Ongoing Delivery Novels & Stories

When I'm working as a deliveryman, I receive a delivery order from a hotel. As I look at the bag of adult toys in my hand, I can't help but snicker knowingly. "Youngsters nowadays sure are wild in bed." The moment I open the hotel room door and see my girlfriend, Natalie Brooks, I feel as though all color has been drained from my face. Natalie's work junior, Brandon Clark, laughs arrogantly in my face with a bath towel wrapped around his waist. "How did that broke bastard track us down?" Natalie just frowns at me in displeasure. "Brandon helped me secure many projects at work. His only wish is that he gets to spend a night with a woman. "This is nothing but physical collision between bodies! This is the 21st century, Oliver! Must you be such a prude? "But don't worry, though. Even though I'm spending the night with Brandon, I'll still marry you according to my family's wishes." I shake my head immediately out of fear. "I'm not interested in marrying a woman who's been used by others, so I hope you two have a great life together! But I'll also withdraw my funds from your company. You'd better kiss those projects of yours goodbye!"

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]

In the delivery room, my wife, Ashley Chase, is now fully dilated, but she refuses to go through with the delivery. She insists that I have to agree to accept her betrayal first. "Henry Madden, I want you to swear that you'll treat this baby as if it were your own. Or else, I refuse to give birth today. The baby and I will both die in this delivery room!" The medical staff joins in, trying to convince me that life matters more than anything else—that all Ashley has done is make a mistake, and I should just live with it. Ashley's mother even slaps me when she sees that I haven't agreed yet. "You're just a loser who married into our family! You should feel honored that we're letting you be the father in name. Don't be such an ingrate!" Sneering, I grab the delivery consent form and write the words "do not agree". "Since Ashley is so keen to end both her own life and the life of her love child, I'll let her have her way."

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.

I secretly ordered a delivery of a thousand roses for my wife's birthday, hoping to surprise her. After the delivery was completed, I got a message from the delivery guy. [By the way, I tossed the trash by your door on my way out. Didn't expect you to be so kinky. Good for you, man!] He even sent me a photo. In the picture was an open trash bag stuffed with shredded pantyhose. My mind went completely blank. I was overseas on a business trip. My wife was the only one at home.

During the dinner rush, the lobby of Aurelia Heights suddenly exploded into chaos. A woman from one of the penthouse duplexes stormed downstairs and blocked my delivery scooter. “Everyone, come look at how disgusting this delivery guy is!” With that, she threw a half-spilled bowl of lobster bisque at my feet. In her other hand, she held up what she claimed was surveillance footage. The residents walking their dogs and the security guards nearby immediately gathered around. “No wonder my takeout has been smelling weird lately. So these delivery drivers have been spitting in our food to get back at us?” “That’s disgusting. Guys like him can’t stand seeing other people doing better than they are. No wonder he’s stuck delivering food for a living.” “Management really needs to be stricter. People who dress like that could be carrying who knows what. How can you let them into a luxury building like ours?” The penthouse lady grew even more smug. She pointed right at my nose and snapped, “Young man, there’s nothing wrong with being poor. But at least have some dignity.” “How much do you even make per delivery? Five dollars? Is that worth throwing away your conscience over? Is this how your parents taught you to behave?” To curry favor with the residents, the head of security even came at me with a baton, shouting that he was going to drag me to the police station himself. But the thing was, I had never cared about that five-dollar delivery fee in the first place. I was the captain of the city's Major Crimes Unit. The delivery uniform was just a disguise. I was only here to get close to the high-priority fugitive hiding inside this building. The penthouse lady’s husband.

#While returning home from a late-night shift, I was knocked down by a delivery rider. The girl riding it was deaf and mute, looking no older than a teenager. I couldn’t bring myself to make things difficult for her, so I paid for the medical expenses at the hospital on my own. Limping back home, I saw a familiar delivery helmet lying at the doorway. From inside, laughter echoed through the walls. “She’s such a fool. I was just pretending but she believed it anyway.”

BOOK 1- The Billionaire's Jobless Wife (COMPLETED) BOOK 2 Loving My Billionaire Kuya (ONGOING) She lost her job. He lost his fiancée. When a desperate teacher becomes The Billionaire’s Jobless Wife, a contract meant for convenience soon tests the line between love, lies, and survival.

The first time Ona Balboa met Donnie Dellucci, a wealthy and mysterious handsome young Italian man, her only desire was to lay once on his bed. But when Adonis Dellucci first lay eyes on Caitrona Balboa, the rural dark-skinned lady with the crazy and unique ingredients, aloof and calm as him, he couldn't help it but let her be... Book 1 (Complete) Sequel (ongoing)

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."