Sleeping Feet Story Novels & Stories

In my past life, I was trafficked and gave birth to a son. When Noah Barrett turns six, I plan to take him and escape from the mountains. On my first attempt, I map out the route in advance and prepare to flee with him. But in the morning, my mother-in-law, Ruth Whitaker, blocks me at the door. She ties me up and locks me inside the shed. Then, she starves me for three days. On my second try, I secretly buy sleeping pills from an unlicensed village doctor and slip them into dinner. At the table, Ruth flips the table without hesitation and beats me until I am half dead. The third time, I take advantage of a village meeting and escape with Noah again. We hide in a concealed mountain cave. Neither of us makes a sound, yet Ruth finds us with ease. I am dragged back and locked away in the pigpen. Ruth takes a shovel and strikes me with it again and again. "You filthy bitch. You dare run off with my precious grandson!" Her eyes are bloodshot. With the final blow, she uses all her strength and smashes the shovel into my head. I collapse to the ground. My consciousness fades. My blood drains away, and I die. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I plan to escape the mountains with Noah. Suddenly, I can hear Noah's thoughts, his voice clear and dripping with viciousness. "Mom can't be allowed to run. Grandma says Mom is our family's slave. She's supposed to serve us for her whole life."

After returning home from abroad, I took a job as a driver to broaden my horizons. However, I got hired to drive a car with my dad’s car plate, and the location I was sent to was the city’s largest nightclub. I was suspicious about the location where I would pick up the car and the client. When I arrived, I found a bunch of people buttering up the poor student my family used to sponsor. “Have you had fun today, Mr. Morgan?” they asked. “If you’re unhappy with the ladies tonight, we’ll make sure there are better ones tomorrow night!” It was only when he called me that I realized he was my client. I went and questioned him about why he was driving my dad’s car, but he kicked me to the ground. “How dare a mere driver try to scam me? Get down on your knees and kiss my feet!” Then, he ordered his bodyguards to hold me down. They made me do as he asked. He went so far as to press cigarettes into my face, burning me. I withstood the pain and sent a photo of my dad’s car to my family’s group chat. [Dad, why are you going to Dreamscape behind Mom’s back and hiring girls for a night out?]

They tried to take everything from her: her sanity, her pride, and her daughter. Cast out into a storm by her own husband, Avery Reed was branded a disgrace simply for giving birth to a daughter. Her enemies called her unstable and labeled her child a failure, and for a moment, she almost believed them. Until he arrived. Ashton Knight wasn't just a man from her past; he was a billionaire who could buy and burn his enemies' worlds to the ground. He offered her protection within his fortress of luxury, promising to turn her tears into ammunition and her wounds into strength. Her enemies thought they were fighting a broken woman, but they had no idea that behind her now stood a king, ready to burn their entire dynasty to ash. As she takes refuge in his dangerous embrace, Avery must wonder... does she only want justice, or does she want his heart as well?

Landon Mikaelson knew he made a terrible mistake when he let his wife out the door and out of his life permanently. It was supposed to be an arranged marriage between the both of them. A deal to act like a married couple for a year and a half but circumstances began to pave way for mutual feelings he didn't want. So he divorced her and let her go which turned his life around for the worse but something takes him to her door and making him plead for a second chance,a secret kept by her that changed their lives forever. What is it??. Well find out yourself.

After I secure a hundred-million-dollar business deal for the company, I receive a commission worth a million dollars. When I'm off to ask for maternity leave, the intern, Violet Lintell, shoots a nasty glance at my belly. "You really are a capable one, aren't you? Many of us have participated in the project, and yet all of our commissions aren't as lucrative as yours even when added together." I can tell that she's being passive-aggressive right now, so I respond to her as patiently as I can. "President Kinsley won't skim everyone out on their commissions. I'm just receiving my own commission based on the salary standards." I never know that Violet gets massively triggered by my response instead. She jumps to her feet and points at me instantly. "Everyone can tell that President Kinsley shows extra concern toward you and your unborn baby! You slept with him in exchange for this project, didn't you? "You're just taking advantage of the fact that you're pregnant with President Kinsley's child, aren't you? Even if you are pregnant with his child, you're nothing but a despicable mistress!" I'm perplexed, to say the least. Does Violet seriously think that I've sold my body just to steal my colleagues' resources from them? But the thing is, President Kinsley, who—according to Violet—is showing extra concern toward me, is actually my mother! How the heck am I even pregnant with my own mom's child, to begin with?

