Tablet Lap Pillow Novels & Stories

Unable to take it anymore, I upload a photo of my husband, Johann Garner, holding hands with his secretary, Eva Ford, to the company's group chat. A long while later, Johann finally replies, "It's just something we do when we're working together. Those who are vile in nature will always view things differently from others." Messages from his colleagues begin flooding the group chat immediately. They all discuss whether or not I'm delusional. But I'm the only one who knows just how skilled Johann is at manipulating others as an expert manipulator. After muting the group chat, I look down at the ring Johann has slipped onto my finger when he first proposed to me. When exactly can I escape from the prison he has built around me?

Rowan Nightshade slapped me in front of his friends, his guards, and the girl he had been protecting for months. The room went dead silent. Then someone whispered, “She deserved it.” For nine years, I had loved Rowan like he was my fate. I endured his coldness, his broken promises, and every time he left me standing alone because another girl needed him more. I kept telling myself it would get better. Rowan was my promised mate. Sooner or later, he would choose me first. But when his palm landed across my face, something inside me finally broke. Rowan thought I would cry, apologize, and forgive him like I always did. Instead, I walked out of the hall, deleted every way to contact him, and told both our packs the promised-mate agreement was over before sunrise. No one believed I would really leave. Until Rowan came to my dorm that night, his eyes red and his voice shaking. “Why, Serena? Just because of one slap?” I looked at the boy I had loved since childhood. Then I smiled. “Yes,” I said. “Because of that slap.”

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

My best friend was obsessed with playing the part of a socialite, always chasing after rich heirs. When she saw posts online about guys making money over the summer by 'renting themselves out,' she decided to copy them. Two thousand for a hike. Five thousand for a dinner date. Twenty thousand for a trip. The prices kept climbing. I was worried she would run into the wrong kind of people, so I tried everything to talk her out of it, to keep her from walking straight into trouble. Later, the wealthy guy she had her eye on went public with another influencer who had built the same 'socialite' persona. She took it out on me. Sold me to a nightclub. I was abused in every way imaginable until I died. There was not even enough left of me to bury. Then, I opened my eyes again. She was already scheming: "Guys like that can make 500 just tagging along on a hike. I'm way prettier. Charging 2,000 isn't too much, right?"

"You’re afraid of what you did? No, Jax. You’re afraid of how much you liked it." Ryker has always played to win. On the ice, in the locker room, even when it comes to protecting Jaxon, the best friend he’s wanted for longer than he’ll admit. But Jaxon is off-limits. Not just because he’s straight, not just because he’s Ryker’s teammate, but because he’s with Erin, Ryker’s sister. Then one night shatters everything. A mistake. A moment of weakness. A touch that should have never happened. Jaxon won’t talk about it. Won’t look at him the same way. Won’t break up with Erin. And Ryker? He should walk away. Should hate him for it. But instead, he keeps getting pulled back in, because Jaxon may be lying to himself, but his body tells a different story. Lust turns to obsession. Friendship to something jagged and raw. And as their secret spirals into something darker, Ryker realizes one thing. Some forbidden things aren’t just dangerous. They’re inevitable.

After getting my heart broken, my best friend takes me to an underground club. There, I meet a handsome wolf. With the intention of getting revenge on my shitty ex-boyfriend, I accept that wolf's invitation. Just like that, his hands begin roaming up and down my body.

