The Monster Chronicles

Everyone knows the legend of the Minotaur. But that's all it is to them - a myth. And even then, the myth only tells the tale of a monster slain by a hero. Has anyone bothered to ask the supposed monster for his side of the story? Of course not. And I should know. I am that "monster." I am Asterion, The Minotaur, and the first of my kind. And this is my story. You can decide for yourself who the monster truly is.

My husband forced me into labor the same day his widowed sister-in-law went into labor. I was only seven months pregnant when he dragged me to the hospital and demanded that the doctors induce me. Eugene Cobb locked me inside the delivery room, his expression tense and urgent. "The baby Fiona's carrying has a rare disease. The doctors say he'll die as soon as he's born. They need umbilical cord blood and special stem cells during delivery to save him! My brother's already gone. It's my responsibility to take care of her and her child." A four-inch-long induction needle pierced into my body. Violent contractions crashed through me, cold sweat soaking my back. I said weakly, "Fiona's pregnancy has been perfectly healthy. How could the baby suddenly have a rare disease? And my pregnancy is high-risk. The doctor said I need to carry to term. If you force an early birth, you'll kill both our baby and me!" Eugene frowned slightly and pinned me firmly to the hospital bed. "The doctor already explained everything. The baby just needs to be born two months early. Nothing will happen." As Fiona Smith's screams rang out from the delivery room next door, something seemed to occur to him. "You're not trying to get rid of Fiona because I've been taking care of her all the time, are you? I told you a long time ago I'm only helping her because she's my sister-in-law. How can you be so vicious?" I stared at the blood spreading beneath me and begged through tears. As long as he spared the child, I was willing to divorce him and give them my place. Eugene's eyes filled with impatience. "What are you talking about? I'm the baby's father. Why would I harm my own child?" My umbilical cord blood and stem cells were finally used on Fiona's baby. Both mother and child were declared safe. Only then did Eugene finally remember us. But when he arrived at the hospital room, the only thing waiting for him was an empty bed.

On Christmas night, my husband, Finnick Carson, can't spend the holidays with me because he's on a business trip. In order to make it up to me, he's specifically ordered a Christmas feast from a fancy restaurant and has it delivered to our home. But when I open the box containing the feast, I'm shell-shocked by what I see. Not only an array of seafood—that I'm allergic to—is arranged in containers, but there's also a kid's meal set included in the feast. When the deliveryman sees the food, he apologizes to me and tells me that he's mixed up the two meals that Finnick has ordered. This leaves me feeling uneasy. Why would my husband order two meals? So, I decide to find my way to the delivery address that the other meal is meant for. Shockingly enough, I see Finnick standing in a villa's backyard while picking candies from a Christmas tree with a mother and a son. The little boy then rushes into his arms happily. "Daddy, I'd like an amusement park for my birthday gift this year!" Finnick pinches his cheek gently. "Okay. I'll give your mommy a set of jewelry, too." The woman cuddles with him happily. "You're so nice to us, honey!" Having recorded the entire scene quietly, I send it to my lawyer. "Help me expedite my divorce so that my husband can reunite with his family as soon as possible."

I should’ve known better than to fall for Drake Peterson— my boss, my secret, my addiction, and the only man who could ruin me with a whisper. For two forbidden years, I lived a life no one knew about. By day, I was his perfect secretary. By night, I was the woman he kept hidden in his arms, tangled in his sheets, and locked behind a contract that said I would never expect more. I lied. To him. To myself. To the shattered girl staring back at me every morning. Because I did fall for him—hopelessly, stupidly, completely. And then he destroyed me. With one cold conversation, he terminated our arrangement, handed me a monstrous payout, and told me to walk away like I meant nothing. No explanation. No softness. Just an order: “This is the end, Sabrina.” So I erased him. Deleted my social media. Vanished from New York. And used the money he gave me to build something new— Mendoza Luxe, the jewelry empire that turned me into the woman he never thought I could become. I told myself I was over him. Until the day I ran into an old coworker… and learned the truth I was never meant to hear: Drake is bankrupt. He never married his fiancée. And everything he threw away—including me— he did to protect my life. Now the man who once owned every breath I took is falling from the top… and fate is dragging us back into the same fire that burned us alive. Old desire doesn’t fade. Old wounds don’t heal. Old enemies don’t forget. I survived Drake Peterson once. The question is— can we survive the truth that tore us apart?

