Story About Trustworthiness Novels & Stories

When I'm eight months pregnant, my husband, Levi West, becomes a donor to help his ex-girlfriend get pregnant. He even brings her and their illegitimate child home, wanting me to serve them. I refuse, and he calls me inhumane. "Audie's lost her husband—what's so bad about her wanting to have a child? You're a woman, too! How can you be so cruel?" I leave the house in anger, but Levi doesn't care. "Where can a country girl like you go when you're so heavily pregnant? You're going to come back and beg me to take you in again!" I head to the hospital to get an abortion. Then, I return to the countryside and rear pigs with my grandmother. Later, when Levi sees my flat belly and asks to see our child, I throw a handful of ashes in his face. "There you go. It's all there."

I've been reborn back to the day my husband, Logan Lane, cheats on me. The first thing I do is request my colleague, Emma Kerr, to switch shifts with me at work. In my previous lifetime, Logan slept with my best friend, Yvonne Colton, behind my back. Since the toys they had used in their session were far too intense, their bodies ended up getting stuck together, so they had to be sent to the ER. Emma performed a surgery on them. Logan and Yvonne were fine after that. Upon receiving the news, I couldn't accept reality at all. I cried so much that I ended up fainting. When I woke up, Logan sent me a document. The document stated that if I were to demand a divorce, I couldn't take a single cent with me. That meant I had to give up on all of my assets. I refused to do so. But Logan merely chuckled coldly in return. "Mariella, Yvonne and I are just friends with benefits. You're the one who insists on getting a divorce, which makes you the one ruining our family. It's only natural that you can't take a single cent with you." I tried to go to the court to prove that Logan was the one cheating on me in our marriage. I even tried to file for a divorce there as well. But then, I found out that someone had already deleted the security footage in the hospital during my collapse. This left me without any solid evidence at all. On the day I lost the court case, Logan didn't hesitate to rub salt into my wound. "Just give up already, Mariella. So what if you have evidence and videos of my infidelity? You're just a regular doctor in the ER, whereas I'm the CEO of Lane Group. I'm the one who earned all of the assets. In fact, I have to give you extra money every month because that meager salary of yours can't sustain you at all. Who would rule in your favor anyway?" I couldn't do anything about Logan's underhanded ways at all. In order to stay with him, I had already cut off all ties with my dad and my family, who happened to be the only support I had in my life, a long time ago. Feeling extremely defeated, I wandered on the street in a daze. That was how I got run over by a speeding truck. When I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn. The first thing I do is to switch shifts with Emma.

It's my first day undercover at my future husband's dessert shop, and chaos walks in with fake lashes and two-inch nails. "I want an ice cream. Heated." I paused. "Just checking... You want your ice cream hot?" She gave me a look like I'd failed kindergarten. "Yes. Hot ice cream. Are you slow?" Deep breath. Zen mode. Customer-first service smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Ice cream has to stay frozen, or it just turns into—well... milk. If you want something warm, we have hot tea or coffee." "I'm pregnant!" she screeched. "Pregnant women crave weird things! Plus, my doctor said I can't eat anything cold! Are you trying to kill my baby and me? Is that what this is?!" People started turning their heads. Fantastic. A whole audience. I kept my voice low. "Ma'am, I can refund you." She suddenly smacked the counter, knocking the scanner sideways. Her nails shot past my face like tiny knives. "What kind of attitude is that?! A pathetic cashier talking back to me? I'll call my husband and get you fired!" Then, she leaned in like she was about to reveal a royal bloodline. "Guess what? I'm the boss's wife." I blinked. If that was true, I really needed to stop thinking about helping my boyfriend to open 3,000 franchise stores.

