Perfect Addiction Novels & Stories

On my way to work, I came across a livestream from an influencer who posted about her relationship, tagged at my company’s location. She was talking about her office romance with the CEO of a major corporation. But wasn’t the CEO of her company my husband? I clicked on her profile and saw that it was full of wedding-prep posts. The man never showed his face, but his build looked almost exactly like my husband’s. So I left a comment in the livestream: “I heard the CEO of Gibson Corporation has been married for a long time. So what does that make you...?” The streamer muted me, then instantly burst into tears. “The internet isn’t lawless. If you keep spreading rumors and calling me a mistress, I’m calling the police.” Her fans immediately swarmed me. “You’re probably the other woman yourself. That’s why your mind went there.” “I checked her profile. She’s some woman in her thirties. She’s obviously jealous because the streamer is young, pretty, and has a rich, powerful boyfriend who dotes on her.” “The account’s brand new. She’s obviously just a troll.” I tried to say more, only to realize I had already been kicked out of the livestream, and my account had been reported until I couldn’t even log back in. I stared at the proof of our marriage in the drawer for a long moment. Then I raised my hand and smacked my sleeping husband awake. “Exactly how many wives are you planning to have?”

I spent five years pursuing Derick Tucker before we finally set a wedding date. But in the 100 days leading up to it, he was off partying all over the place, barely showing his face. The night before the wedding, he said he was going to a bachelor party and never came home. Instead, I got a message from a girl he knew from college. It was a photo of them in bed together. [Sorry. He went a little too hard last night. Don't expect much from him on your wedding night. [Oh, wait, I forgot. He doesn't even love you. Who knows if he'll even be able to perform? Looks like you can't even settle for my leftovers.] I held up the message and confronted Derick. He didn't even flinch. "She's not wrong. I'm not married until tomorrow. What's the problem with having some fun before that? "You're used goods yourself, and you expect me to stay pure for you? "If you can't handle it, then don't marry me. But can you really walk away?" After humiliating me, he stormed off, convinced I would swallow it like I always did. But this time, I was done. I picked up my phone. "What you said before, about taking responsibility. Does that still stand?"

My mom decides to implement an income-based rationing system. Everything at home is delegated to everyone based on their income. At a holiday dinner, I decide to grab myself an extra helping of pasta. As soon as I fill up my plate, my mom snatches it from my hands. "Hold on. Just look at the spread on the table. The sea bass is already worth 180 dollars. The scallops are worth 200, whereas the lobster goes for 300 dollars. "You only earn 3,000 dollars per month. If you want a second serving, you must pay up first. I'll charge you based on the family rate. It'll be three dollars, thank you very much." My mom sticks out three fingers while smiling at me.

I send my sister, Lola Graham, to my couture boutique to pick out a wedding dress. As she is leaving, a trainee clerk, Kayla Larson, demands three million for the gown. Helpless, Lola says my name. "I'm the owner's sister. I don't have to pay." Kayla rolls her eyes. "You're pranking the wrong store. Our boss doesn't have a sister. You're just broke and trying to scam us!" she snapped, blocking my sister's way. "This is your last warning—either pay up, or I'll rip that dress off you and throw you out!" Stunned, Lola calls me. When I rush over, I hear my long-time store manager standing deferentially behind Kayla, warning Lola, "You'd better behave. The woman in front of you is our boss' wife. Cross her, and you'll regret it." "Trying to fake your way in here? You've got some nerve," Kayla sneers, adding to my sister's humiliation. My hand freezes on the door. Without hesitation, I cut off my husband's secondary credit card and call him. "Have I been too generous with you? Or did giving you too much money make you think you could afford another woman behind my back?"

After the college entrance exams, my parents left me at home and took their adopted daughter on a trip to the beach. A typhoon hit, and the three of them never came back. When the news reached me, I did not cry or throw a tantrum. I had their deaths registered right away and pulled out the life insurance I had bought in advance. I received one hundred million in compensation. My fiance scolded me for caring only about money. What he did not know was that I had been reborn. In my past life, after I learned about their deaths, the huge debts they had left behind fell on me. I gave up the chance to go to college and started working to pay everything back. I fought to protect our ancestral home from debt collectors. My fiance stayed with me and cheered me on when I came home late at night from delivery runs. But he never gave me a single cent to help. At thirty-five, I finally cleared every debt. On my birthday, I bought myself a ten-dollar cake to celebrate. Just as I was about to blow out the candle, the door opened. My parents and their adopted daughter, who should have died in the typhoon, walked in dressed in designer clothes. They smiled at me smugly. “Well done! We can finally believe that you aren’t greedy for money. You’ve passed the test. From today, you are qualified to be the daughter of the Jameson family.” “Jane, this brilliant idea was all thanks to you.” My adopted sister smiled. She leaned close and blew out my candle. The only light left in my twenty years of lifetime went out with it. My body gave in to exhaustion. My heart failed. I collapsed and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, they were about to head to the beach in the middle of the typhoon. I bought a massive accident insurance policy for them on the spot. This time, all I wanted was for them to disappear from this world forever.

