Novels Everyone Must Read Novels & Stories

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

Solene Severe Finizy Priemmo is an ordinary woman who believes that her life has been full of misfortune since she first became aware of the world. Her miserable life became even worse when she began to live under her Aunt's custody. Not until the realization hits her, she needs to live on her own and no one can dictate what she needs to do. Destiny itself paved the way for them to cross paths with the gray-eyed man, who stuns her every time they look at each other. She met Hyde Amoushe Strovinstell. A multibillionaire heir and the CEO of Riotte Strovinstell, a well-known and successful five-star hotel chain throughout Asia, Europe, and the United States. She learned to fight, but what matters most to her is that she rediscovered love and reopened herself to new experiences. Not ever since when her cruel past has been spilled, everything went lost in its place. She desperately desired to flee but she knew she couldn't...

Celeste Leblanc, the daughter of the richest man in the city, has ordered a custom-fitted ring worth a billion dollars according to my finger size. She claims that she will marry the person who can wear it perfectly. In the first time loop, George Braun, the fake heir, secretly enlarges the ring so that he can marry Celeste. She responds by slapping him to the point he's all bruised and battered. "You're not the one!" In the second time loop, my adopted brother, Roger Braun, loses 30 pounds in one go so that he can marry Celeste. She responds by pushing him down the stairs. "You're not the one either!" In the third time loop, my stepfather, Edgar Braun, grits his teeth and makes up his mind. He slices the flesh off his finger so that he can wear the ring properly. Celeste chuckles coldly at the sight. She orders her bodyguards to drown Edgar in a bathtub immediately. In the fourth time loop, everyone is left without a choice. They're so frightened that they deliver me into Celeste's hands. I put on the ring. It fits my finger perfectly well. The entire family heaves sighs of relief. But the moment Celeste sees me, she draws out a blade and stabs me to death. "You're not the one too! Where the hell is my fated husband?" In the final time loop, when Celeste tells her secretary, Donny Griffin, to bring the ring over, all of us claim that we can't wear the ring at all. But Donny shoots us a weird look. "Ms. Leblanc has already made it clear that one of you is the ring's owner."

Lucas Fenrir was the son of the Alpha of the Silvertail Pack, born as the pack's greatest pride. When his Luna and first love, Nara Boris, chose to leave, he married me in a fit of rage—the most unremarkable Omega in the pack. Everyone said I was just a substitute for Nara. They were waiting to see me abandoned, to see me cry, and to see me beg on my knees. Nonetheless, I always smiled and calmly fulfilled Lucas' every demand. I helped him stabilize the pack's morale, stood up for him in public, and even defended him against the rumors that he had rekindled his past romance with Nara. Until one day, I saw him on the streets during the Moon Goddess Festival. He was holding Nara, kissing her deeply. Meanwhile, I simply turned my head away in silence from behind the crowd and pretended I saw nothing. A few months later, I was diagnosed with wolfsbane poisoning that had spread to my nervous system. My condition was beyond saving. I was admitted to the ICU of the pack's hospital, with only a few days left to live. Lucas came when he heard the news. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared and grabbed my dying body. "Why didn't you tell me? Why are you trying to die alone in secret?" I looked at his unhinged expression, my gaze as gentle as it had always been. There was even a faint mocking smile curling at my lips. "Lucas, I've never loved you. "The one I loved… was actually your twin brother—Derrick."

"Date me for four months only. If at the end of these four months, you fall in love with me, then I get to fuck you like a slut." His firm and domineering voice swept across my entire being. "And... If I didn't fall in love with you but rather, you ended up falling in love with me..." I swallowed and continued with all the strength in me," you get to leave this school, leave this country and never show up before me again." "Deal." "Deal." ---- Eleanor Christopher was a shy but sweet and innocent girl who had tried all her best to avoid the devil. She hated him for his promiscuous life, she had even heard him bragged to his friends before that he has one year plan of fucking ever single girls in the college. Speaking of the devil, Henry Fred, the hottest and most popular playboy in college. After fucking and dumping several girls who literally stoop at his feet to have at least a talk with him, he decided to fuck the next girl on his list, he however didn't expect for her to be different from other ladies, she hated him and she was blunt about it. He made a bet with his friends to fuck her, he won't stop until he hear her moan crazily under his body, he won't even force her, she will literally plead to have him in her. He want her, Eleanor Christopher, and he was ready to have her, no matter what it takes.

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".

