Spell To Turn Off Light Novels & Stories

My mate, Luther Evans, had spent 20 thousand dollars on two first-class tickets for the Moonlight Express to Vespera Coast. Just as we were about to board, he pulled me aside and gave my seat to my foster sister, Zoey Turner. He explained, "There's only one empty seat left on the train, and Zoey's son has never seen the ocean before. This is the perfect chance. Kids can't be separated from their mothers, so I'll take them first and get them settled, then come back for you." I nodded and stepped off the train, watching it disappear into the distance. Once they reached the beach, a friend asked Luther why I hadn't come along. He was busy inflating a pool float for Zoey, answering casually without looking up. "The Moonlight Express runs every three days. Avery Smith can just buy her own ticket and come later. I'll pick up some gifts to make it up to her. She's really understanding and won't stay mad at me." A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. The whole family had always favored Zoey, and now even my own mate was no different. Since nobody wanted to see me anyway, I decided I would leave in three days.

The company holds a management meeting. My wife's secretary, Lisa Carter, is checking IDs at the conference room entrance. She greets everyone who enters with a warm smile. But when it is my turn, she lets out a scornful laugh. I frown and pull out my Cybersecurity Department Manager's ID, but she doesn't even glance at it. "Mr. Torres, Ms. Shaw took pity on you and made you a manager. Do you really think you're somebody important?" I ignore her and dial the CEO's direct line instead. "Someone's saying my position is just charity from you. Is it true?"

The day before my 20th birthday, the mafia Don Byron Lewis ordered me to choose one of his sons as my husband. Whoever I chose would become the next Don. I chose Joseph Lewis, his eldest son. Everyone was stunned by my decision. After all, everyone knew I had foolishly been in love with Elliot Lewis and that I was even carrying his child. What they did not know was that in my previous life, I married Elliot while pregnant. On the very day he became the Don, he began an affair with Sheila Baker, my maid. My parents drove Sheila away, but Elliot blamed me for it. From then on, he found countless lovers who looked just like her. When I was in labor, bleeding heavily and fighting for my life, he was in bed with one of them. My child and I died on a cold operating table. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. This time, I decided to let Elliot and Sheila be together. I would find a new father for my child. However, what I did not expect was Elliot to be reborn too.

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

Leah, Logan’s adopted sister, threw a tantrum at our first engagement party, an episode of her pup dependency anxiety. But after that night, I gave him an ultimatum: if he couldn’t bond me before I turned thirty, he’d have to choose—me or Leah. Logan believed I’d never walk away. After all, I was bonded by my dying mother’s last wish: to be bonded with the werewolf warrior who’d loved me for ten years. Ten years together. Twelve promises that he’d keep Leah in line. And then came my twenty-ninth birthday—our thirteenth engagement party. Leah locked me in a restroom, stole my gown, and stood beside Logan in my place. She was smiling, glowing, claiming everything that was mine. When I finally stepped out, my gown was tattered. I confronted Logan, but he only said, “Alison, forgive her. I promise, this is the last time.” I looked at the torn gown my mother had sewn through sickness and pain… and I laughed. Logan sighed in relief, thinking I’d let it slide again. But I didn’t. I turned and walked away without a word. After a decade together, he thought I belonged to him. Well, he was wrong. He didn’t know that there was someone else who could give me happiness and fulfill my mother’s wish.

Ashley Martin, a naive, clumsy, and arroagnat and rude girl, the princess of the werewolf species, was brutally killed by the person whom she assumed was her mate. But the moon goddess gives her another chance and helped her to be reborn and avenge herself, and also find her mate. But when she finds her mate, he does not have a very good image of hers in his mind since he thinks that Ashley is just a rich spoiled brat, and now Ashley has to work harder to gain her mate and also to take revenge. Bryan Shaw The only heir of the world's leading, wealthiest, luxurious, powerful, and multi-billion dollar industries is Mr. Shaw. The Shaws' name itself evokes wealth, luxury, and power. Bryan was a fear for everyone. A Walking Devil. Everyone Fear to go near him. His name was enough for everything. He was sinister, cruel, ruthless, smart, cunning, dominant, and had a heart of ice. He was a badass, Shaw. You can't screw up with him If you want to be alive and happy. He can make you live living hell at the snap of his fingers!! What happens when he meets the clumsy and seemingly stupid Ashley Martin and develops a dislike for her from the rumors that surround her, simple he will use her and then throw her, but what he does not know is that Ashley is ready to steal his heart.

