Siblings Group Chat Name Novels & Stories

In the fifth year of our bland marriage, I receive a message that my husband has booked a hotel room with a woman. Within the next second, seductive pictures of me show up in the work group chat. In the pictures, I seduced my husband but failed. My colleagues in the group chat mock me by saying, "She gave Mr. Reed an ultimatum and forced him to marry her. He was forced to break up with the woman he loves." "Mr. Reed put up with her for five years. It only makes sense that he could no longer resist and decide to reunite with his lover." My sick father dies out of shock, yet my husband does not show up to his funeral. That night, I inform Belinda that I wish to divorce her son. "Back then, you told me that I'm Caleb's blessing in life. You said that he'd have endless success if we were to marry. "As long as I married Caleb for five years, you promised to pay for my father's medical fees. Now that the time is up, you should let me go too."

On the day I was promoted to department head, I invited my parents on a trip during the Independence Day holiday. However, my mother invited my older sister, Anna Smith, and her entire family. She even posted about it on her social media. [My eldest daughter is so filial. The first thing she does after getting her salary is to invite me on a trip.] Anna replied: [It's only right to be filial to your parents.] Our relatives all praised Anna and even sent messages in the family chat group, telling me to learn from her. I silently looked at my mother's post on social media and canceled the supplementary card I gave her. This time, I wanted to see how they kept up that loving mother and dutiful child act.

My husband, Jared Smith, let me take his spot for a highland vacation. After I departed, I found out that I won a random lottery that I had bought before for $50 million. In order to not delay the redemption of the lottery ticket, I took a red-eye flight back home and wanted to share the news with Jared. Before I went into the house, I heard his smug laugh. “That jacket belongs to Sammy, I’m sure! That dumb witch has been eaten by a bear! I’m so glad that Penny and I sent her on that trip.” It just so happened that the tour group chat sent a video of a member being eaten by a brown bear. My jacket was bloody. However, I was not the one who had been wearing that jacket. It had been his lover, Penny Lee.

Today happens to be Yvonne Ziegler's birthday. Yvonne is Shawn Jacobson's, my husband's, newly hired personal assistant. Shawn spares no expense in buying her a villa as a birthday present, and Yvonne haughtily takes to social media to show off on the day she moves in. "I'd like everyone to know that I'm married to a wealthy man now." Shawn comments on the post, saying, "Happy birthday, my beloved Yvonne!" In the picture, Shawn's hand rests intimately on Yvonne's slender waist, leaving no doubt about their intimate relationship. In that instant, the company's group chat erupts into a frenzy of notifications, as colleagues declare their envy of Yvonne and heap praise upon her for being young and accomplished. Oscar Jagger, my childhood friend, notices the picture and immediately tags me in the group chat. He then sends me a pointed, teasing message, saying, "Shawn's display of love is so glaring! Congrats on being cheated on, Leslie!" I manage a bitter, wry smile, taking my time to type out the response. "Do you need a villa as well, Oscar? I'm happy to give you a place—a much nicer one than Shawn's, of course."

Royal academy, the academy is as old as man, many Generation has pass through it, the school was established by some certain rich families. The school is controlled by a group of people called the EDICT. The school isn't what it seems to be,every year student are either missing or being killed. Katherine Griffin was admitted into the academy. She met some group friend and they name the group THE CIRCLE. They are to investigate what happening in the academy. Will they survive, will they find the mystery behind the school.

After Christmas, I went on a vacation. For the trip back, I failed to get a train ticket with a sleeping berth. Thus, I was tired and mussed when I got home. When I opened the door, someone shoved a bunch of cleaning tools at me. The man sneered at me and commanded, “Hurry up! You need to finish cleaning this place before 6:00 p.m.!” I looked at him and saw that he was wearing my father’s silk pajamas. I took a few steps back to check that yes, this was my family’s two-story mansion. It was my home, but who was this man? And what was this about cleaning? Did the man intend for me to clean? I was the son of the owners of the house! I messaged the family’s group chat and mentioned my mother. The message read, [@Mom, your boytoy is asking me to clean the place up. What gives?]

After I started working at the zoo, I was added to a group chat called “A Hundred Ways to Kill a Human.” Every member had an animal as their profile picture. At first, I thought it was some quirky staff group. I even found it kind of cute. That was, until I realized they were discussing how to eat me. Pedro the Parrot: [The new human has beautiful eyes. I can’t wait till Christmas. I want to peck them out right now!] George the Gorilla: [Relax. There’ll be many visitors during Christmas. We’ll have more eyeballs than we can eat! Also, I’m calling dibs on her thigh.] Thor the Tiger: [Nobody’s taking her head, right? That’s mine.] Tucker the Elephant: [I’m a vegetarian, but I can crush her bones to dust.]

My Rival Bragged About Her Don Husband, But He Was My Secret Husband I was the heiress of a Mafia family. Since I always kept a low profile, the head cheerleader Selena Hartwell mocked me throughout high school. After graduation, I cut contact with every last classmate and threw myself into family business. Then, just as our family was reestablishing its foothold on the East Coast, an old high school group chat blew up. Selena went crazy tagging me: "Ava Costanzo, I'm getting married — and my husband is a Don! I'm ordering you to come to my wedding!" The wedding photo she posted showed the groom cropped out, but I recognized the cufflinks. The man beside her was Julian Moretti, the second son of the Moretti family, a crew that couldn't even manage two shipping routes without leaning on us.

My father was hospitalized with a fractured bone. He needed someone to look after him. My wife, Alma, who was also a doctor, said she had to attend the Lancet conference abroad. She claimed it was an event she could not miss. While I was caring for my father, my younger brother, Jack, forwarded a short video to me. “Clyde, you need to look at this video of Alma.” In the video, Alma, who always took great care of her hands, was assembling parts on an assembly line at an electronics factory. I looked up info on who uploaded the photo. It was Tobias Zidel, a male nurse from her department. He captioned the video: [From the operating table to my assembly line. A true woman of all trades!] I resisted the urge to confront her. Instead, I forwarded the video to the department’s group chat. [I wonder how much Dr. Ashford earns per day working at Mr. Zidel’s family factory?] The group chat instantly exploded with messages. The video spread across the entire hospital. Alma bombarded me with frantic phone calls. She demanded that I retract the message. “Come with a written apology on Monday. You will apologize to Mr. Zidel publicly during the meeting!” I hung up decisively. Then, I scheduled an appointment to file for divorce. I did not want a wife like this.

I sat in the driver's seat as the GPS chimed, "You've arrived at Northpoint Corp. Check-in successful." I looked up. Graves. Nothing but graves. My phone buzzed. My boss tagged me in the group chat: [Zane Zander, system says you checked in ten minutes ago. Where the hell are you? The whole company's waiting. Learned how to spoof your GPS to slack off?] Cold sweat slid down my back. I stared at the fresh headstone outside my window. My photo was on it. My hands shook. I tried to send my boss a video—no signal. Just dead bars. No service. So how did I check in? Worse— In the rearview mirror, someone in my exact outfit rose slowly from behind a dirt mound. Could it be... Was I already "dead"?