The Iliad Setting の小説・ストーリー

To help my fiance pay off his gambling debts, my father and I worked day and night hauling freight. One night, while driving through the dark, my father got into a car accident. When I rushed to the hospital with the compensation money, all that remained was the final voice message on his phone. "This should be enough to clear Derrick's debts. He really wants to live a good life with you, but it's just that his ex-girlfriend keeps pestering him. Once you pay his debt, take him far away from those people." Holding my father's memorial portrait, I planned to place the five hundred thousand he had earned in front of Derrick. But when I arrived at a private club lounge, I overheard his friends laughing. "Did she actually believe you were drowning in debt? She brought over that much money in one go. What are you going to do next?" Derrick's ex-girlfriend, Jessica Nesley, laughed and chimed in, "Derrick, don't you think the fake debt collectors I hired were pretty convincing? What's next? Are you going to test whether she really wants a future with you?" Derrick flicked ash from his cigarette and replied, "Yeah. The final test is to see whether she's the kind of woman who only cares about money. If she finds out I'm the president of Waterson Group, doesn't resent me for setting up her father, and still agrees to marry me, then I'll believe she truly loves me." Hearing those words, I stared at my father's photo while my whole body trembled. 'Father, this was the honest man we both trusted. Derrick, this wedding is over.'

I thought my life was sorted. I have a sweet fiancé Marcus, a cozy apartment and my wedding Pinterest board on lock. As The classic good girl, I saved myself for marriage, never gave anyone trouble and always made safe choices. That was until I met Marcus’ dad Victor. He is tall, suave and deliciously charming. Everything about him turns me on without trying. Just one handshake and my body lit up like fireworks. I panicked and told myself it was hormones. I avoided him like a plague and even gave Marcus my virginity few months to our wedding but it didn’t work. One girls’ night and one weird-tasting drink, I find myself in his bed begging like I’d lost my mind while he ruins me for his son. Now I dream him every night while Marcus snores beside me like nothing’s changed. He has no idea I’m picturing his father when he touches me and that it’s his dad’s name I’m biting back when I come. I tell myself in the mirror every morning:
“Stop! You’re not this person.” But the second we’re in the same room? My willpower cracks. This isn’t cute at all. It’s messy, embarrassing and terrifying.
 The safest choice feels lonelier every day and the dangerous one feels like I’m finally breathing. What am I to do when the person I’m supposed to marry isn’t the one setting my body on fire and the one who is happens to be the last man I’m allowed to want? How long can I keep this affair hidden from Marcus when the wedding is so close and Victor is determined to have not just my body?

"Why do you always look at me like that?" she whispered. "Because you're unlike anyone I've ever known," Damien replied, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down her spine. "Your presence is like a thorn in my side." Eira scoffed. “You're nothing but trouble, Damien. A brooding vampire with an ego the size of a castle. But you need me. Without me, you’ll be dead.” “I hate that," he admitted. She smirked. "Hate that you need me? So, what is it, Damien? A weakness you'd rather keep in the shadows?" Damien leaned in, his face dangerously close to hers, his gaze dropping to her lips. Eira's breath caught, her shock palpable. "I might need you, Eira, but I don’t want you," he said, his eyes betraying a desire he refused to acknowledge. "Remember that." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her thoughts in turmoil and her lips tingling with the ghost of an almost-kiss. *** The Silverstone Pack is out for blood, determined to avenge their alpha's brutal murder. All eyes are on Damien, the prime suspect, who now lives in the shadows, focused on survival. His only goal is to stay one step ahead and keep himself well-fed. But everything changes when he encounters a girl who is mysteriously immune to his powers. In her, he finds a glimmer of hope he thought long lost. Eira, heartbroken from a recent breakup, unexpectedly crosses paths with Damien. Her confrontation with him quickly turns into a nightmare when she is taken captive. Damien, desperate and cornered, offers her a chilling deal: help him save himself, or face unimaginable suffering. With little choice, Eira agrees, setting off a chain of events that will forever change the course of her life.

On a perfect, sunny afternoon, Rebecca Adam decided to surprise her husband at work. But the surprise was on her. At the front door she discovered there was a "Mrs Adam " already inside. The one the staff knew. not a rumour, not a mistress. a wife. She bypassed security and overheard a truth that made her blood boil. Adam Saint, the man for whom she had abandoned her social circle and her status as a billionaire’s daughter to play the role of a devoted housewife had never loved her. He was already married to her best friend, Elena, long before their own wedding. Rebecca was only a tool. She had even given him her kidney and almost lost her womb in the process, while they had a daughter that bears her name. They wanted the Greene empire. Angry, Rebecca walked away. She stormed into her father’s study and told him she wanted the company. But soon, tragedy struck. Their most powerful partner, a ruthless widower and Adam’s own uncle, Michael Knox pulled out of the deal, sending her father into a life-threatening collapse. Now, to save her legacy, Rebecca must face the coldest man in the business world. Michael Knox expected a blonde spoilt brat. Instead, he met a woman who would do anything to save her family's legacy. Intrigued and dangerously attracted to his nephew's young wife, Michael tried to keep her away. He instructed his staff to never give her access. Day after day, she waited. Same time, same place. It took a heavy downpour and a moment of raw vulnerability to bring them together, setting off a power struggle that would see Rebecca transform into the most powerful woman in the city. And the only one Michael will burn the world for.