She was meant to inherit an empire. Instead, she became a prisoner in her own home. Grace Wellington, a gifted piano prodigy and heiress to the Wellington fortune, has been missing from the public eye for nearly a decade. People say she’s living abroad in peace. But the truth was that she’s been locked away, hidden by her own stepfamily, slowly fading into silence as the world forgets her face. Her inheritance depends on one rule: marry by 26 and get 50% of her father’s estate. Have a child, and she gets 85%. But as her birthday nears, her stepmother and stepbrother conspire to steal her identity and fortune, using a beautiful stranger to play her role. But Grace isn’t the fragile girl they once controlled, not anymore. Now, she’s ready to reclaim her name, her life, and her voice. But the deeper she digs, the more dangerous everything becomes, especially when the man she loves is being seduced by an impostor.

I was sitting at the police station. My landlord scolded me harshly and pointed at my nose. Out of nowhere, my mother called and berated me mercilessly. “Chloe went to your place and disappeared! Did you lose her?!” “I know you’ve had grudges against me and your brother all these years, but how could you take it out on your niece?” In my previous cycle, when my mother told me Chloe was missing, I panicked and searched for her everywhere. Instead of helping, my mom and brother’s entire family dragged me to court without hesitation. I could not understand it. Chloe disappeared on her way to my place. How was that my fault? I begged the police to clear my name and review all the surveillance footage in the city. But the footage showed Chloe arriving at my door that day, and I opened the door for her. After that, she was gone, as if she had vanished into thin air. I stared blankly at the footage of her hopping cheerfully into my apartment. I had no way to explain myself. My sister-in-law lost it. She was convinced I had killed Chloe and threw boiling oil at my face in a fit of rage. I ended up in the hospital. I was disfigured and completely crushed, both physically and emotionally. No matter how hard I tried, I could not recall ever opening the door for Chloe. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Chloe disappeared.

"They were entwined with each other, luxuriating in the throes of passion, the man's robust body..." I was hiding in my office, secretly penning the next development in my story, when a voice from behind me began to read my words aloud, one by one. It was the new intern, a young man. I trembled, pleading with him, "Please, don't tell anyone." He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his hands bracing the edge of the desk, trapping me between his arms. "So, this is what you like?" His throat bobbed, and a smile played on his lips, "Then, why don't we... try it out, just the two of us...

The day my parents divorced, the rain wouldn’t stop. Two agreements sat on the table. One meant staying in the old Eastwood District with my gambling-addicted father, Alexander Clark, drowning in debt. The other meant leaving for Silverstrand Coast with my mother, Charlotte Hayes, who was remarrying into wealth. In my last life, my younger brother, Mathias Clark, cried and clung to Mom while I quietly packed my things and chose to stay with Dad. Later, he quit gambling and struck it rich during a redevelopment boom. He poured everything into raising me right. Meanwhile, Mathias was trapped in his stepfather’s house—isolated, controlled, never allowed outside—until depression took his life. But this time, everything changed. Mathias snatched the cigarette from Dad’s hand and hugged him tightly, refusing to let go. "Tyler, I feel bad for Dad. You go enjoy the good life over there. I’ll stay and take care of him for you." Dad froze for a moment, then smiled with relief and patted his shoulder. I said nothing. I simply picked up the train ticket to the coast. What he didn’t know was that… In my last life, the reason Dad was able to quit gambling was because I had a brain tumor. I worked myself to the brink of coughing up blood just to repay his debts. I traded my life… for his redemption.