Smallville Chloe Sullivan Novels & Stories

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."

The day I dissolved the mate bond, I called my childhood friend to pick me up. I had a bank card with barely any balance left, my phone, and the same clothes I had worn the day I moved into this house. That was everything I owned after all those years living in the pack. My mate, Derek Anderson, called to say I had left a few things behind. "Forget it. Just throw them away." He seemed reluctant to give up. "Your son keeps saying he wants to see you." I dragged my suitcase behind me and walked away without looking back. "Tell him he'll have a new mom soon. The one he's always wanted." Like father, like son. They even fell for the same woman. In the past, I would have asked myself, 'Why won't they even look at me? I've given them so much.' Now, I felt nothing. If they didn't love me, then so be it. I would let them go and let myself go in the process too. My childhood best friend, Eric Keaton, helped me with my luggage and opened the door of his Maybach. I said one last thing to my mate. "I won't ever disturb you and your son again." After a long time, he found me. He grabbed my arm like a madman and stared at me in despair. "Leah Sullivan, why don't you care about us anymore?"

On my birthday, my mafia husband, Alessandro, didn't come home to celebrate with me. He sent a bodyguard with a bouquet of wilting roses and a text message: [Picked these myself from the garden. Happy birthday, love.] A moment later, his right-hand woman, Chloe, posted an Instagram story. It was a fifty-thousand-dollar custom flower box, filled with black roses, their petals embedded with crushed diamonds. The caption read: [My Capo says, "If you love me, you show me devotion that never dies."] I didn't storm the casino to confront him. I just packed my bags and prepared to leave the city. The first day I was gone, word got back to me that Alessandro couldn't care less. He blew a ring of cigar smoke and said, "The world out there is dangerous. She'll be back in a few days, begging me to take her back." The first month I was gone, Alessandro tracked me down with an international call. "I'll buy you a villa in the Heights. Just come back, okay?" But a villa was never what I wanted.

Just before the new school term started, my daughter's parent group chat, which had been quiet for ages, suddenly announced that the first parent-teacher meeting of the semester would be held that night. The rule was: both parents had to attend. A long string of "Got it" followed. I was about to reply when I noticed someone had beaten me to it. A guy with a family photo as his profile picture sent a voice message. "I'm Emma Sullivan's dad. We'll be there!" I froze. I clicked into the member list and checked repeatedly. My daughter's name was Emma Sullivan. He said he was Emma's dad. Then who the hell was I? I immediately called my wife. Before I could say a word, I heard her cheerful voice. "Honey, my best friend just asked me to dinner tonight. I'm bringing our daughter. Just make something at home yourself, and get some sleep early." My heart skipped a beat. Her best friend's husband was my good friend. He had just posted a family vacation photo from the Maldives on his social media. There was no way she was meeting her for dinner that night. I paused for a second, then smiled and said, "Sounds good." I hung up, called a car, and headed straight to my daughter's school. Let's find out exactly who my daughter's other father was.

17-year old Star Sullivan was no stranger to loss, having recently endured the heartbreaking passing of her parents. Struggled to come to terms with her grief, she found herself uprooted from her familiar surroundings and thrust into a new town under the care of her godparents. The weight of her sorrow hung heavy on her shoulders casting a shadow over her once bright spirit. Star navigates the unfamiliar street and faces of her new home, a glimmer of intrigue caught her eye - a student with eyes as silver as moonlight, a captivating mystery etched in every glance. Drawn to this enigmatic figure, she found herself unable to resist the pull of curiosity that tugged at her heart. His mysterious past whispered secrets that beckoned to be unraveled, a puzzle waiting to be pieced together. With each passing day, Star found herself entangled in a web of intrigue and emotion, her heart torn between the allure of the unknown and the safety of familiarity. As the threads of secrets began to unravel, revealing truths that shook the foundation of her newfound life, Star stood at a crossroads, her heart torn asunder. Would she choose to stand by her new friends and family, embracing the complexities of their intertwined destinies, or would she heed the call of uncertainty, fleeing to the safety of the hills, away from the tumultuous storm that threatened to consume her? Only time held the answers to the questions that plagued her restless mind. The clock ticked away, each passing moment a reminder of the choices that lay ahead, the paths diverging into the unknown. In the quiet of the night, as the stars whispered tales of destiny and fate, Star found herself standing on the precipice of a decision that would shape the course of her future.

