Struck Unscramble Novels & Stories

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

After the young officer Edward Shaw took first place in a high-profile shooting exhibition attended by senior officials, his family adopted a rather peculiar tradition. At the annual family banquet, he would perform a blindfolded shooting. Whichever woman's token his bullet struck was taken as a sign that she would become his fiancée. Determined to marry him, I placed the handkerchief I had carefully chosen as close to him as possible. Yet, for three consecutive years, his shots hit nothing at all. I told myself the handkerchief must have been too light, too easy to miss. So each year, I replaced it with something more refined, more eye-catching than before. That illusion lasted until the night before my eighteenth birthday, when I happened to overhear him speaking with a friend at a reception. "Miss Jasmine's handkerchief is right in front. Even blindfolded, you should be able to hit it. How do you keep missing every year?" Edward swirled his glass, his tone casual. "Tracy's still young. The moment she hears I'm getting engaged, she starts crying. "I promised I'd wait until she's a little older. As for Jasmine, she's waited for me all these years. It's not like she's going anywhere." With that, he casually tossed his glass into a metal bucket in the corner. It rang out with a sharp, hollow clang. I lowered my gaze and thought of my younger sister, only a year younger than me. So it had never been about the token. It was about the person who placed it there. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on. After all, my father had already arranged a marriage for me. Three days later, at that same family banquet, I would be formally engaged.

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

ZACH: I had loved Amber all my life, so when she turned of age, and her wolf didn't surface, I made the biggest decision of my life—I would claim her. It didn't matter to me if I was the first Alpha with a wolfless Luna in this generation. I still wanted her. I could win her in the Claiming, and I could protect her all her life. I was sure of that until reality struck, and a tragedy happened, leaving me crippled, unable to walk with my feet. My wolf was strong—still able to run on his paws—which was the exact opposite of my human. I became useless, just a shell of the man I was once. So tell me, how could I claim her? How could I protect her when I couldn't even stand on my own? AMBER: I had loved Zach all of my life. I was determined to be claimed by him—either as his fated or chosen mate. So even if my wolf didn't surface, I was still on cloud nine because he finally confessed he felt the same way. I was beyond ecstatic waiting for the Claiming when he could finally claim me. Everything was perfect until I woke up in a hospital bed, where I almost died from a car accident. I thought it was the worst thing that happened in my life until I met Zach again, and he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I survived the fatal crash, but I had no idea how long I could survive until my heart finally gave up from being shattered by the only man I ever wanted.

I knew perfectly well that people from the Emirates do not eat pork. Yet this time, I watched in silence as my husband's childhood sweetheart insisted on placing a pork dish on the table. In fact, I even supported her decision. In my past life, when our company hosted a welcome banquet for powerful investors from the Emirates, she had been desperate to flaunt her cooking. Against all reason, she forced a pork dish onto the menu. I stopped her then. I explained that pork was forbidden by religious belief, and that offending the investors could cost us everything. If they withdrew their funding, the company's finances would collapse overnight. She took my warning as jealousy. In a fit of rage, she ran out of the banquet hall and was struck by a car, leaving her in a permanent vegetative state. I thought my husband would break down. Instead, he remained calm, stayed through the dinner, and secured the investment in surprisingly calmness. The truth revealed itself later. After the company went public, he brought me abroad under the guise of business, only to drag me onto a medical ship in international waters. As my kidney was cut from my body, I cried and asked him why. His answer came with a slap. "If you hadn't been jealous back then... If you hadn't tried to sabotage her, she wouldn't have ended up like that." I died in agony on the operating table. After my death, he used the money from selling my organs to cure his beloved childhood sweetheart, and the two of them went on to live rich, comfortable lives together. And then I opened my eyes again, back to the very day she decided to serve pork to the clients.

I hid behind the study curtains, heart racing with a fragile, trembling joy. In my hands: an ultrasound photo—two heartbeats—and a no-limit black card. Alessandro had given it to me last night, his lips on my neck, calling me his Donna, his queen. Tonight, I was going to tell him about the twins. "The Petrov family needs to see my good faith," his voice drifted in, smooth as velvet. "Vittoria arrives Thursday. I’ll announce the engagement then." My blood froze. "What about Elena?" someone asked. "She’s been with you three years. She manages the books, dug that slug out of your side herself. Is this fair to her?" "Elena?" He leaned back in the leather chair, cigar smoke curling around his jaw. "She’s like a trained hound, Salvatore. After the Rossi family got wiped out, I pulled her from the gutter, gave her a gun and a bed. Have you ever seen a hound leave its master? I could kick her, and she would lick my boot and ask for another." My nails sank into my palms, crumpling the ultrasound. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave?" Marco, his Capo, asked. Alessandro paused. Then he said: "She would die for me without question. How could she ever leave?" Those words struck my chest like two 9mm rounds. I didn't wait. I ran through the cemetery, past the tombs of dead Dons, and hurled that card into the Hudson. I vanished into the night with his heirs in my womb and three years of lies in my throat. "I'm sorry, my babies," I whispered to my belly. "Mommy was a fool." But I wouldn't be a fool anymore.