As I casually opened the online forum, a trending post at the top caught my eye. [Share the wildest thing you’ve ever done.] I clicked on the second comment, which seemed to contain just one line. [Without a doubt, it was the night before my buddy’s wedding when I had his wife come over for a “quality check.”] However, the poster kept adding to the thread. [That night, the woman tricked that idiot into thinking it was a bachelorette party, but she actually spent the whole night at my place. [She said she didn’t want to sleep with just one man forever and needed one last wild night before tying the knot. [By the end of the night, her throat was nearly raw from all the screaming. [We kept going until sunrise, right there in the wedding car her husband was supposed to pick her up later that day.] [Not only that, but even after they got married, this fool kept bringing his wife over to my place for dinner. [He’d help me in the kitchen while I pinned his wife against the fridge and kissed her. [He’d be glued to the game in the living room while his wife knelt in the bathroom and took care of me. [One time, when he passed out drunk on my couch, his wife and I had our own fun on the carpet beside him. [Every time he rolled over, we’d both jump. It was the thrill of knowing we could get caught at any moment.] The image loaded, revealing the familiar interior of the wedding car. The lucky charm I had given my wife dangled from the rearview mirror. My fingers momentarily stiffened, and I nearly dropped my phone. A wave of nausea rolled in my stomach as a chill crept up my spine. Just then, a hand appeared in my field of vision, waving in front of me. “Calvin, what are you zoning out for? You’re at my place, and you’re still on your phone. Come on. Dig in while it’s hot.” Wyatt Preston, my friend, grinned at me. Yet, his eyes kept straying toward my wife, Queenie Jennings, who was sitting beside me.

Five years ago, my Alpha parents rescued me from an orphanage and brought me home to the Blue Moon Pack. I thought my life was finally taking a turn for the better. I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. Yolanda McKinney—the fake heiress—conspired with rogue wolves to destroy me. They kidnapped me, ran over my legs with a car, breaking them, and left me battered and bleeding. When my parents and my childhood sweetheart, Joseph Delgado, found me lying in a pool of my own blood, their panic was unmistakable. They rushed me to the pack hospital, but the diagnosis was devastating: I might never walk again. Joseph proposed to me on the spot, vowing to stand by me through everything. My parents, furious at Yolanda's betrayal, promised swift justice. They assured me they had cut all ties with her, that she'd fled in guilt and drowned in a tragic accident. I believed them. I had to. For five years, I focused on recovery, trying to rebuild my shattered life. My marriage to Joseph was my anchor, the one thing I thought I could trust. Until the day I saw Yolanda McKinney alive. "You and Mom and Dad saved my life," she said smugly, her voice dripping with venom. "Without you, that pathetic cripple would’ve been the end of me." My blood ran cold as she continued. "But she never suspected, not even for a second, that you and I have a pup. Mom and Dad? They erased every trace, switched her meds for useless pills—hell, they even buried the evidence." Joseph's response shattered what little remained of my heart. "Don't make it sound so harsh," he murmured. "Marrying her was the only way I could keep sending those forgiveness letters. It was the only way to keep you and our son safe." Every word stabbed me like a blade. My marriage? A lie. My parents? Traitors who discarded me like trash. The justice they’d promised me? A farce. Fine. If I meant nothing to them, then they would mean nothing to me.

“Stop this God forsaken wedding!!” I boom, my voice resonating through the halls of the church. Murmurs fill the air as eyes turn to me, dressed in nothing but rags. My grip tightens on the bat in my right hand. How dare they? How dare he? My eyes burn as I match forward, my body trembling with rage. “Clara, what–” His words are barely out before I send my hand forward, swinging the bat at him. Thick red blood spurts out as screams fill the air. ~~~~~ Clara Anthony thought it was love when she took the fall for a theft her husband committed just a few weeks after she gave birth. Thought she was doing the right thing for him, for them, but she was wrong because on the day she came out three years later, she found out he was getting married to her best friend of ten years. Her whole world shatters as she watches her best friend take her life, her husband, and her daughter. Left with nothing but pain and a deep ache for revenge. She teams up with the one person she swore never to look at again, the one person everyone thought was dead. Spencer Anthony, twin to her husband and her first love, the same man who left her without a word. Now he is back from the dead, not as the same man she once knew, but a cold, heartless mafia man who wants nothing but destruction. As Spencer offers her a chance to reclaim her life and daughter. Filled with nothing but hate, she takes up the offer, determined to make everyone pay. But what she didn't know when going close to Spencer was that when dining with the devil, you use a long spoon.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?