Story Draft Novels & Stories

My husband and his beloved mistress died together in a car accident. They left me with a pair of illegitimate children. Eighteen years passed in a blur. I poured my heart and soul into raising those children until, at last, they earned admission to Corvell University, the country's top university. But on the very day they received their acceptance letters, my 'dead' husband returned. And beside him stood his mistress. She clutched my husband's arm and beamed at me. "Thanks to your tireless care, my two sons finally made it into Corvell. If not for you, the two of us wouldn't have been free to live so happily together all these years..." Later, my husband demanded a divorce. He wanted to marry his mistress and reunite their perfect little family of four. I didn't cry, nor did I rage. I only smiled and said, "Sure."

The richest woman in all of Jezelworth, Abby Davidson, was determined to marry my brother, Wallace Bourn. Everyone called Abby the "Black Widow", a cold-hearted woman who would do anything to get what she wanted. Anyone who married her was doomed to meet a tragic end. Wallace turned pale with fear, but I pulled him aside and said quietly, "I'll marry her in your place. But you have to stay in the countryside and guard my father's safe under his grave for three years. You can't open it before then." He thought the safe held a massive fortune. Grinning like a fool, he agreed without hesitation. Watching his greedy face, I couldn't help but laugh coldly inside. He'd better be ready for this. I couldn't wait to see if he could manage the "surprise" he'd find inside!

Three months into my pregnancy, I was resting at home to ensure the baby’s health when a typhoon struck. My husband, Adam Quinn, received a call and rushed out to meet his childhood sweetheart. As a result, I experienced severe abdominal pain. The ambulance taking me to the hospital was involved in an accident, and I lost the baby. Adam arrived much later, only to blame me, saying, "Mona Thomas, why are you so useless? You couldn’t even keep the baby!"

Because I saved my husband during a car accident, I lost my eyesight. He wept, promising to treat me well for the rest of our lives to repay my sacrifice. I cooperated with the treatment wholeheartedly, hoping for a full recovery. But on the day I finally regained my sight, I stumbled upon something that shattered my world. In our marital home, his first love lay beneath him, her flushed face betraying the passion of the moment. Their bodies intertwined, and the air around them thick with stifled moans—a vivid tableau of infidelity. "She's just a blind woman. Why haven't you divorced her yet?" the woman murmured impatiently, her voice laced with disdain as she moved against him. My husband, immersed in pleasure, still mumbled an excuse. "My love, just a little longer. Soon, we'll be together openly…" I turned and left without a word, pretending I had seen nothing. As I walked away, I remembered the witch's sacrificial ritual in the misty forest—only a few days away. My husband's betrayal cut deep, carving wounds I couldn't ignore. I made up my mind to return to the forest, to embrace my identity as a witch once more, and to sever all ties with him. Yet, after I disappeared, word reached me that he was searching for me everywhere like a madman. Rumor had it he had completely lost his mind.

On my father’s sixtieth birthday, I was overseas, negotiating an energy contract. I deliberately told my wife to throw a huge banquet for him. That day, I watched the mansion’s security footage with a smile. Unexpectedly, I saw my nine adoptive siblings surrounding an unfamiliar old man. That old man wore my dad’s class ring as he happily pulled my wife onto the stage. “Thank you for coming to my birthday banquet. This is my daughter-in-law, the president of the Viapent Group. She’s the absolute best! She spent three million dollars on this banquet! It’s all thanks to my eldest son for finding such a capable wife.” In one corner, my actual father was in tattered clothes, washing dishes with my son. He accidentally splattered some water. One of the guests kicked him in disgust, causing him to cough up blood. The security footage was cut off. How dare these people mistreat my father and son? I called a special number. “I’m putting a stop to the negotiations. My father and son are being abused back home. I am returning to them now.”

Oh ... Yes ... Like that ... You are the best ... They were at it again. Ever since that young man had moved in next door, these sounds had frequently invaded my room. It wasn't just that they were so loud, it was that once they began, they were sure to keep me up for half the night. I hammered on the wall, hoping they would quieten down. If anything, the noises only got louder. I could feel myself getting angry. I was on the warpath. I stormed outside and hammered on his door. But I was not prepared for what I saw once it opened. I shouldn't be privy to this, I thought. After witnessing this, how can I be allowed to live?

The fearsome Romano family has made an announcement. Whoever among me and my sister, Vivienne Everhart, can give birth to the first grandson of the Romano bloodline shall inherit the Romanos' wealth that's worth tens of billions of dollars. Also, said grandson will be the next Don of the Romano family. In my previous life, Vivienne had married Dominic Romano, a healthy and strong young man of the Romano family. My parents were the one who had arranged for this marriage to happen. I, on the other hand, got married to Julian Romano, a gloomy man who was confined to his wheelchair due to his crippled legs. In less than a year after our marriage, Julian had regained his ability to walk once again. At the same time, I got pregnant with the first grandson of the Romano family. As such, Vivienne got abused by Dominic to the point that she completely lost her marbles. That was how she became the laughingstock of the rich socialites of the upper crust. On the day I was about to go into labor, Vivienne stabbed my belly with a blade. Then, she grabbed me before jumping off a tall building with me in her arms. When I open my eyes again, I see Vivienne snatching away the bouquet made of blue roses that's given to me by Julian. "I want to marry Julian!" "Vivienne, how could you snatch Isabella's bouquet away?" As soon as Vivienne receives the fancy blue rose bouquet, she freezes in place when she hears our father scolding her. After Dad grabs the bouquet from Vivienne's hands, he passes it to me before saying, "Isabella, you have a healthy body. Julian might be handicapped, but at least he's pretty talented when it comes to running his business." Then, he pats Vivienne on the head lovingly. "Vivienne, you're in poor health. Marrying Dominic is your best option." As I stare at the blue rose bouquet in my hands as well as the wedding gown I'm currently wearing, I dig my nails into my palm forcefully. Finally, I realize that I've gotten reborn.

My mother-in-law was obsessed with picking mushrooms. She said mushroom stew with chicken was incredibly nourishing. She often made it to boost my husband’s health. However, she never let me have any, not even a sip of the broth. Every time, she came up with some excuse to send me out on an errand. If I refused, my husband’s fists and kicks reminded me to obey. So, this time, I obediently went out like always. Even though I just had a miscarriage five days ago and the sun outside was scorching, I had to go.

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.