Overly Attached Girlfriend Now Novels & Stories

He told me I was nothing, stripped me of my worth, broke my body and soul, and threw me out like trash. His rival taught me I was everything and crowned me his Queen. ~~~~~ For nine years, I stood by Vincent's side, as his efficient and loyal assistant, helping him build the empire he inherited from his father while secretly and hopelessly head-over-heels in love with him. But after his first love, Chloe, a money-hungry, manipulative, lying bitch left him without a word and a night I wished never happened, a pregnancy, a forced marriage he loathed me for, and three years of living hell followed. Three years of turning me into his personal punching bag, breaking my body and my soul with each touch. His every word, a reminder that I was nothing but a worthless, disposable stand-in for the woman he truly desired. And when Chloe finally returned, tearfully claiming she'd been forced to raise their three-year-old son alone, Vincent saw his 'true family 'and threw me out like I was less than the dirt beneath his designer shoe. That night, broke, jobless and homeless, I was found bruised and helpless in the middle of the road by Alistair Kincaid, a man with a dark past and a massive personal score to settle with the Ashford family. He didn't just save me. He offered me a home at his side, claiming me beautifully and passionately. He took the shattered pieces of my soul and rebuilt it with his love. He taught me how to rise from the ashes, gave me my voice back, and showed me how to make kings kneel. Now I wear his crown. And my ex? He’ll wish he never threw me away.

On the night of the full moon, my fated mate, Alpha Chase Howler of the Redstone Pack, rejects me right in front of everyone. He has one arm slung around my best friend, Bella Hooks. "Daisy, you're too much of a traditionalist, not to mention you're very domineering. Bella, on the other hand, is very understanding and docile. She's the one who's meant to be my Luna." I try to explain to Chase that this is the Moon Goddess' arrangement for us. Yet, Bella clutches her chest before collapsing into Chase's arms, her eyes already reddened. "Daisy, I'm not a powerful healer like you. I know that I'm far too useless. If my death allows you to be with Chase, then I shall die right now." Chase is heartbroken, to say the least. He forcibly rejects our bond, completely disregarding the fact that we've been together for years. When I spit out some blood and collapse to the ground, Chase doesn't even bother glancing at me. Instead, he busies himself in comforting Bella, who has suffered from shock. As my punishment for making Bella sad, Chase decides to make me kneel before the altar until I'm willing to admit my mistakes. "You can only get up to your feet when you decide to apologize to Bella." I end up kneeling before the altar for three days and three nights before finally collapsing into a dead faint. When I stir awake once again, two mating marks have occupied my neck. I see the Alpha twins, Kyle and Ryan Grayback, standing in front of me. Legend has it that they are the violent and bloodthirsty rulers of the Snowlight Pack in the north. Later on, Chase begins regretting his decision to reject me like mad. He relentlessly pleads with me to give him another chance. But my mates are quick to refute, "How dare you ogle our Luna, you filthy mongrel!"

Thirty days into our argument, my girlfriend kissed her first love passionately right in front of me. I quietly asked my boss for a transfer to the Northern City branch, which was thousands of miles away. Her friends clapped and teased me. “Ivan, your girlfriend’s getting a new boyfriend. Aren’t you going to win her back?” I held her hand and sincerely said, “I’m sorry.” She looked down at me with a proud smile. “Okay, I forgive you. Tomorrow, pack your things. We’re going to see my parents.” I smiled and agreed. But she did not know I was leaving for Northern City that night.

On New Year’s Eve, I was working overtime at a mall. Then, I saw my girlfriend rent out the mall’s largest digital billboard to pressure a poor student into marrying her. I was about to go over and question them when the poor student responded emotionally, “Getting confessed to in my family’s mall is so romantic and meaningful.” “Silly boy. I’ve loved you for five years. Of course, I was going to propose. So, marry me, okay?” Then, they kissed passionately amid a chorus of cheers. They even won the mall’s Best Couple award that night. I smiled bitterly and volunteered to present the award to them. I wanted to see just what would happen when trash found trash.