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

A contract is desperately needed for the company to close the deal on a project, so I head over to the administrative department to lodge a request for printing paper. However, the administrative employee, Lydia Reed, slaps on an arrogant expression. "In order to prevent bottom feeders like you from taking advantage of the company by stealing the company's resources, the company's rulebook has already stated that you must bring your own paper to work!" I just point at the pile of boxes containing A4 paper behind Lydia before asking coldly, "Then who are those resources meant for?" Lydia rolls her eyes at me. "Well, they are meant for people who truly are worthy of this company's resources, duh! "You're just a meager project manager who keeps asking for money without making any contributions at all, so you can forget about getting your hands on anything that belongs to the company!" I nod in return. After leaving the department, I dial a number. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cross. It seems that we shall not be participating in the 200-million-dollar bid after all."

I worked overtime until the early morning hours and called my driver to pick me up. She frowned the entire ride. "You go home so late every night, and you always have me pick you up. You have no consideration for others." I found her comment baffling. "Wasn't all of this made clear when I hired you? The job requires you to be available at all times, and your salary is generous." "What exactly are you trying to say?" Chloe Morrison's tone turned reproachful and condescending. "I'm concerned about you, obviously. What good man goes home at dawn every day? You're probably fooling around outside. A man should conduct himself properly. You should get off work earlier and go home to do housework and cook. That's how you win a girl over." Her words irritated me, and my tone turned sharp. "Ms. Morrison, you're just a driver. You're not anyone to me. Don't overstep."

My childhood friend, whom I hadn’t contacted for years, kept calling nonstop during an important meeting. After the meeting, he spoke in a sharp tone. “Do you think you’re too big for your britches? I’m getting engaged and you’re not even coming back to help out. Do I have to invite you?” I was representing my country at an international scientific forum, so I could only decline politely. Unexpectedly, he turned all haughty. “Fine then. If you’re not coming back, then just send me a gift with four circles and I’ll let it slide. Four circles? Thinking he meant ten thousand with four zeroes, I immediately agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you ten thousand dollars as a wedding gift.” “Ten grand? Who the hell are you kidding? “My wife is the eldest daughter of the Jeffersons, the most prestigious family in Cirrus. Only the most distinguished people are on the guest list. Seeing that we’re old friends, I’m letting you attend. It’s your great honor!” He cursed angrily and sent me the invitation. I was struck dumb the moment I opened it. My aloof ice queen of a wife, who kept strangers at bay, was locked in a passionate kiss with her arms wrapped around my childhood friend’s waist. “Four zeroes, huh? How about four wreaths?” My gaze darkened as I clutched my phone. Four funeral wreaths ought to count as four circles, too!

The wife of the richest man, Andre Walker, in town needs blood desperately after suffering from complications in childbirth. Upon realizing that she has a rare blood type, which I share, I don't hesitate to lend her a helping hand. In order to thank me properly, Andrew decides to gift me a villa located in the heart of the city as well as 30 million dollars in cash. My roommate, Vera Hawthorn, who always rides the high horse of morality, is pissed off when she finds out about the rewards. "Your blood is a part of your body! What's the difference between you selling your blood and selling your body? I can't imagine just how filthy and disgusting you are right now! "That man already has a wife, and yet you still throw yourself at him! You're no different from a homewrecker!" In my previous life, I was filled with shame after hearing Vera's brainwashing reasoning. Not only did I turn down Andre's rewards, but I also cut off all ties with all men in my life. Since then, I never attended any classes conducted by male lecturers, which resulted in me flunking many subjects even though I was about to graduate. So, the head of my department decided to delay my graduation. Left without a choice, I begged Vera to help tutor me in my studies, only for her to post my desperate visage on the Internet. "What an idiot! Independent women must solve every hardship they come across in this era! Don't you feel ashamed for asking me for help? "I can't believe you failed this many subjects! If I were you, I'd just kill myself!" The video went viral on the Internet. My desperate expression was made into a meme, which circulated around the Internet like crazy. Meanwhile, Vera became a famous influencer because of this incident. That night, I suffered from a mental breakdown and took my own life by overdosing on pills. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm about to donate my blood.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”