Smile Precure Novels & Stories

My husband drives me out so I can meet my best friend for an afternoon tea session. That's when I discover a used condom and a stray earring wedged between the door and the front passenger seat. I'm distraught as I head to the restaurant. My best friend hugs me warmly, but the lone earring she wears pierces my heart. I don't expose them for their betrayal. Instead, I fall into bed with my husband's best friend that very night. Later, James Fullman roars and asks why I've done this to him. I smile faintly and lean into the embrace of the man beside me. "You're not the only one who can get hot and heavy in the front passenger seat, you know."

I was the perfect wife to billionaire tycoon, Lanc Arcony, until his cruelty knew no bounds. My husband, the richest man of his generation, thought he could replace me. He thought his money could erase his sins. He was a fool. Now, the woman he knew is gone, replaced by a stranger with a smile sharp enough to cut glass and a plan to match. I am a calculated risk, a seductive threat stitched into the fabric of his existence. He just doesn't realize how my every action is planned, each of word a weapon, and that everything is at stake—his company, his reputation, and his new life. But when the line between my actions and my wounded heart begins to blur, will I be the one to destroy him, or will his dark temptation consume me once more?

Will grew up in a reality where men were not allowed to cry, express their feelings, or do anything that was considered too feminine. The son of a wealthy Thai family, he was raised to be his father's successor in business, but Will wanted to go beyond that, and became an actor. Everything in his quiet world was fine, until he was invited to act in a Boyslove series, alongside Nate, the guy with the intimidating eyes. Nate wasn't very sociable, always very quiet, didn't like much physical contact, and wasn't romantic at all, all this before he met Will, the boy who made him smile and made his day happier. Wil and Nate's world is no longer the same, everything they believed in has disappeared, and now fiction seems to invade reality, feelings are not only those of their characters, and they can no longer disguise what they feel...

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband, Jaxon Wilde, walks through the door with his hundredth new mistress. From my neck, he snaps the necklace that was once our token of love and fastens it around hers. Amid the guests' jeers and mocking laughter, the lady tugs timidly at my gown and murmurs, "Mr. Wilde wants me to wear this dress tonight, Scarlett." It was a dress altered from my wedding gown ten years ago, and I wore it tonight like a fool, hoping he might remember. But now, he wants to strip his wife bare in public and give it to his mistress on the wedding anniversary. Under the weight of everyone's sneers, I look up at him and give him a genuine smile for the first time in a decade. "Let's get divorced, Jaxon."

The wedding's in half an hour, and my fiancé's assistant, this woman, just hands me this paper. Rule number one: No physical contact with him outside, not unless he explicitly permits it. Rule number two: Intimacy is to occur only when he initiates it. She is obligated to satisfy his desires at least once a month. Rule number three: He can demand his due at any time, any place, and she cannot refuse. ... After I finished reading this entire two-page contract, I had to fight to keep a smile on my face. Swallowing the fire in my gut, I called my fiancé. "Marcus, what the hell is this?" "What do you mean, 'If he fathers a child, she must raise it, no matter who the mother is'?"

After five years of marriage, my husband, Abel Brooks goes on a business trip that lasts half a year. When he returns, he brings his first love, Cora Garrett, back. She's already three months pregnant. Abel says that life is tough for her and wants her to move in with us temporarily. I object, and he tells me to know my place. His tone is scornful—it seems he's forgotten that the villa we live in was one of my wedding gifts. He and his family have leeched off me all this while. This time, I'm going to stop providing for them. I smile and call my assistant. "Draft a divorce agreement for me now. To think a live-in son-in-law would have the nerve to bring his mistress home like this."

My uncle stole money from the mafia and ran. Now, my sister has to pay the debt through marriage. But when I ruined the wedding and she tried to jump off a building, I had no choice but to take her place. ​I have to marry a man—the one I can't stop cursing and wishing to kill. Alessio motherfucking Vito is a vicious devil dressed in a fancy suit. Behind that charming smile, he paints the ground in blood and manipulates those who disobey. ​And when I disobey him, he promises to turn my life into a living hell. He wants to claim me, mark me, and destroy me. Well, that's too bad, because I'm going to ruin his life just as much as he ruined mine.

At the company's year-end awards ceremony, just as it is supposed to be my turn to go on stage and officially announce the relationship between my wife and me, my wife's first love suddenly proposes to her in front of everyone. Angela Reed does not refuse. Instead, she laughs brightly and promotes Samuel Hayden to the new department manager. Employees throughout the entire company cheer loudly for their romance. Seeing that I have no reaction, someone beside me cannot help but ask, "Ronald, you've worked for Ms. Reed for nine years. How can you show no response at all?" I smile as I walk onto the stage, take off my wedding ring, and toss it to Samuel. "How can you propose without preparing a ring? Here—it's yours."

Because to fulfill her mother's will, Maddy Howard was forced to marry the leading man in the financial world - Lukas Jacobs. Behind the dream that makes the world jealous is pain and humiliation that never ends. He deeply loves another girl that he can't have, but he monopolizes her overpoweringly. As soon as any other man approached her, jealousy and anger in him began to rise. She left heartbroken, seven years later returned to the country, next to her was another smart and intelligent child that made everyone who met him love him. He blocked the way: "Kid, I'm your father!" She helplessly hugged her son's head: "He isn't!" He flashed an evil smile: “He is my son! And you're mine!"

Three years of marriage, and I'd become known in our social circle as the ultimate doormat. My husband staying out all night, his silent treatment, bringing his first love home to flaunt in my face—through it all, I'd smile and make him hangover soup, keeping the house spotless. Everyone thought I loved him to the point of madness. Even he believed it. Until the day of the divorce, when he begged me with tears in his eyes not to leave—and then watched "me" collapse rigid to the floor after a power outage, revealing a charging port on the back of my neck. He lost his mind. Meanwhile, the real me was lying on a beach in the Maldives, running my fingers through the hair of a gorgeous twenty-something with a six-pack, cheerfully pressing the "factory reset" button.