Story Driven Novels & Stories

Before the wedding, my fiancé disappeared while camping with friends. I searched for him for an entire month, nearly losing my mind. But on Valentine's Day, a week before our wedding, I saw him at a romantic restaurant, hugging and kissing his childhood sweetheart. Jayden Corrick held the woman in his arms and said softly, "If this goes on, I don't even want to go back and marry Leah." Sophie Muller asked if he regretted disappearing—if he truly didn't plan on going back. He hesitated for a moment. "No regrets. Let's stay one more week. Our parents will cover for us anyway. When she's completely driven mad with worry, I'll show up again." I stood hidden among the crowd, watching their closeness, and gave a bitter smile. The next moment, I called home. "Don't bother looking for Jayden anymore. I'm never marrying him."

“Can—Can you say that again?” I plead, assuming that I misheard his original verdict. “Six months, if you’re lucky,” he says, flipping through his clipboard of papers. “This pregnancy has accelerated your hepatocirrhosis, which will likely only leave you with less than half a year of life expectancy.” Bad mate could destroy you and tear your soul apart. 5 years ago, Harold was a new alpha with his manipulative soon-to-be luna girlfriend Alicia. Harold was wounded fighting in the war. His mate Olivia followed the scent, then appeared and saved him. She gave him blood transfusion when he was in extreme need of blood, which almost killed her. But Harold was too unconscious to know who had saved him. When Harold was taken back to pack, who was still in a coma but out of danger. The doctor judged that he was very likely to lose the ability to move his legs. After knowing this, Alicia abandoned him and left his pack immediately, to find another luna position. Olivia took care of this man in coma for waiting her mate to wake up. But when Harold woke up, Alicia was back again. This evil girl trapped him and ruined Olivia, filled all this alpha's head with lies. Not only Alicia took marriage and luna title away from Olivia, but also her pups and life. But fortunately, Moon Goddess has her own plan. Olivia has the very rare second chance at life. She came back as another woman, the Luna Queen. But at that very moment, the Luna Queen was going to divorce her Alpha King! And the story begins ——！

For ten years, my professor husband, Daniel Whitmore, and I loved each other deeply, treating each other with respect and care. Our only regret was that he had azoospermia, so we were never able to have a child. Then, on our tenth wedding anniversary, the housekeeper, Megan Wright, suddenly claimed she was pregnant with Daniel's child. I thought she was joking. Two days later, she threw a paternity test result in my face. The test proved that the child she was carrying was Daniel's. Megan sued us. On the day of the hearing, she cried in front of the courthouse, telling the media how Daniel had molested her. She said we were a pair of perverts who treated her like a breeding machine and kept her confined in our home. Daniel and I couldn't defend ourselves at all. The netizens labeled us demon employers and nailed us to a pillar of shame. Daniel lost his job at the university, and his students were ashamed of him. I was fired from my company that same day. In the end, Daniel couldn't withstand the pressure of public opinion and committed suicide in prison. I became a rat on the streets, hunted down and beaten by netizens. Driven insane, I wandered into traffic and died miserably in the middle of the road. Even at death, I couldn't understand how Megan had become pregnant with the child of my husband, who had azoospermia. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the day before Megan claimed she was pregnant with Daniel's child.

When my son suffered a heart attack in the middle of the night, I rushed him to the hospital where my wife worked. Instead of taking charge herself, she handed the operation to an intern. "New doctors need opportunities to learn. I'll be right there supervising. Nothing will happen." But before the surgery even began, a phone call pulled her away, leaving a trembling Marvin Vance alone in the operating room. My son never made it off the operating table. I collapsed in the hallway, sobbing in grief. Yet I overheard my wife gently comforting Marvin. "For your first surgery, you held on this long. You've done an amazing job, my little cinnamon roll." Awkwardly copying trendy slang younger people used online, she reassured him with endless patience. Then she turned to me with a cold expression and demanded that I sign a letter forgiving Marvin. "He has his whole future ahead of him. You can't destroy his life." I tore the document to pieces and threatened to call the police and expose what had happened. In response, she arranged for a medical donation and had my son's body dissected that very night. Driven insane by grief, I threw myself from a building while clutching my son's ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my son's surgery. This time, I immediately contacted my parents and transferred him to another hospital. But that night, they still dissected a child.