On the six-year anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend, Sheila Loom, I buy some groceries with the intention to surprise her with a home-cooked meal. After I'm done, I head over to Sheila's place right away. That's when the reel I was watching automatically skips to the next one. It's a live stream where people call in to discuss legal matters. A familiar feminine voice drifts to my ears at that moment. "My boyfriend shelled out 500 thousand dollars to put me through school. I've already paid ten thousand back to him. "At first, I wanted to clear the debt before breaking up with him, but I don't want to wait any longer. If he insists on taking me to court after the breakup, can I still pay the debt off slowly?" Almost immediately, comments flood into the comments section, chewing her out and calling her a heartless wench. But the voice replies calmly, "If I truly were heartless, I wouldn't have paid him back to begin with. I no longer have feelings for him. Are you saying that I should sacrifice the rest of my life just so I can pay 500 thousand dollars back to him?" My heart skips a beat at that moment. It's true that I've spent 500 thousand dollars putting Sheila through school over the years. But I feel that I'm overthinking it, seeing as she's never brought up the matter of wanting to pay me back before. After I call Sheila repeatedly for half an hour, she finally answers my latest phone call. At the same time, the woman's phone call that's connected to the live stream is cut off. "It's my birthday today, Sheila—" "Have you secretly come looking for me again? Didn't we agree that we'll only meet up after you've successfully gotten into college?" I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the notebook sitting on the corner of Sheila's table. The first page shows "debt repayment ledger". Some of the details are as shown. "The SAT study materials I bought for him: 188 dollars." "The Uber fees I've paid for him: 35 dollars." "The cologne I've gifted him on his birthday: 380 dollars." "Total: ten thousand dollars now paid."

It is 9:00 pm, and a soft glow still lights the master bedroom on the Lowe residence's second floor. "Helena, there's only a month left before the marriage agreement ends. Once it's up, I'll go ahead and arrange the fake death." Sitting at her vanity, Bianca Lane types the message and sends it to her mother-in-law, Helena Johnson. A reply comes back almost instantly. "Bianca, you've worked so hard these past ten years. You've taken such good care of Sebastian and even gave birth to a child for our family. "To me, you've always been my daughter-in-law. Why not just forget about the agreement?" Reading the message, Bianca unconsciously tightens her grip on her phone before quickly typing her response. "No, Helena. Let's just stick to the agreement."

On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."

My fated mate, Riven, was the Alpha of a pathetic pack on the brink of collapse. For five years, I was his shadow, his strategist. I built his pack from nothing until the Alliance finally recognized us, and we were set to move to the fertile lands. Riven promised we'd have our mating ceremony once we settled in the new territory. But at the celebration feast, the night before the move, he threw me in a cell. He publicly announced that Jenna—the she-wolf carrying his pup—would be the pack's Luna. I couldn't believe it. I screamed at him, but he just sneered and pointed to a crystal pulsing with dark magic. "Jenna already has proof of your betrayal! Sleeping with Alphas for their support. You make me sick!" I begged him. But he just sliced my cheek with the silver-edged rejection letter, formally casting me aside. But he didn't know who I really was. I am the Alpha King's daughter. The strategies, the power, the alliances—they weren't his. They were mine. So I took it all back.

On our first wedding anniversary, my husband came home with a woman who was six months pregnant. He introduced her as his cousin, someone who had fallen on hard times, and asked me to take care of her. I was just about to agree when fragments of imaginary commentary floated through my mind: [She's just my 'cousin'. Uh-uh, that's a cliche.] [Poor supporting female character! A maid by day, the husband's bedwarmer by night.] [But she totally deserved it! If she hadn't broken up the main couple, they'd have a whole soccer team of kids by now!] Wait—what? Supporting female character? Me? And what's this about breaking them up? So now these two get to cheat under my roof, and somehow I'm the villain? Before I could process it all, my husband was already dragging her luggage inside. "Alice doesn't like fried food," he said matter-of-factly. "And nothing too salty or spicy. Make sure you keep that in mind when you're cooking. "Oh, and pregnant women love sweets. Go out now and buy a cherry cake. The one from that bakery in the suburbs."