Short Fictional Story

On our anniversary, my husband, James Marshall, purchased a painting as a gift for me with my secondary credit card. When I got home, I went to my study to retrieve an urgent court document. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the flirtatious voice of my assistant, Julie Summers, mingled with my husband’s low murmurs. “James, your wife is just a money-printing machine. What does she know about art? She could never appreciate you like I do.” James sighed. Then, in an indulgent tone, he said, “Claire is too perfect—so perfect it’s suffocating. Not like you, full of life and warmth.” Just then, my mother-in-law, Susan Marshall, called James. He put her on speakerphone. “James, you need to move faster. While Claire still trusts you, turn all her client contacts into yours. That Julie girl seems promising. She’s much easier to control than that iron-fisted career wife of yours.” I gripped the cold doorknob, listening to the pair of shameless lovers in the study and the wretched woman on the phone, and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I forwarded asset-protection filings for all my holdings to my legal team. “I’ll see you all in court, parasites.”

My father-in-law said he wanted to experience "how the young folks have fun these days," so I took him to my wife's newly opened upscale cocktail bar for a quiet drink. I’d just finished ordering him a custom cocktail when a man from a booth across the room swaggered over, glass in hand. His eyes scanned the drink menu on our table, and a condescending smirk twisted his lips. "Only ordering the cheapest well drinks?" he sneered. "Brought the old man here to enjoy the free air conditioning? Trash like you belongs in a dive bar. Who even let you in here?" Anger burned in my chest. I stood up, my jaw clenched. "We're paying customers. What's it to you?" But before I could say another word, his face darkened with pure rage. He snatched the half-finished beer bottle from our table and smashed it on my head. "My girl owns this place!" he snarled. "Even if I crack your skull open, I can afford the payout! You filthy pauper—either get on your knees and lick my shoes dry, or get the hell out of my sight. You're an eyesore." The beer dripped down my face. My hands trembled with fury as I wiped it away. Then, a cold calm settled over me. I opened my phone, switched to the camera, and went live. "Alright, everyone," I said into the screen. "You won't want to miss this. We're going live to catch my cheating wife and see the double life she's been leading."

At the class session joined by the school leaders and officials from the Department of Education, my lecture PPT was swapped for a sensational "Mistress's Charge Letter". "Charge one. Willingly being the other woman makes her an unsuitable role model for students." "Charge two. Attempting to secure a higher position through sex." "Charge three. Menacing the lawful wife with the absurd hope of advancing through pregnancy." Amidst the leaders and officials, my husband's illegitimate child accused me of disrupting her parents' marriage. In the name of "expelling the mistress to achieve justice", she coerced me, the true wife, into a humiliating bow to the mistress. I confronted my husband upon his arrival, "Care to explain? Why didn't I know that you had an illegitimate daughter?" He responded with a strike to the girl's face. "Where are you from, you unruly child? You're so ill-mannered!"

Feisty, witty and assertive, Wynn Mayfield speaks her mind and refuses to settle for anything in life- especially men. She is nicknamed the Romance Widow because of her list of standards topped by fictional men- a list she uses as a weapon against any chance of romance. Life is going pretty well for her, and she couldn't be more satisfied. That is, until Ethan Sterling; her highschool bully and first love- the one responsible for her worst heartbreak- shows up and turns her world upside down with a confession of love. Gentle, warm and innocently charming with an unshakable optimism, Ethan Sterling is anything BUT the bully she knew in highschool. Wynn wants him gone, but he is a formidable foe. Determined to win her over, he challenges her list: He will prove his love by beating the standards set by her favourite fictional men. Witty banters, a chance for revenge, hilarious fails and romantic tension. Will Ethan succeed in capturing Wynn's heart?

Forbidden fruits have always tasted the sweetest and one deliciously tempting bite is all it takes to reel you in. Filthy, Dirty Desires is a collection of short, steamy and graphically explicit stories perfect for readers searching for a temporary escape into a wild, pleasure-filled world where you can be whomever you want to be with zero judgements attached. Each story spans across three to five chapters with raw, undiluted smut. Due to the volume of explicit content in this book, it is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.

André D'Amore: I've known my whole life who I am. I'm a hybrid, Alpha heir, and too fabulous to be straight. I've lost count of how many times I've had to fight to defend my . Yet, I never expected to have to defend it from my mate. Not my problem that he's spent his life unaware he was in a closet. He needs to get his act together. Because my papa is naming me Alpha of the pack, we just defeated. And I want my mate at my side. Darren Delaney: I always thought I knew myself. That I knew my wolf, I've always been a soldier, a warrior, and I'm straight. One assignment has me questioning everything. I thought finding my mate would be the happiest day of my life. Instead, it's the most confusing. My mate is the hybrid SON of the Incubi Alpha?! The Goddess got her wires crossed with this pairing. Now I'm questioning my as he's drawing me in like a moth to a flame. This is a sequel to Alpha of Nightmares. Events in this book overlap with events in Alpha of Nightmares. This book can be read as a standalone, though it is encouraged to read Alpha of Nightmares. The Incubi Pack Series: Book 1 - Alpha of Nightmares Book 2 - The Hybrid Alpha Book 3 - Dream Mate Anthology Short Story - Chosen Mate Anthology Bonus Story - Sicilian Holiday Anthology Short Story - The Quiet Giant's Mate Book 4 - Beta's Innocent Mate

While preparing for the SATs at the library, my brother is accidentally shot and injured, causing him to bleed profusely. I pass by this scene but turn a blind eye and quicken my pace to leave. This is because in my previous life, when I saw him, I rushed him to the hospital in a panic. He had intracranial hemorrhaging, and he urgently needed surgery. I quickly called my mom, the top neurosurgeon in the city, begging her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. However, she thought I was jealous that she had taken my adopted sister to the beach instead of spending time with me. She also believed I had fabricated the story about my brother's injury, and thus refused to return. By the time my dad and the rest of the family hurried to the hospital, it was too late for rescue efforts—my brother had passed away. The whole family blamed me for his death. They were convinced that I had deliberately misled my mom and delayed his critical treatment. When my mom returned from out of town, she lost her composure and pushed me down the stairs, watching coldly as I bled to death. After opening my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother was shot at the library.

She was just a girl trying to survive school. He was a man built from secrets, scars, and power. At eighteen, Aera Summer Santiago never expected to be married—especially not to Hans Calix Devraux, the billionaire with a reputation for control and cruelty. Driven by power and obsession, Calix would do anything to possess her—whether through force… or persuading. Forced into his world, trapped in his mansion. She’ll learn that love with Calix isn’t soft. It’s sharp. Brutal. Addictive. And once he’s claimed her— he’ll never let her go. .... DISCLAIMER This story is intended for audiences 18 years old and above. It is entirely fictional, created purely from imagination. Names, places, events, and characters are not based on real people or incidents. This genre contains dark romance, obsession, and possessiveness, with themes of violence and emotional tension. If you are uncomfortable with stories involving such content, this narrative may not be suitable for you. Read at your own risk.

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."