My family's company was on the brink of bankruptcy—its cash flow severed, the entire operation teetering on collapse. My fiancé, Andy Goor, was prepared to lend me money to keep things afloat. Just as I was about to say yes, a barrage of floating comments swept across my vision. [Don't agree—no matter what you do!] [The company's bankruptcy and cash flow crisis are all part of Andy's scheme!] [He's after your family's assets. If you accept, your whole family will end up sleeping under bridges for the rest of your lives!] [Your father will die after jumping off a building because he can't afford treatment. Your mother will be beaten to death by debt collectors. And you—you'll be sold into a nightclub. Just thinking about it is tragic!] A cold smile curved my lips. Without hesitation, I reached out and took the bank card Andy had sent over. Because in my previous life, I had believed those very comments and refused his help. After that, the company slid into bankruptcy, beyond saving. My parents were driven to their deaths, both forced to jump from buildings. And I was sold by creditors to an underground clinic, where my heart and kidneys were harvested before my body was dismembered. Only after I died, my soul drifting aimlessly, did I learn the truth—this had all been orchestrated by my so-called best friend, Chelsea Beatriz. Every single one of those comments had been fabricated by her. Disillusioned with me, Andy turned his investment to her company instead. She took my place—effortlessly stepping into my life—and married him. This time… everything I went through? Someone else gets to carry that weight now.

It was the climactic moment of my game, but the enemy's flash bang blinded me. After I reopened my eyes, I found myself in the world of the post-apocalyptic underdog comeback story I'd ranted about to my friend the day before. No, I wasn't the protagonist with a cheat for a system. Instead, I was the cannon fodder who suffered the worst fate. He also had my name. I found myself locked outside the armored vehicle while a swarm of high-level zombies had surrounded me. 'Blast,' I thought. 'All this just because I flamed them? And I just made a pentakill after my 8-win streak!' I told myself to calm down and let my mind do its work, but then the laughter of this body's wife echoed from the walkie-talkie. "Stop covering for him, gunners! We're livestreaming to the whole camp. My husband's going to rip these Tier Six zombies to shreds!" Then, the woman's useless male best friend buzzed with excitement. "I'll have a permanent spot in the inner city if he distracts the horde and they rip him apart in the process, babe!" If this went the way of the original story, I'd beg for help only to get no answer and be ripped apart by the zombies. Fortunately, I wasn't the same coward this guy used to be. The woman kept egging me on. I sneered. I didn't spend years playing competitive games for nothing. And so, I grabbed a high-frequency concussion grenade that could get the attention of every single zombie in a 3-mile radius, smashed the ventilation valve of the armored vehicle, and hurled the grenade inside.

My company had arranged a wilderness survival retreat deep in the heart of Moonshadow Forest—a place where even seasoned wolves tread cautiously. That night, a sudden downpour ripped through the campsite, drenching the earth and filling the air with the thick scent of damp moss and shifting soil. I woke abruptly, the cold seeping into my bones. Instinctively, I reached out to the space beside me, seeking the warmth of my mate. Empty. A sharp pang of unease clawed at my chest. My wolf, dulled by the suppressant herbs I had taken to blend into human society, stirred restlessly. Fumbling in the darkness, I grabbed my phone and dialed Nigel. The line barely had time to connect before he emerged from the undergrowth—disheveled, breathless. His grip was iron-tight as he seized my wrist, pulling me downhill. His scent was sharp with adrenaline, but beneath it—something foreign, something wrong. We ran, my boots sinking into the mud. My keen vision caught glimpses of his rumpled clothing, the way his collar was misaligned—and the faint imprint of lips on his jaw. My pulse pounded in my ears. Betrayal. I wrenched my arm from his grasp, my claws itching to unsheathe despite the human form I forced myself to maintain. "Where were you?" My voice came out low, edged with the danger of a wolf barely leashed. The suppressants in my bloodstream faltered under the weight of my fury. The storm had driven everyone into their tents, leaving the clearing eerily silent as we reached the base of the mountain. But she was there. A woman stood beneath the flickering glow of the emergency lanterns, her hair tousled, her fingers gripping Nigel’s jacket as if it belonged to her. I knew her. The new intern. Her face held an unsettling resemblance to mine, as if the Moon Goddess herself had carved her from the shadows of my reflection. The realization struck like a silver dagger to my chest. Even the mate who had once sworn to fight the world for me had given in to betr

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding."

During a charity gala, my boyfriend bids on a pair of matching watches but gives one of them to his true love. The media excitedly capture the scene and ask, "You bought a million-dollar watch without even batting an eye, Mr. Loewe. You've been single all these years—is it time for you to make an official announcement on your relationship status?" Everyone off stage applauds him, and I join them. I give him my blessings for his so-called announcement. To make it up to me, he attends my birthday celebration. Yet he pushes me into the cake to make his true love happy. Unbeknownst to him, there's a steel rack in the cake to keep it steady. I end up bloodied and on the brink of death.

Being in a Contract marriage with an illegitimate daughter is one decision that Alaric cannot change but manage with. Desperate to make his betrothed wife give up on the marriage without having any share of his property made him and his mistress drug her and set her up in a one night stand with a stranger. Not only did she get pregnant for an unknown man,it cost her marriage and also rendered her homeless. Faced with no choice than to search for the man that not only took her virginity but also made her a mom. Was her search successful? Who was the identity of the man she had a night stand with?