Purple Phone

After nine rejections, Alpha Caleb mends my broken heart. For the first time, I’m not ashamed of who I am. I love him to death. But then I start to notice the secret late-night phone calls, the unexplained absences, and excuses that never add up. I want to believe him. To trust him with my life. And to prove that I do, I reveal the Fate pack’s most dangerous secret. It’s the location of our crescent seal, the power that binds every member together. But I wake up to chained wrists afterwards. My pack is gone. Caleb betrayed me. He’s the Alpha of the Silver pack, our sworn enemy, and he just used me to destroy my loved ones. Of all my mates, he’s the devil. And now… I’m carrying his child.

My daughter, Tina, locked herself in her room, crying so hard her body shook. I pried the door open and saw that she was clutching a test paper that was torn to shreds and pieced back together. It was a math Olympiad selection test. She should have gotten a perfect score, but was given a score of zero instead. "Mom," she sobbed, "the teacher said 3x5 is not equal to 5x3; that it's taking shortcuts. She tore my paper up in front of everyone, revoked my eligibility for the competition, and told the whole class not to talk to me…" I looked at the deep red scratch marks on my daughter's wrist and immediately picked up the phone to call the principal. "What good does it do for your school's reputation to drive a kid who loves math to their breaking point?"

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected. "Who, who, who are you?" She became a heavy stutterer in an instant. The man who stood at the door to the kitchen walked forward and the light illuminated his features. He was lean and tall, very tall. Dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and dark suit pants, the few exposed parts of his body were ashen, lifeless and cold, like a bleak winter day. "Marry me." These were the two words that came from the deathly pale lips of his emotionless face... ********** Moving away from her overprotective parents, Geneva thought that she could finally lead a stress-free life. This was ruined when a ghost demands intimacy with her, his soulmate, to recover his lost memories and body.

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

Fresh out of the National Research Institute, I loaded up on my wife's favorite snacks and ordered a vibrant bouquet of roses, eager to surprise her. I stashed the treats in her office, then stepped out to grab the flowers. But in those fleeting minutes, a stranger had ripped open every package and devoured everything. I glared at him. "Who gave you permission to touch those?" He shot me a look of pure disdain. "Buzz off, flower boy. Drop your crap and scram!" The secretary at the door snickered. "You heard the man. He's Ms. Bowman's husband. Better run before he leaves a bad review." I pulled out my phone and called my wife. "Who is this guy in your office?"

On the suit jacket her husband had just taken off, Hannah noticed a lipstick stain,one that definitely wasn’t hers. Yet at that very moment, her husband was clasping around her neck a one-of-a-kind gemstone necklace in celebration of their 7th wedding anniversary. Later, when she found a single strand of golden hair that didn't belong to her too, a seed of doubt quietly took root in her heart. Still, her husband's tenderness, his unwavering attention and love, made her question her own suspicions. Could she really be imagining things? Until she saw the photo on the phone— Her husband, in bed with another woman. He really had betrayed her! And that woman… was the friend she had trusted most.

They’ve hated each other forever. Top grades? They fight for it. School captain? They both ran—then sabotaged each other. Even the last drink at the vending machine turns into war. They argue like it’s a sport. Compete like it’s life or death. Fists have flown. So have insults. Everyone knows: they can’t stand each other. But then—one night, her phone buzzes. A message. From him. Weird. They don’t text. Not unless it’s to throw shade. She opens it… and nearly drops her phone. It’s him. Shirtless. Smirking. Sweaty. The lighting is low, his eyes unreadable. Not a word, just a photo. Not a joke. Not a dare. And for the first time in years… She doesn’t know if this is war or something much, much worse.

I plan on ordering some food using my husband's phone, yet I've noticed a remark that's been saved on the delivery app. "The food is for a pregnant lady. Please make sure to be hygienic and use less oil and salt when making the dishes." I can feel my heart sink. I turn my gaze toward the bathroom, where my husband is. I can't figure out why my husband, who's been firm about not wanting a child, has been ordering meals for pregnant women. After a moment of hesitation, I scroll through the delivery app's order history with shaky hands. Numerous orders have been placed with the same restaurant, one that specializes in making exquisite dishes designed for pregnant women. Each of these food orders costs more than ten thousand dollars. My husband's company address has been chosen as the delivery address, and he's also the recipient. … After exiting the delivery app, I sit on the couch and stare into space. As I look at my husband's well-defined muscles, I recall how he, who's about to hit 40, is suddenly quite invested in getting in shape over the past year. I blurt out asking, "Have you been ordering food to your office often lately?" My husband freezes for a split second. Then, he fixes me with a gentle gaze. "I do that once in a while. Why are you suddenly asking about that? By the way, I haven't had the sweet and sour meatballs you make in a long while. Can you make some for me so that I can bring them to the office for my lunch tomorrow?" I smile at him and agree to his request. Still, I toss and turn in bed as the remark about the pregnant lady in his phone keeps gnawing at me that night.

Blurb: "You're mine! You're my wife. You're fucking MINE" my husband roared furiously while he was pushing me towards the wall. I lowered my hand to protect my belly, he didn't know that I'm pregnant yet. "I will never leave you, I will never let you go. I'm drowning without you" he whispered desperately this time, leaning his forehead on mine. My eyes were cloudy, I lifted my other hand and caressed his cheek. I know that he needs me, I know he wants me, but not as a wife. He just needs my body, it always about my body and sex, and it will always be just about them. He needs me to be his submissive. His sex slave. With trembling voice I mumbled, "I'm not, Raf. I'm not yours. We can't be together, we came to the end of this useless marriage" His phone rang. It was Debbie, the other woman! He tightened his jaw and clenched his fists and said, "I wil take this call and get back to finish our talk" Once he left the room, my tears flowed like a river on my burning cheeks. I knew it, he will always choose her. I wiped my tears harshly and made a phone call, "I'm leaving, can you take me to the airport?.." Trembling, I took a step towards my closet to put something on to hide the bruises on my body. ________ I'm Natalie, this is my story. I loved my husband with all of my heart. Although he was dark, vicious, and sadistic. I was his little dirty secret. We got married under some circumstances. No one ever knew about this marriage. I made my decision, I will never go back to him. I will never let him treat me like his submissive again, NEVER!

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.