Novel & Cerita Smug Alert

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

Karen had invested her last penny in the business she had recently established and was eagerly awaiting the promised funds from her benefactor to take it to the next level. "Maybe he forgot. I should remind him," she thought, and promptly sent a text message: ‘I hate to sound desperate, but my finances are tight.’ After sending the message, she realized she had used the wrong number. She quickly started typing, ‘Please ignore the...’ when an alert popped up on her phone: ‘Five billion dollars transferred to you by Roger Dawson.’ Roger? The first name sent a chill down her spine, but the last name left her puzzled. "Roger? Could it be Tonia's bodyguard?" That was his number, but when did his name change? Her phone rang immediately, and the name she had feared for months echoed in her ears, his voice filled with emotion yet calm like a winter breeze. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you." The call ended before she could process it. He was the reason she had fled, refusing to sign the divorce papers. Her love for him was unrequited, his heart belonging to her adopted sister, but what hurt more was the feeling of being traded between friends like a commodity. She would rather die than return.

He abruptly snatches me, closing the distance between us, putting his hand on the back of my head. All the hair on my body rises on alert; one wrong move I might shapeshift in here. His masculine scent infiltrated me with so much finesse. Damn, he smells divine. "What the hell--" "Shut your mouth; those thugs are after me; I need your help." His baritone tone is manly, very manly which catches me off guard a little. No one can lay a finger on me; he is the first man ever to touch me. I'm with a stranger in a strange position. How annoying can this night be? "Alright, Mister, I will give you three seconds to let me go, or else you might lose your hands." My tone is cold and dangerous. I’m hoping he heeds my warning. The tall man keeps leaning forward to me, putting our bodies in an intimate, awkward setting. "One, Two, Thre--" He steers his legs forward. My heart was beating a mile per second. I can't believe he is doing this! Feeling his warm palms cupping my face, the next thing I know, he is kissing me. His lips taste like strawberries. I got an entry pass into heaven!

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

She stole my wedding. I stole her future. On the morning of my wedding, I caught my fiancé Kellan tangled in the sheets with my stepsister. The betrayal should have shattered me. Instead, it lit a fire in my veins. So I did what any woman scorned would do. I pointed to the most dangerous man in the room—Drexon Moreaux, Kellan’s ruthless billionaire uncle—and declared, “Him. I’ll marry him instead.” Drexon could have laughed in my face. The Moreaux empire’s heir apparent, a man forged in boardroom battles and whispered about in elite circles, had no reason to entertain my reckless demand. But he said, “I do.” Now, my stepsister’s smug smile is crumbling. My ex-fiancé is forced to call me Auntie. And Drexon? He watches me with dark, calculating eyes, as if I’m a puzzle he’s determined to solve. This marriage was supposed to be my revenge. But with every lingering touch and midnight confession, Drexon is turning it into something far more dangerous—something that feels like love. Too bad the Moreaux family doesn’t believe in happy endings…

“MATE!” “NO!” “I didn’t ask!” “Still No, my mate killed me long ago.” Silence… “You killed your mate?” “No!” “Aw! I got a broken doll! “ The smug bastard grinned. -- Mallory´s life didn’t go as planned, even after she believed her true fairytale had started. Betrayed, beaten, and broken beyond repair, she welcomed death when it finally came. The moon goddess granted her a new life, a choice. She chose to remember. Haunted by her past and trauma, she devoted her life to *unalive* the worse criminals, humans, and shifters. Working for the council, she managed to keep running from her nightmares. Suffocating the pain and panic attacks by escaping into subspace, guided by Mr. Bear’s firm hand. Love is not in Mallory´s world; she doesn’t want it. Don’t deserve it, and the mere thought scare her to the core. Why would two mated males have such care for her? Why would another claim her as his? She doesn’t recognize them as mates—any of them. But that doesn’t seem to scare them away. Reverse harem, BDSM, revenge, trauma, triggers! Torture, human trafficking +++ Not a beautiful romance but a dark romance with lingering trauma.

Lain Navier Edevane, an assassin haunted by his past, is on a dangerous mission to avenge the brutal murder of his family. Assigned by the dark tide, an organization that controls assassins worldwide, he has no choice but to carry out their evil commands. Galen, Lain's superior, hands him a picture of a girl, instructing him to eliminate target 0351. Lain, with a smug expression, asks when she should be killed. His superior warns him not to underestimate her, as she is no ordinary girl. Lain has one hour to complete the mission, knowing that failure is not an option, as it would cost him his life. Galen handed Lain a picture of a girl. Lain frowned, disliking dirting hands. His superior ordered him to eliminate target 0351, warning that she was not an ordinary girl. Lain asked when she should be killed, and was given an hour. Failure meant death. Lain recognized the supernatural nature of his target, but his tracking abilities made finding her easy. In the club, he spotted the only redhead. In the dim light, Lain drew his dagger and approached the drunk girl with precision. As he was about to stab her, their eyes met and something awakened within him. “MATE!”

My mom was a brilliant programmer. She created an app called "Shake for Allowance." After my brother and I downloaded it, she told us, "From now on, this is how you'll get your living expenses. On the first of every month, just shake your phone. Whatever number you get is the amount you'll receive. "The range is from zero to ten thousand dollars." At first, I was excited. Every month, I shook my phone with anticipation. However, every time, the result was the same: 0 dollars. My brother, meanwhile, always landed the highest amount. "Wow, sis, your luck really sucks," he said. Even when he showed me the transfer record for ten thousand dollars, there was a smug smile on his face. When I confronted Mom, she brushed it off, saying my luck was bad and that no one else was to blame. With no other choice, I worked three part-time jobs just to support myself while studying. On the night before my final exams, I collapsed from exhaustion and died. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day my mom created the "Shake for Allowance" app.

The first thing I do after getting off the plane is to text my wife, Ella Spencer, that I'm safe and sound. Since I'm too eager to send the text, I end up sending the text to my work group chat. Before I can delete the message, the new HR employee, Dexter Brooks, suddenly calls me on the phone. "You're fired." I question him immediately, "All I did was text the wrong group chat! How does that warrant a dismissal?" Dexter shouts at me immediately, "How dare you send such lovey-dovey messages on the company's group chat! I will not tolerate this behavior in my company!" His statement catches me off guard. "Your company?" Dexter's arrogance kicks up a few notches. "What, are you saying that this is your company? Ms. Spencer is my wife! Her company is naturally mine!" After a moment's silence, I send another text to the work group chat. "Ella Spencer, you must be feeling quite smug now, huh? Not only did you claim that the company is yours, but you also switched your own husband out for someone else."

"It started as a prank. So...how did I end up on my knees for my neighbor in his office?" Zoe Justice (20) is finally free—no dorm rules, no nosy RAs, no lukewarm cafeteria mac and cheese. With her grandparents’ inheritance and a playlist full of bangers, she’s ready to celebrate her first night as a bona fide homeowner. New digs, new vibes, and definitely a party worthy of the milestone. She expected a few noise complaints and maybe a fussy neighbor or two. But she didn’t expect the cops to roll up before 9 p.m. and shut down the whole thing like it was some kind of crime scene. Apparently, someone across the street didn’t appreciate her welcome-home energy. And when Zoe spotted him—the smug, too-serious man on the porch, standing there like he owned the cul-de-sac—she knew exactly where the betrayal came from. So naturally, she let her middle fingers and death glare do the talking. Veterinarian or not, Mr. Peace-and-Quiet was officially on her list. And she? She wasn’t going down without a little payback. But what happens when the prank war turns into a love affair neither of them saw coming?