Brother-in-Law," Mona said shaking her head, her knees felt weak and she fell to the floor. "I didn't think it was possible either, but this is what happened!" Arka snarled, kicking Mona to her back and causing the corner of her lip to bleed. "Go to your room, or you'll die by my hands right now!" Arka ordered, making Mona try to get up and step into the room while sobbing with pain.

When Gwyneth opened her eyes, she found herself in a webnovel she had just binge-read, and she wasn’t just a random character—she was the villain’s mother! In the story, after the tragic death of her first husband, the original owner of her body had swiftly moved on and snagged a perfect new partner, only to heartlessly cast aside her son from the first marriage, worrying he would become a burden. Now armed with knowledge of the impending plot twists and the looming shadows of her future villain son, Gwyneth glanced at her surprisingly alive first husband and groaned. With the script she had been dealt, she'd rather face a dragon than revamp this narrative! She was determined to rewrite her destiny, but how could she escape this villainous fate?

After my husband cheats, my relatives advise me to be tolerant and forgiving. Why? Because my husband's mistress is pregnant, and I'm infertile. Even his parents hurry to our house in the middle of the night to say, "Don't worry—we won't let that woman step foot in this house. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours." Is that so? I sneer as I look at a medical report. Perhaps the child will have something to do with me, but it definitely won't have anything to do with my husband.

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

'No matter what, No matter the time, No matter the place, No matter the century, No matter what's to come, I. will always. CHOOSE. YOU'. Everyone saw her as crazy..... But he saw her as nothing less than perfection. ................... "Why?" was the only thing he said. Confused I asked "Why what?" "Why do you always do this to yourself?" the tone in which he spoke almost seemed like he was heartbroken about something. "Do what?" I dared to ask, although I knew already within me I wouldn't like his response. "Conceal your worth" ....................... If you like this small insight of the story then please read on. The only thing I can guarantee you in this story is that it will definitely have an happy ending although for the two characters Rica and Dili to achieve that, they would have too pass through many difficult obstacles on their way to happiness. And trust me this isn't your normal Teenage story that is filled with rainbows and sunshine, there are a lot of gloomy days. If you don't mind that then please by all means do read on. .................. NOTE: This is a pure work of fiction. An original story by me. Buy me coffee? https://ko-fi.com/missrina

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control and power.But when his estranged brother resurfaces through a cryptic call, dragging him into a trail of files, threats, and old betrayals, everything he's built starts to crack. Remy Beckett, a rising star in the culinary world, is no strang to love but one man has him unraveled. A single dinner at Remy’s restaurant ignites an attraction that shakes Callum’s carefully guarded world. He’s never wanted a man before. Never craved the scrape of stubble against his skin or the heat of rough hands pinning him down. But Remy? He’s all Callum can think about. A shadowy attack leaves Remy bleeding in Callum’s arms, and suddenly, this isn’t about desire. It's about survival. Someone wants Remy dead, and Callum’s brother is at the center of it. Now, Callum must confront the ruthless empire he built, the family who betrayed him, and the truth he’s been denying.

Awakening to a bewildering and astonishing reality, Seraphina found herself in an extraordinary situation: she had transmigrated into her own novel, stepping into the shoes of a character she had meticulously crafted. The male lead in her story was notoriously elusive, challenging to approach, and the master of a harem. Seraphina, now Zephyrine Everlynn, unexpectedly found herself among the women in his harem. It was utterly absurd! Promptly leaving the harem, Seraphina used her knowledge to help others win the male lead's heart, all for the right price. But why did the male lead continuously find his way back to her?

My CEO wife, Gianna Richmond, plans on finally publicly announcing our marriage after our company successfully secures funding. However, Shane Jagger, a junior colleague that she recently hired, suddenly takes the mic from her and bashfully says, "Ms. Richmond, I really didn't think that you would be making our relationship public so quickly. Aren't you spoiling me a little too much?" Gianna doesn't refute that. Instead, she arranges for him to work on a very important project to help him fast-track his growth. At once, all of her employees erupt in cheer and applause, praising them for being a match made in heaven. A long-time colleague, Henry Danson, notices that I'm not saying anything in response, so he whispers to me, "Hey, Brandon, aren't you usually really good at pleasantries and networking? Hurry up and show some support!" I decide not to make a fuss. Instead, I take off my project manager work badge and push it toward Shane instead, declaring, "I don't think just being part of the project is good enough for your status. You should be the project manager as well. Think of it as my gift to you for making your relationship public!"