Post-cyberpunk Novels & Stories

After getting married, I followed my wife to the desert to help build up a remote research base. After months of severe drought, I applied for 17 ounces of water just to wash my hair. But as station chief, June Sheffield rejected me without hesitation. "The water supply has to go toward cultivating the samples first. You need to learn how to tough it out." Then the next moment, I came across a new post the intern had uploaded on social media. 'Wanted to try an outdoor bath, and Ms. Sheffield approved a whole ton of water without even blinking! She even set up the bath tent herself. I'm so happy.' Furious, I went straight to confront June Sheffield. Usually cold and distant, she softened her tone for once. "Conditions here are harsh. If Morgan can't handle it and decides to leave, the base will end up even more short-staffed. You're one of the core staff members. Once the project pays out, your share alone will be at least four million. An intern like him doesn't get that kind of treatment." In the end, I swallowed my anger. That was, until the first-quarter project wrapped up. When there was still no movement in my account, I nervously contacted headquarters. The moment I gave my identity, the person on the other end sounded stunned. "You're just an intern. What project bonus are you talking about? And the head of the research department has always been Morgan Wilder." I stared at June's signature on the personnel registration list and suddenly understood everything. Without another word, I packed my bags and booked a flight home. Life in the desert was bitterly cold and unforgiving. This time, I was not staying.

“I, Neolani Griffin accept you as my mate,” I beamed, waiting for him excitedly to accept me too. There was a long pause. “Who gave you the right to call me by my name?” He snapped, anger dripping from every word he spoke.“Answer me” He barked, eyes locked on mine. “How do you know my name? It must have been the maidservants right?, I'll have them stripped off their post” He stepped away from me. “I, Ragnar Gray, reject you Noelani Griffin as my mate” Neolani never asked to be a rogue. Once an Alpha, once a daughter, her world was in shambles the night her family was murdered and her pack taken hostage by her half-uncle. Now, she’s nothing but a rogue, fighting to survive where wolves like her are despised. On the run for survival she unkowingly crosses the borders of Alpha Ragnar pack who is known for his cruelty, powerful, merciless, and loyalty to a pack that sees rogues as the enemy. Alpha Ragnar prepares to end her without a second thought, but then he feels it. The bond, she’s his mate. The one thing he swore he would never want. Worse, his heart already belongs to someone else: his beautiful childhood friend who was mated to his beta, Kendrick. He rejected the bond the moment it burned through him. But desire doesn’t wait for permission. With every stolen glance, and every reckless touch, the line between hatred begins to blur. Together, they could ignite a powerful love that is if pride and betrayal don’t destroy them first.

She was ready to differentiate into Alpha the next second in the hotel, but her intentions were thwarted by the unexpected arrival of A+ Alpha... Under a strong influx of cedar-scented pheromones, Letitia ultimately differentiated into Omega. "Ahhhhh...... no!" Letitia was alarmed, kicking and punching wildly with both hands and feet, but in front of the A+ class alpha, it was like an unreasonable child. Samuel, the CEO of the Ruiz family, grimaced helplessly. His long legs pressed her flailing legs, then he pulled the belt off his robe and tied her hands firmly to the post at the head of the bed. The aphrodisiac had taken over his will and there was only one thought left in his mind: to possess her......Letitia's voice rose abruptly and she struggled with unprecedented panic . Her tender omega cavity was only just awakening when an unexpected visitor knocked on the door. "No! Not there, Samuel!" She looked at Samuel with pleading red eyes as tears fell from her eyes. Samuel smiled and released his pheromones to gently soothe the frightened rabbit beneath him. It's okay, you'll be mine forever. They were knotted... After one-night stand, Letitia thinks he doesn't remember anything and runs away. But when she found out she was pregnant with his child, he told her that they were a couple forced to be matched well under the state matching mechanism and were destined to marry. She reluctantly agreed to his proposal of marriage. But she never tells him whose child she is carrying... On their wedding night, Samuel thoughtfully tucked the corners of her covers in for her, then leaned down to listen and heard her dreaming. "I don't ...... want to ...... marry him." Samuel's smile froze at the corners of his mouth. He never just wanted to mark her...

Believe it or not, we assume every love tale as cliche until and unless we dive into it. Both above figures had a kind of part to play here which is cannot even say as cliche. This is a story of my most favourite couple. Yeah, it's a love story, obviously! And their love chapters start on a very very boring note. Him flying back to India and her liking post on Instagram of her friends. Most important, based on their real life love series. ***Wiping tears behind the door hold a memory of precious loss in her childhood and a mysterious misunderstanding leads her to hate Avinash like anything. They haven't seen each other for years... But he wanted to meet her, talk to her. Finally, a day came and they meet which doesn't let them cross paths but instead get them together to ride on a bike of love trip. Meanwhile, both of them already had someone to fix with. If anyone thinks that after falling in love is no trouble then it's no way! Will she keep ignoring her feelings? Will he keep dragging the things? And never confess to her. Can they resist the spark they had in between them? The argue to kiss! ***This is a very twisted romantic love story that stirs hearts, that at times leaves you breathless and that manages to make us believe that, and love can do all things. Peek into Ashiyaan and Avinash's beautiful journey of finding love, hope, and magic in their own universe, which holds a passionate spark in between them.*** And Hey!! It was my first work obviously and I'm very much happy and excited to announce that this story is complete and edited. Shower your love on my book. Sure you are gonna love it.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.