Celia Johnson, my boss's sister-in-law, joined the company as the finance director and announced that all reimbursements must strictly follow the standards. I spent an entire week running around for the company and finally closed a five-hundred-thousand-dollar deal. Because the client had used two extra packs of paper towels, the per-person amount for their meal ended up eight dollars over the limit. Celia folded her arms, glanced at the reimbursement form on my desk, and sneered. "Five hundred and eight dollars?" "Yes. Last night at The Peak Restaurant, where we closed Richard's deal. Zack was there too," I explained patiently. "Eight dollars over the per-person limit. Not reimbursable," Celia said coldly. I tried to reason with her. "This was a special case. The client is high-level, and the deal amount is large, and Zack personally said it would be fully reimbursed last night." She returned the reimbursement form to me. "I don't care who said that. Don't think closing a five-hundred-thousand-dollar contract lets you ignore company rules. Reimbursements must all follow policies. Everyone will follow them to the letter." I took a deep breath. I knew arguing with her head-on would get me nowhere, so I called Zack directly. Zack said, "I did say it would be reimbursed, but I never said company rules could be ignored. It's just five hundred. And you still get commission from closing the deal. You young people need to have perspective." I stopped arguing. I turned around and refused the delivery containing the hard copy of the five-hundred-thousand-dollar cooperation contract, smiling as I explained, "Company rules say all cash on delivery packages must be refused. "Also, today is my last day here. Starting tomorrow, I work for Richard's company. As the client, I will be setting the rules this time."

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules. On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver. She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship. For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation. For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city. My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day. "Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!" "Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!" Even then, I never gave up. Until the final day. I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery." I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain. Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less." I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed. My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant. I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime. It seemed there was no need.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

'Since when did so much hate become affection, no, NEED' Callum Reyes has spent his entire life earning his place. A scholarship wide receiver at Crestfield University — one of the most elite football programs in the country — he knows exactly what he is to the people here: a charity case with fast legs and a GPA they didn't expect. He keeps his head down, his grades up, and his heart locked behind something no one has ever bothered to pick. Then there's Jaxon Whitfield. Quarterback. Team captain. Golden boy of Crestfield's football dynasty. Jaxon is everything Callum isn't — legacy money, a famous last name, and a jaw that could cut glass. He's also, by every measurable standard, the most infuriating human being Callum has ever been forced to share oxygen with. From the first day Callum stepped onto that field, Jaxon decided he was a problem. Too fast. Too good. Too'there.' He rides Callum harder than any other player, gets under his skin in ways that shouldn't be possible, and looks at him with those dark green eyes like Callum is something he can't figure out — and hates himself for trying. But when a career-threatening injury, a locker room secret, a rivalry that's starting to feel like something else entirely, and one night neither of them planned for collide — Callum and Jaxon have to reckon with something they were never supposed to feel. 'Offside' is a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers MM sports romance about two young men learning that the person who makes your blood boil might just be the person setting you on fire. It's about class and legacy, found family and loneliness, the weight of expectation, and what happens when the one person you want to hate is the only one who actually'sees' you.

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Xavier Harrington for four years. Every time we meet up with each other, the first thing he says to me is, "You've gotten fatter… and shorter." When my friend finds out about it, she jokes to me, "Maybe he has another girlfriend who's taller and thinner than you." It's supposed to be a joke, and yet I take it seriously. It explains why I've decided to travel a span of 1,800 miles just to seek Xavier out at the city he's stationed to. But that's when I accidentally stumble upon Xavier going on a stroll with a young woman side by side. I trail behind them, only to see them going to a cafe that's filled with people. There, they line up so that they can snap commemorative photos. However, whenever Xavier's hanging out with me, he often turns my suggestions down impatiently. To him, lining up at such places is a waste of time. Later on, Xavier and the woman secure a table in a restaurant. There, Xavier pulls out a chair for her before he starts setting out the cutlery for her. Even when the food is served, he will subconsciously push the woman's favorite dish in her direction. For the first time ever in our relationship of eight years, I find out that Xavier can be caring when he feels like it. I watch as Xavier chats animatedly with the woman at the table. He shares everything with her, be it the irritating experiences at work or the funny and interesting incidents that have happened to him so far. Then, I lower my head to look at the short text messages Xavier has sent to me in the past. "Time for work. It's lunch time. I'm about to nap." Suddenly, I find my relationship with Xavier extremely boring, so I dig out the invitation sent by my company regarding their outstation request and tap on it. After all, I no longer want anything to do with this flawed relationship anymore.

Ariel Marie Morrison is 18 years old. When she was just 10, she lost her parents in a tragic plane crash. They were on a business trip to New York when their flight, the first to hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, claimed the lives of her parents and 158 other passengers. Afterward, Ariel was taken in by her Uncle Steve, her father’s twin brother, and Aunt Diane, her mother’s best friend. Ariel had always dreamed of attending Harvard University, just like her parents, who often spoke fondly of their time there. Determined to follow in their footsteps, she earned a full scholarship to study English Literature. On her first day on campus, dressed in her best outfit and wearing her mother’s pearls, she crossed paths with the infamous Knight Brothers and their crew—an encounter she would soon wish had never happened. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said gently. “Watch where you’re going, nerd!” came a deep, mocking voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, watch it,” another chimed in. “Umm… excuse me?” she replied, disbelief in her tone. Laughter erupted around her as she felt dizzy and her throat tightened—panic setting in. Needing to escape, she quickly walked away, though she could feel three pairs of eyes on her. Austin, 18, Dustin, 19, and Justin, 20—the Knight Brothers—were the quintessential All-American golden boys: football stars, wealthy, arrogant, and adored by many. Every girl wanted them, and every guy wanted to be them. But when they set their sights on the sweet, shy, and innocent Ariel, they began treating her like property, possessive and controlling, even though she had never wronged them. The teasing, bullying, and name-calling began. Would Ariel stay quiet and play the part of the “good little nerd,” or would she find the courage to stand up to the Knights?