The new project was short on staff. Over everyone's objections, I pulled three former colleagues out of an overlooked department where they'd been warming the bench for years. The four of us became the project's core team. The bonus was generous, the workload light. They all said I was their lucky charm. Three months later, with delivery just around the corner, I passed the break room and overheard them talking. "The biggest credit for this project belongs to the three of us. Why should Chloe get an equal share of the bonus just because she recommended us? She barely did any real work." "Exactly. Let's talk to the director. We'll say all the core work was done by us, that she's not up to the task. We'll apply to have her removed from the contributors list." "Just thinking about not having to split those tens of thousands with her—it feels amazing." I pushed the door open. They stared at me, stunned. I smiled. They wanted to kick me out? Too bad. I was the director who parachuted in to evaluate them.

Grandpa died, and we immediately went for each other's throats over the inheritance. Then a blizzard hit, trapping us all in the family estate. An app appeared on our phones: [THE LAST ZOMBIE: FINAL RECKONING]. We had to pick a hiding spot. The last one standing—the last human standing—would inherit everything. I chose the dark, silent recording studio in the basement. Away from them all. When it was time to pick special powers, my family chose powerful weapons or pocket dimensions full of supplies. I chose Bio-Stasis. It slowed my cells to a crawl, and my body along with them. My stepbrother's fiancée, Chloe, called me an idiot. "Hiding from your family and picking a useless power? You're on a suicide mission." They threw a zombie-slaying party upstairs, already celebrating an inheritance they hadn't even won. Until, one by one, they turned. And started tearing each other apart. What they didn't know... was that I'd rigged the game from the start. The only way to win was to stay completely silent.

"Why did you leave the party in such a hurry earlier?" Ignoring her sarcasm, Kaleb changed the subject. He just had to ask! The audacity he had! Sasha smirked. "Did you want to enjoy seeing the girl you just a few minutes ago making a friendly chat with your girlfriend?" she snapped, her wound reopened. "Oh, so you left because of Claire?" Again, Kaleb's voice was mocking. "No, I left because of me," Sasha recoiled, and it was her stupidity sending him a text. "And what about you and Samson? I see the way he looked at you at the party. He seems to really like you and the both of you seem really familiar with each other. What do I make out of that?" Kaleb sounded different, odd even. —---------- When Kaleb Luthor decides to move back to the town he grew up in, Sasha Sullivan is bombarded with a lot of emotions. This is a guy she has had a crush on for as long as she can remember, and this is her chance to make him see her more than just his sister's best friend. But as she gets closer to Kaleb, Sasha realizes that he's a totally different guy from the one she has built up in her head, but she still can't let him go. A one night stand was all she needed… But she isn't prepared for the consequences that one night could bring…. And what an affair with Kaleb Luthor would do to her friendship with her best friend, Tilly Luthor.

Seven years. For over 2,500 days, Ella Winters endured everything. As a looked-down-upon Omega Luna, she stayed quiet and served the Blackwood pack without complaint. Until her five-year-old son, Noah, made a birthday wish: "I want Chloe to be my new mommy." Her husband, the powerful Alpha Damien, just stood there and said nothing. That was it. Ella snapped her silver seal, releasing seven years of hidden power. She took her sweet daughter, Lily, and left for good. One year later, at a grand pack gathering, Alpha Damien finally corners her. With his usual arrogance, he commands, "You’ve thrown your tantrum for long enough, Ella. Come home." Ella just sneers. "Are you insane? We already rejected each other." Damien’s voice drops. "Without my protection, what could you possibly do in a year?" Ella smiles faintly. "Be with my new mate." Instantly, the noisy room goes dead silent. That night, Damien goes crazy. He calls her 108 times, completely losing his mind. But the submissive girl who once loved him more than life itself is never coming back.