My fiancé was drugged at a party and spent the night tangled up with Isabelle Parson, the housekeeper's daughter. Afterward, Isabelle turned up pregnant, and Adrian tore up our engagement right there at our engagement party. "Leah, Isabelle is carrying my child. I have to marry her. I know you still love me. After I marry Isabelle, you can keep being my lover." I agreed to break off the engagement on the spot, then turned around and married Gordon—the man I'd once refused in a family alliance. At my wedding, Adrian stood before the guests and mocked me with an icy smile. "So this is what you've sunk to without me—marrying a pauper on the verge of bankruptcy. I'm the richest man in Jeffolton City. All you have to do is beg, and I'll let you come back to me." I looked at him with a thin, distant smile. He still didn't know—whoever I marry would become the richest man in Jeffolton City.

When Eloise Garpin, my daughter, comes back from kindergarten, she tells me that her teacher, Karen Linsell, has given her class a weird assignment. Apparently, everyone is to record their mothers' menstrual week. But what makes things weirder is that whenever I'm on my period, John Garpin, my husband who's often busy with work, keeps offering to pick Eloise up from kindergarten. One day, I come across a post on a social media app. "What should I do? I've fallen in love with my student's rich father! Oh dear, I really like him so much! You have no idea that his taut and slim waist looks so seductive! Every time I see him, I can't help but moan!" Someone begins admonishing her out of fury the moment they see the post. "What the hell? Are you itching to become a mistress? You really are shameless! Goodness, you're so disgusting! I can't believe you call yourself a teacher!" Unexpectedly, the original poster doesn't care about the comment at all. She even posts a photo featuring the aftermath of her carnal fun with the man. "So what if I am? Anyway, we regularly sleep together every month whenever he picks his daughter up during his wife's period. This is so thrilling!" I'm stunned when I see the million-dollar custom watch strapped to the man's wrist in the photo. And today… happens to be the first day of my period.

On the day of my wedding, the video I had painstakingly prepared was suddenly replaced with intimate photos of my fiancé and my foster sister, Lindsey Remmington. Within minutes, it hit the top of the trending list. Overnight, I, a celebrated actress, became the abandoned bride of a wealthy family and a public laughingstock. Just when I thought I'd reached rock bottom, Connor Presley, the heir of Elluel City's most powerful family and the boy I'd grown up with, returned from abroad. In front of flashing cameras, he knelt with a diamond ring and proposed, silencing every rumor and every sneer. After we married, we appeared inseparable, our affection the picture of perfection. The only flaw was his infertility—his condition made it nearly impossible for me to conceive. For three long years, I underwent countless rounds of IVF. At last, I became pregnant. Connor was overjoyed. To celebrate, he threw an extravagant party in honor of our long-awaited child. But in the middle of the revelry, one of his closest friends, drunk and unguarded, muttered in Russian, "Connor, you've gone too far. Just because Lindsey was afraid pregnancy would ruin her figure, you put the zygote into Rachel's body and let her carry the baby for you two? If she ever finds out the truth, you'll regret it for the rest of your life." Connor's expression didn't waver. "This was Lindsey's only wish. I had to grant it," he replied coolly. "Besides, having a child with Lindsey has always been my dream. Only her child deserves to be the heir of the Presley family. The days ahead are long—I'll make it up to Rachel, eventually." I stood frozen, my body trembling uncontrollably. That night, I made an appointment for an abortion. When Connor stormed into the hospital, raging like a madman, I looked up at him with chilling calm and said, "I understand Russian."

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

My sister and I were caught up in a severe car accident during a family road trip down the mountain for the New Year. Shattered glass pierced straight through my heart. Amid the excruciating pain, my fiance and family insisted the rescue team take my sister, who only had a scratched arm, to the hospital first. As I cried out for them to save me, my fiance snapped at me. “Carol, you should know when to stop vying for attention! “Delila is bleeding so much. Why must you compete with her?” Dad shook his head and sighed while Mom looked at me with disgust. I forced my stiff neck to look over. They were all surrounding my younger sister. She only sported a faint red mark on her arm. No one saw the blood gushing from my chest. No one heard my fading heartbeat. I died during that snowy, bitterly frigid night. When they finally remembered me and came across my cold body, my fiance and family went mad.

I was hit by a car and suffered a brain injury while trying to save my fiancé. Before I was taken to the hospital, I accidentally saw him locked in a kiss with his assistant, Sarah Mineli. I suspected he was cheating, so after I woke up, I pretended to have amnesia to test him. "Do we know each other?" Ethan Meyer paused, his expression faltering. Then he suddenly pointed at his best friend. "I'm your fiancé Grayson Hudson's closest friend. I came to attend your engagement ceremony." I watched as he and Sarah stood there, their fingers tightly intertwined, my face turning deathly pale. Grayson stepped forward and draped his coat over my shoulders. "Baby, I'm your fiancé," he said softly. "It's my fault I couldn't protect you." I felt the warmth of his palm and gave a faint smile. "Then let's go home," I said. "We still have an engagement ceremony to prepare for."