The holidays are almost here, and yet I've chosen to burn down the mushroom greenhouse, which has generated millions of profits that can sustain my family's livelihood. As I stare at the blazing inferno, my heart is as calm as a still lake. In my previous life, I had a grand haul of mushrooms after devoting my blood, sweat, and tears into cultivating throughout the year. When I was about to sell them, Sarah Clarkson, my husband's childhood friend, came knocking on my doorstep. Apparently, she wanted to get about 30 pounds' worth of mushrooms so that she could give them away as holiday gifts. Having taken her relationship with my husband, Dominic Kane, into consideration, I didn't hesitate to pack up the mushrooms and give them to Sarah. Little did I know that I'd receive the news of her getting poisoned the next day. Not only that, but Sarah even started a live stream and started berating me for selling the mushrooms. "I've already consulted the fungi experts, Hazel! Apparently, the mushrooms you've given me contain lethal poison! "Thank goodness I'm the one who found out about this! If not, I can't imagine just how many people would've been poisoned by your mushrooms once they got out!" I tried to defend myself, but Dominic was quick to produce the so-called solid evidence. "I thought you were just joking about wanting to plant cheap, poisonous mushrooms. I didn't think you'd stick to your word!" At that moment, the viewers lashed out at me so much that I went viral. Later on, I got forcibly taken away by the police so that they could proceed with the investigation. The results completely stunned me. It turned out that the mushrooms I had spent so long cultivating were actually poisonous! After leaving the police department, I found out that all of my savings were already siphoned by Dominic, who then used it to pay off Sarah's medical bills. He also filed for a divorce, stating that I was a woman with poor character. Left with nothing under my name, I was completely dazed and delirious. In the end, I collapsed and died on the street. When I open my eyes, I've returned to the day before the grand mushroom haul. That's when I decide to torch all the mushrooms. But this time, Sarah still gets poisoned for some reason.

During rehearsal for the school arts gala, I got word from the school that I had been chosen to give the commencement speech as the outstanding graduate representative. Gideon immediately grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the grove behind campus to celebrate. The moment I stepped into the trees, strange floating messages appeared in front of my eyes. "Don't go in there. Gideon prepared sulfuric acid for you. He's planning to destroy your face so you'll lose your chance to speak on stage." "Three years ago, Gideon helped his childhood friend Lucy steal your identity and take your place as the long-lost daughter of the York family. Now he wants to ruin your face so you'll never have the chance to return to your real family." "After the attack, you'll endure countless reconstructive surgeries, only to be killed when the fake heiress switches your medication." "Meanwhile, Gideon marries the impostor, and together they seize the entire York family's fortune. Your parents end up homeless." "Go to the main stage right now. Let Mrs. York see you. This is your only chance to reclaim your identity." … Not far ahead, Gideon urged me to hurry. I looked at the messages hovering in front of me and stopped in my tracks, suddenly unsure of what to do.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

On day two of Matthew's so-called business trip, I was wiping down the counter when I said, "Auri, play some music." Instead of music, a syrupy voice chirped, "Sure thing, my Baby Moon. Oh, and Matthew, don't forget Bibi's birthday surprise tonight." I froze. The speaker blasted some random playlist, but all I heard was 'Bibi.' Matthew Kein was my husband. So who the hell was Bibi? I called him. "Did you mess with our smart speaker?" A beat of silence, then his fake laugh. "Oh, a buddy dropped by. Probably logged his account in. Why?" I laughed back like I bought it, then hung up. Two taps later, I was scrolling the login history, already hailing a cab to the company tied to that mystery account.

I called my wife, a forensic specialist, after learning that my in-laws were involved in a car accident. It was on the 80th call that she finally answered, "I'm just trying to celebrate Justin's birthday for him. What's wrong with you? Can you not get jealous over just about anything?" I informed her that Mom, Dad, and sister had died in a car accident, and that she should hurry back to arrange for their funeral. To my surprise, she scoffed at my suggestion and replied, "What does your family's death have to do with me?" She was not involved in the funeral arrangements at all. On top of that, she even falsified evidence for her love interest—the culprit who killed her family—in court as a forensics specialist. Eventually, on the day I informed her of my intention to divorce, she threw a fit. "Patrick, it's just the death of a few of your family members. Justin didn't do it on purpose. It was just an accident. "Moreover, it's because of your parents' and sister's carelessness on the road that led to the accident. Why are you making things difficult for me and insisting on divorce? I've truly misjudged you…" Noticing the indignance in her response, I finally understood. It seemed she had no idea that it was her family that died in the accident all this while.