Novel & Cerita Project Wingman Fanfic

The night before my victory gala, I heard my husband, Matteo Bellandi, promise my credit to his mistress. "Vivian, I'll put Sofia's project credit under your name. Consider it an early second-birthday gift for our son." Vivian laughed softly. "Will Sofia agree to that?" Matteo sounded bored. "She has the title of Mrs. Bellandi. That's enough." I thought I had misheard him. But the next night, my award was given to Vivian, and Matteo personally walked her onto the stage. "Young talent needs room to grow," he told the room. "From now on, Vivian will lead this project." The gala went silent. Everyone tried not to look at me. I sat in the corner Vivian had arranged for me and finally understood. Matteo had kept the title for me, then given the credit, the money, and his future to his mistress and their son. Fine. I left the ballroom without looking back. I was done being Mrs. Bellandi. From now on, I was Sofia Valenti again, the princess of Chicago’s most feared family.

On the eve of our engagement party, my fiancée, Alissa Coleman, gets a marriage certificate with her male best friend, Rhys Pritchard, and celebrates it in the bar. Yet, she acts completely unconcerned about what she has done. She says flippantly, "It was just a joke. We'll get divorced tomorrow. Everyone knows Rhys and I are just best friends." Rhys responds with a provocative grin. "Even though the marriage is just for a day, there's still a special bond between us. Are you all just enjoying the show and won't even prepare a wedding gift for us?" Everyone at the table laughs raucously. "Sure. I happen to have a project in the western suburbs. I'll give it to you as a wedding gift. But there are rules at this table. If you want it, you'll have to win it with a game of dice." I say nothing more and simply take a seat at the table. Meeting Alissa's perplexed frown that is directed at me, I flash her a small smile. "Isn't this supposed to be a dice-rolling game for wedding gifts? I'd like to play too," I said.

After helping the company secure a project worth 30 million dollars, the HR department suddenly tells me that I'm fired, and I will not be receiving any of my bonuses this year. Confused, I look for my boss, Jett Leroy, to ask him about it. However, he points his finger in my face and yells at me, "If it weren't for you being a stupid Scorpio, being the most toxic match for me and affecting the company's luck, we wouldn't have had a 30% drop in net profits this year! "I'm already generous enough by not making you compensate for all the losses you caused me! How dare you still ask me for more money? Get lost if you know what's best for you!" I smile when I read the text message notification on my phone and hurriedly sign the release documents. Jett is right. My horoscope and his definitely don't get along well. After all, I will be coming for his ass just a short while later!

During Black Friday, the intelligent system I develop helps the company run highly targeted ads and brings in 30 million dollars in revenue. But when I apply for the project bonus, the director rejects it. "The system is just an auxiliary tool. The performance belongs to the sales department." I hold back my frustration and pull up the system logs. "88% of the orders come from the system's targeted pushes. According to company policy, I should receive a 0.5% commission." The director glances at me, twirling his pen. "If the sales commission doesn't go to the sales department, should it go to you? And your lousy system exceeds the API limit and racks up extra fees. You still owe us a hundred thousand dollars. We'll deduct that from your salary." Three days before Christmas sales are set to begin, the system completely shuts down because of API restrictions. Late at night, the director calls me. I stare at my computer screen. "Since the system is just an auxiliary tool, why don't you start with manual targeting?"

Kaia has always failed to transform into a wolf despite the fact that it is normal in her world. All the other people of her age group changed at the first full moon-but not Kaia. Due to this, she has been regarded as a loser, a misfit and a shame. However, all this is different when she hears a dreadful scream in the woods and is sucked into something unusual. Her wolf awakens that night not because of the moon but something has awakened it. Kaia discovers that she is different. She was not meant to change the ordinary way. She was a subject of an experimental project, and her wolf was locked by the plan. She is now hunted by the same people who made her. Assisted by Kieran, a reckless alpha with a cold heart and a dark past, Kaia has to find out who she really is, what she was designed to do, and how to break the system that wants her to be a puppet. During the journey, Kaia and Kieran form an attachment that shakes everything they have been told. But Kaia does not have much time left. The Last Shift is coming and it may either save the werewolf world or tear it apart.

At the airport, I ran straight into Zach Martin, the man who had left me at the altar two years ago to accompany his foster sister to Apania to watch elephants. I had on sunglasses, yet he recognized me instantly in the crowd. “Tina, I’m back to marry you.” I paused for a moment. There was a flicker of doubt in my eyes. “You’re…” He gave me a helpless smile. “Hey, come on. Don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to disappear like that. After taking Yvette to see the elephants, she wanted to stick around and document everything. She’s my only sister. I had to spoil her a little. “After two years of working on the project and finishing the shoot, I rushed straight back to fulfill our engagement!” Only then did it dawn on me that this dark, scrawny man, flashing a mouthful of white teeth, was actually my former fiancé! Wait. Did nobody tell him that on the very day he ran away, I married his uncle instead?

After my fiancée returned from six months of traveling with her childhood friend, she realized I had changed. For his sake, she broke protocol and promoted him to be the CEO's personal assistant. I obediently stepped aside and gave up my position. When he took over the project I had spent three sleepless months completing, I handed it over without a fight. My fiancée found my sudden compliance strange. Her childhood friend, on the other hand, was smug about it. He said with a grin, "Looks like your cold treatment finally worked. If you want him to behave, you just have to train him like a dog." My heart was calm and unmoved as I listened to their conversation. No one knew that I had been reborn. No one knew that I had finally accepted the truth: she never loved me from the start. No matter how reluctant I felt, from this moment on, I would cut ties with her completely. One clean break, free of all entanglements.

I'm getting married. But Ryder, my boyfriend of seven years, has no idea. He recently hired a new assistant, Blair, and has been swamped ever since. The two of them are the toast of the high-society circuit, a perfect power couple frequently seen at galas and parties together. To celebrate a major project Blair landed, Ryder booked an entire restaurant for a celebratory dinner. During the dinner, Blair intentionally swapped my lemonade for a strong cocktail. Unaware, I took a large sip. Ryder just watched, smiling playfully as he asked, “How is it, baby? How does it taste?” He forgot. He forgot that I have a deadly alcohol allergy. My throat swelled shut faster than I could have imagined. As I collapsed, the only sounds were my own gasps for air and a porcelain plate shattering on the floor. That night, I lay in the family's private medical wing. When I opened my eyes, the oxygen mask was still pressed to my face. I nodded at my mother. The arranged marriage. I agreed to it.

It's Grandpa's birthday banquet, and yet my fiancee is working late again, missing her one chance to meet the family. My brother and his wife, still bitter about me taking the project from them, don't waste the opening. "What good is all his money when his fiancee can't even show up on a day this important? She clearly doesn't take him seriously." "That's why Archer's the smart one. He landed himself Claire Donovan, of all people. Even her throwaway gifts start at seven figures." I'm about to fire back when the familiar name stops me cold. My eyes lock onto the bracelet of dark wooden beads the butler carries in. It's identical to the one my fiancee just spent a fortune on a few days ago. My gaze turns to ice as I snatch the bracelet from his hands. "Return this. Tell them it's a fake, and Grandpa's furious. And didn't you want to meet my fiancee? She's walking through that door right now."

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.