[Is it wrong to fall in love with someone who already belongs to another?] One day, a post I stumbled upon caught my eye. The most liked comment was a brazen boast from a self-proclaimed mistress: [Dating isn't marriage. If you can steal the heart of someone taken, you deserve to keep it. If they don't love their partner enough to stay loyal, their partner is the real outsider in the relationship.] [I took my husband from another woman. He was just a broke college student back then, but I knew who he really was. He's the only son of the country's wealthiest man!] [His ex only knew how to study and work. She had no idea how to keep a man. How unfortunate! I heard she never even got her diploma. Her life must be miserable now.] I stared at the comment for a long time because I recognized the woman who wrote it. Her name was Camila. She was talking about me. Miserable? I was now a famous attorney, renowned for never having lost a case, and I had also adopted a sweet daughter. My life was anything but 'miserable'. I blocked the author of the comment and assumed our paths would never cross again. However, fate had other ideas. While taking my daughter for her passport application, I ran into some people from my past in the most dramatic way possible. Camila used her position to make things difficult for me. My ex-boyfriend Alexander stood by her side and even threatened me, phone in hand. "Apologize to my wife, or I'll have my father hire that so-called 'Victory Queen'. We'll sue you until you lose everything!" I smiled and said, "Go ahead and call that lawyer." The next second, my phone rang.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

My CEO wife has a habit of rewarding top-performing employees with a private dinner. After seven years of being secretly married to her, I finally pushed myself to the limit—working around the clock for an entire month, nearly coughing up blood—just to land the number-one spot and finally earn that public dinner date with my own wife. But Alexia gave the spot to an intern instead. "Caleb just joined the team. He needs some motivation and encouragement. As my husband, you need to be understanding. Next time, if you close over ten million in sales, I'll definitely give you the spot—and I'll even throw in a diamond wedding ring worth a million." For the sake of the company and our marriage, I let it slide. Then I closed a ten-million-dollar deal and showed up at the restaurant we'd agreed on. She never came. No calls, no texts. I was about to head back to the office to find her when I saw Caleb's post on social media: a candlelit dinner with my wife, and on his ring finger—the very ring she'd promised me. His caption read: [Family keeps asking when I'm getting married? Don't worry—my girlfriend, the CEO, showed up with a ring to save the day.] Coworkers flooded the comments with excitement. I calmly left a comment of my own. My wife, who had been MIA for six hours, immediately called me in a panic. "Don't get the wrong idea! It was just a dare—he lost a game, that's all. You're still my husband. I just loaned him the ring for a minute. Once the game's over, I'll get it right back to you." But I don't want the ring or her anymore. "Don't bother. Let's get a divorce."

My billionaire parents, Gerald Voight and Diane Westwood, were afraid my sister, Claire Voight, and I would grow spoiled if we stayed in luxury, so they pulled us out of the city's best prep school and sent us to study in a remote mountain town. On the way there, locals knocked us unconscious and sold us into a brutal trafficking ring. I found a way to contact my parents and begged them to save us, but they said I was lying. "Being sent to the mountains means you were trafficked? You really were raised too soft. You can't handle even a little hardship." "Kids there get into college by fighting their way out. Learn to do the same. Stop depending on us for everything." They blocked my sister's number and mine before I could explain. To survive, my sister and I escaped after three days without food, but when we tried to buy tickets out of the county, the ticket clerk refused us. "Sorry, miss. We've received instructions from the Voight family. You're not allowed to leave the county by any method, unless it's for college." We couldn't get away. The traffickers dragged us back. Later, my sister died from the tortures in a filthy basement. I was luckier. At my last breath, undercover anti-trafficking officers found me. I held my sister's ashes and fled to the farthest city from home. Then our cousin, Jenna Reed, posted a photo from her overseas school. [Uncle Gerald and Aunt Diane are just like my real parents. They give me the best love.] She tagged me on purpose, the way she always did, hoping I'd be provoked into questioning her. This time, I only liked the post and replied: [If you're willing, they can be your real parents. You can be their only daughter.]

In the third year of my eating disorder, my husband, Nikolai Hollowell, is the only person who still insists on making me eat. Even when I vomit until I'm a trembling mess, he will make another dish for me again half an hour later. He coaxes gently yet stubbornly, "Have one more bite of the apple slice, Emi." But the moment I smell the food, I throw up again until I can barely breathe. That night, I make another post on X to ask for help. "How is someone with an eating disorder supposed to keep living?" The top comment says, "Get a boyfriend who's a chef! My darling cooks different dishes for me every single day, all 365 days without repeating once. Even the apple slices he cuts are shaped like cute little bunnies, so I absolutely love eating now." Someone replies enviously, "Wow! Where do you find a man like that?" She answers, "Find one? Good men like that no longer circulate on the market. He is actually married. His wife has had anorexia for three years. She has become only skin and bones. "He says just looking at her kills his appetite, and he does not even want to touch her. Well, I'm nothing like her. I always finish every dish he makes." My breathing catches in my throat. This morning, Nikolai personally made bunny-shaped apple slices for me. My fingertips turn cold as I tap into the woman's profile. Her caption reads, "Wow! If your wife won't eat bunny-shaped apple slices, then I will!" Attached is a photo of a man's long, elegant fingers holding an apple slice up to the woman's mouth. And the one reflected in her starry eyes after zooming in—is a face identical to Nikolai's.