Anthony Hunt a young dashing bachelor from New Mexico,lives under a dual personality, Anthony Hunts as a Casino and hotel conglomerate and Blade Knuckles as a Mafia lord. He was coached by ruthless Lucas Guzman and together the two syndicates cast terror within and outside the borders of New Mexico. Anthony collides with Nevena Bachvarov, a Bulgarian tourist, who runs into his arm one night asking him to save her . Breanna Stewart, an ex of Anthony, ventures back into his life as a government agent employed to investigate the mysterious Blade Knuckles. What was meant to be an investigation, turned into a personal war for Breanna Stewart Anthony in one of his numerous hits, kills an innocent man John Willow, son of Liza Minnelli, she had saved Anthony when an encounter with Vincenzo, a counter Mafia, almost claimed his life in the past . Nevena's presence struck a delicate chord in Anthony's cold heart, warming it in the process. Anthony realized that he was in love after he gave up his escape from the police just to get Nevena treated from a gunshot injury, Breanna Stewart finally got a chance to prosecute Anthony but Liza Minnelli gave another testimony and it led to Anthony's unanimous discharge. Sorrowful Liza Minnelli cursed Anthony that nemesis would catch up to him soon. Lucas Guzman wouldn't get over it when Anthony declares his desire to quit crime. Just when everything begins to fall into place, disaster strikes. Nevena got blown up by unknown hitmen , Anthony embraced the life of crime again, Vincenzo, Lucas Guzman and many more were on his suspect list . Bloodshed became the new trend as Anthony sought revenge over Nevena's death, the police denied any involvement since it's a war among the Mafia's.

WARNING: MATURED CONTENT "Every time you flinch when I get close, it burns me up inside. I’ll prove to you that whatever monster I was before… I’m nothing but yours now." — At twenty-four, Hera was a licensed agriculturist serving her hometown. She walked through life alone, yet found anchor in her father—the provincial governor—even as she remained his secret child. Her world was stitched together by nothing more than trees, earth, and the creatures that roamed the land. Then came the murder that shattered her peaceful existence. She watched in horror as a masked figure committed a brutal killing just steps from her home. The assassin turned to silence her next, but Hera struck first: one desperate swing of her shovel to his skull left him bloodied and still, lost to unconsciousness. Convinced she would be thrown in prison for what she’d done, she called her father. It was in that moment she learned the truth—the man she’d felled was no ordinary stranger. He was a dangerous mafia member. She had fought the mafia. And worse: he would not wake anytime soon. He had slipped into a coma. To escape the wrath of those who would hunt for him, Hera followed her governor-father’s stern command: “Hide him. Keep him alive. Never ask why.” He became her darkest secret—but secrets do not stay hidden forever. A year later, the man opened his eyes with no trace of his past. Fearing he would kill her the moment his memories returned, Hera spun a perilous lie: “I am your wife.” As days bled into months, he craved the warmth of her touch, while she prayed his mind would never piece together what was lost.

"Kill me.." Alpha Kane said in a shaking voice, staring at his son who held him with his hands. His voice was croaking and he had just a few seconds to his Death. "Dad, I can't. I can't kill you!" Murphy said, whimpering in tears. "Do it now! It's now or never! If you kill me... You'll become the next Alpha" Kane said but Murphy wasn't buying what he was saying. His concern was how he could save his father but he knows he won't be able to do that. "What's the point of being an Alpha when there is no Werewolf left?" Murphy uttered. "Son... Please do it! You'll understand this when you grow up. Kill me now! Please" Kane said, already coughing and his pulse getting weak. Murphy stretched his hands forward and his fingers became longer. He had changed to Werewolf. "Save travels, Father" He said and struck his father on his neck. ******** 15 years ago, the capital of Switzerland suffered from Werewolf attacks. No one was safe in the city and they weren't allowed to travel out of their country. The country was filled with over a hundred Packs of Werewolves. 70 percent of those Werewolf Packs were evil while thirty percent were good. Because of the way the bad ones kill, they thought that all Werewolves were evil and should be eliminated. They were able to destroy almost all the Packs in Switzerland through the help of WEREWOLF HUNTERS and there was just one Pack remaining. And that Pack happens to be Blue Moon Pack - ruled by Alpha Kane. They killed everyone in the pack but only one escaped. His name was Murphy. Do you think Murphy will avenge his Family's death? Will Werewolf Hunters be able to eliminate the last Werewolf on Earth?

“You look perfect like this,” one whispered, fingers down my thigh. “I wondered if you really killed her, did you?” Cuffed, wrists above my head, legs bare and open, one ran a flogger over my belly. I arched back, gasping. Another leaned in, breath hot at my neck. The third stood at the edge of the bed, watching me squirm. “We don’t even need to touch you to make you beg.” Then he finally did, he slipped two fingers straight between my legs, slow and deep. “Oh my god,” I moaned, hips bucking. “You’re this wet already?” he growled, curling his fingers inside me. “And we haven’t even started fucking you yet.” The one at my neck licked a trail down to my collarbone. “You killed her. Admit it.” I shook my head, but my body gave me away. My legs were shaking. I was clenching around his fingers like I’d never been touched before. "I didn't do it." I moaned again “Say whose hole this is,” he demanded. “M-mine—” The flogger struck my thigh. “Try again." I looked up, breathless. “Yours. Fuck. It’s yours.” ******** Chloe was sent to Nightshade Academy, the same elite school where her sister allegedly took her own life. To earn her father’s approval and uncover the truth, she had no choice but to go. Now, after another student is found dead, Chloe was the prime suspect due to the circumstances surrounding the death. Tied by an unbreakable bond to the three Alpha triplets sent to catch the killer. Now, Chloe is caught in their dangerous web. Worse? She’s mated to all three who are determined to make her accept to the crime.