"I know you're an ace divorce attorney. Please help me!" A young woman who's holding a child suddenly barges into the law firm and gets down on her knees in front of me. I'm about to help her up to her feet when a few live comments appear in front of my eyes. "This really is a doomed story. I can't believe the FMC has to go through all sorts of torment before dying." "Once she gets caught, both she and her child will be dead. The MMC can only spend the rest of his life in eternal remorse." "The FMC is pretty naive, isn't she? She thinks finding herself an attorney can help her secure a divorce. The MMC is the richest man in Opalford at the end of the day, so there's no way she can file for a divorce successfully." When I spot the next comment, its contents sting my eyes immediately. "Unfortunately, this attorney is a throwaway character too. Not only does she refuse to help FMC, but she also fails to recognize her as her older sister, who has gone missing for many years."

I had a best friend who was sweet as honey but only with her mouth. Behind my back, she was a demon. She stole my boyfriend, the underboss of the Chicago Outfit. Her excuse? She wanted to keep me away from the darkness and the blood, so she'd take the suffering in my place. She pawned her wedding ring and fed her husband some story about a limited edition bag for me. She skimmed from her husband's company accounts and pinned it on my male escort habit. She was pregnant and still wanted thrills. So she went to a full-blown orgy with her husband's uncle and a group of his associates. That's how she ended up hemorrhaging. But somehow it was my fault. I was the one who organized that kind of party, according to her. And her story? She tried to stop me, so I pushed her down and made her lose the baby. In the end, her husband sent me to a cartel hellhole in Mexico to atone for my sins. There, her lover sold me to the red-light district. First came the addiction. Then the streets. I served every man in their outfit, one after another. My body rotted. I died slow, sick, and alone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night my best friend miscarried because of her own filthy party.

As soon as I receive my year-end bonus, I transfer 100 thousand dollars to my wife, Zoe Steele, so that she can prepare the holiday gifts for both families right away. I even tell her to buy the best quality gifts for our parents, especially the box of premium liquor meant for my dad. On New Year's Eve, I rush home to have dinner with my parents. But weirdly enough, Dad, who's an avid drinker, starts having tea instead of liquor at the dining table. This leaves me perplexed. "Dad, why aren't you cracking open a bottle of liquor for yourself during the holidays?" With a smile on my face, I get up to my feet so that I can carry the box of liquor over. "Zoe had someone buy the liquor for you, you know. I hear that the taste is exceptional." "Stop!" Dad slams his pipe against the table loudly, his face a starking shade of crimson. "Edgar, don't ever send such gifts home. I know that life is difficult for you in the city and that making money is hard. We Kennedys may be poor, but we are people with pride! "Now, everyone in the village is gossiping about us behind our backs! They claim that I've been boasting about your wealth!" Dad's words confuse me to no end. After I unscrew a bottle of liquor, I sip from it, only to feel thunderstruck. This isn't premium liquor at all! This is just mineral water packaged as liquor!

My father raised me on one principle: fair exchange. If I wanted anything, I had to earn it myself. Fifty cents for washing the dishes. A dollar for mopping the floor. Five dollars for a perfect score on a test. To buy the pair of white sneakers I had been dreaming of, I spent three months collecting recyclables. In that house, I lived like a pieceworker, paid by the task. It was not until my senior year of high school that everything began to crack. I collapsed during morning study, my body worn down by years of malnutrition. The doctor said I needed better nutrition. My father stood by my hospital bed and started doing the math. "Three hundred for the hospital stay. Two hundred for medication. Chester, this all goes on your tab for the future." I turned my head and saw a boy in a school uniform in the next bed. His father was feeding him spoonfuls of chicken soup, his eyes red with worry. In that moment, the world I had known for 18 years fell apart. It turned out not every child had to earn their parents' love. After I was discharged, I went home and saw the pair of designer sneakers on my brother's feet; it was worth thousands. That was when I finally woke up. I tore up the family photo and, without hesitation, applied to the college farthest from home. Ten years later, my father called me in tears. My brother had taken all his retirement savings, sold the house, and run off with his girlfriend. He was left with nothing. No home. No one. I smiled and tossed him a rag. "Want a place to stay? Sure. It's 50 cents per window. Earn your own rent."

The son of a well known billionaire is hunted down by his father's numerous enemies. But what the young boy doesn't know is that his father's rivals are not the only ones interested in seeing him buried six feet beneath the earth's surface. A story of love, heartbreak and betrayal. Who will be last one standing unscathed? Find out more in the action novel of His Assassin's Love.