Dominic Carrillo is the Alpha of the Manchester ice and the untouchable king of the Carrillo Music Group. For ten years, he’s believed his bond with Aaron Solis was a masterpiece of stability—a fated match built on shared dreams, secret whispers, and the brutal, rhythmic pulse of the Northern Quarter. But beneath the polished surface of their Cheshire glass house, the scent of secrets is beginning to sour the air. Aaron is a master of logistics, but he’s currently orchestrating a high-stakes game of deception. Between dodging Dominic’s piercing gaze and sneaking through the shadows of Manchester with Dominic’s own cousin, Adrian, Aara is walking a razor-thin line. He’s planning the ultimate homecoming surprise—the one thing the powerful Alpha thinks is impossible—while simultaneously navigating the grueling path to siring an heir. But shadows have a way of twisting the truth. When a predatory assistant starts whispering "red flags" and Adrian is spotted lurking in forbidden alleys, Dominic’s inner wolf begins to snarl. Is his mate drifting away, or is the pack being hunted from within? In a world of cold ice and hot blood, the line between devotion and betrayal is as thin as a skate blade. "You were made for me, Aara. You know that, right?" Dominic whispered, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrated against my skin. I leaned into his heat, my breath hitching as he pinned my wrists. "I know, Alpha. Always." His grip tightened, his eyes flashing with a primal, predatory hunger. "Then prove it. Keep your hands where I put them and take every inch of me until you can’t remember any name but mine. I’m going to mark you so deeply that even the moon will know who you belong to."

Late one night, as I scrolled through social media, I came across a relationship influencer with over a hundred thousand followers, teaching men how to "control" their wives. "She actually tried to talk to me about privacy?" he scoffed. "I ignored her for three days, and she handed over all her passwords, crying and begging me not to leave her." The comments exploded almost instantly. The chat went wild. [Take me under your wing, man!] I felt sick to my stomach. Then, without warning, he lifted his phone and pressed a kiss to the screen. A face appeared in the reflection. Mine. Smiling, he turned back to his audience of thousands. "See this? This is the perfect wife I spent three years training." A chill ran through me. I clicked into his profile and scrolled all the way back to his first post. The upload date was the same day we got married. He claimed he was filming prank videos and that it was all just for the livestream—no wonder he got increasingly out of hand. That was when it hit me: he had been lying to me all along. From the moment I stepped into that marriage, I had been nothing more than his experiment, his content, his source of money. Fine. If that was the case, then I would turn his livestream into his worst nightmare. I picked up my phone and sat directly beneath the camera he had installed, then sent a deliberately suggestive message to another man. Three seconds later, the bedroom door burst open. Matthias stormed in and snatched my phone. After reading the message, his lips pressed into a tight line. However, he did not explode. He did not even look at me. Instead, he turned, opened his livestream, and faced the camera. "Send something through, and I'll show you exactly how to put a cheating woman in her place."

At my wedding, my wife’s bodyguard was wearing the same suit as me. He was standing to one side. When I was saying my vows, he suddenly stepped forward and slapped me. I covered my face and looked at my wife, Amelie. She looked calm, as if she knew this would happen. Seeing that she was not reacting, the bodyguard smirked and slapped me again. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. The guests below the stage were flabbergasted, even as rage burned within me. “Call the police!” “You can’t call the police!” Amelie finally said. My parents also suddenly shouted, “No one is allowed to call the police. Anyone who does would be opposing the Bennet family!”

On the day of my 30th birthday, my CEO wife, Sabrina Langford, leaves hurriedly at 3:00 am. She claims that there's something urgent going on at the company and that she won't be home the whole day. Later on, Timothy Cross, the low-income university student that Sabrina has been sponsoring, updates his social media feed. In the photo, I see Sabrina standing at the side of the road in a bikini. Two big apples are balanced on her 36D bust. The caption of the photo is, "The beautiful and hot CEO has personally come over to my house to help me sell the homegrown apples. You'll regret it if you don't buy these apples from me!" My brows are drawn into a frown immediately. When I call Sabrina, the call goes through rather quickly. "I told you I'm very busy at the company right now. If you disturb me again, I'm not going to forgive you this easily!" After that, Sabrina ends the call. But right before the call gets cut off, I can hear a car honking in her background. I'm not mad at her at all. She likes helping others to sell fruits, right? I might as well lend her a helping hand. So, I share the social media post to the company's group chat. The message I've drafted is, "Does anyone here want a batch of rotten apples? I'll even throw in a second-hand wife for free."