The Tutorial Is Too Hard Novels & Stories

Each time my husband touches my body, I lose my control. When he puts his lips on mine, I burn in passion and I want him to keep loving me like this. when his rough fingers touch my curvy body, I become restless, and moan his name, but He does not take my name but his ex's name. My name is Jasmine Smith, the secret wife of Asia's biggest mafia king Eric Varghese. It is said that Eric Varghese is a psycho. He took the life of his lover with his own hands, just because she attempted to escape from his prison. Who would to get close to a devil like him? He left me no other choice for the sake of that 4-year-old innocent girl, Ryle Who was imprisoned in that monster's house. In order to save her I willingly married this monster. Rumours fly about his cruelty, especially towards the women in his life but I'm his possession now. His secrets might hold the key to my past but at what cost?

My parents set me up on a marriage match—and it turned out to be my girlfriend, Chloe. I was hyped. I went straight to the luxury boutique where she worked, ready to tell her. Then I stopped outside the VIP room. "Chloe, if you're dumping him, just do it. Why fake cancer? You're putting bad juju on yourself." "What do you know? A dead ex sticks forever. Next week, I'm getting engaged to a Remington. Having an ex like me? That's his win." Inside, her friends hyped her up. Laughter all around. I just stood there, cold spreading through me. Three years. A joke to her. She was trading up—and still playing me one last time. I clenched my jaw and called my mom. "Mom, cancel the engagement... No rush. I'll handle it myself."

3 years after getting married, I am still a virgin. "Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!

“You were never meant to be Luna.” Those words destroyed Aria’s life. Rejected by her fated mate, Remus, and cast out by the family she desperately wanted to belong to, Aria leaves her pack carrying a secret, she’s pregnant with the Alpha’s child. Five years later, she returns as a successful businesswoman and devoted mother, no longer the broken girl they abandoned. But when her son’s mysterious wolf abilities and a growing political conflict force her back into wolf territory, old wounds reopen. Now Remus wants a second chance. The problem? Another Alpha wants her too. And it’s far too late to claim her.

My little sister, Maya, got into a car crash. I put her in a high-end recovery center. Her injuries were bad. Progress crawled. They kept extending her treatment, one phase at a time. Early this morning, the manager called. Said the card wouldn't cover the next phase. That's when it hit me—peak season at the company. I'd been slammed, barely breathing. I hadn't topped it up in forever. I told her I'd transfer the money. She shut it down. Said I had to show up and sign in person before they'd extend anything. So after work, I rushed over. Straight into rush hour traffic. Then she called again. "Ms. Keyne, your balance hit zero three minutes ago. We're terminating services. This is a premium facility—we don't do free care. The patient tied to your account has been removed per policy."

I was the real son, finally found and brought back by my billionaire parents, only to be diagnosed with leukemia right after. The only person who matched my bone marrow was the adopted son, Doug Daniel. So my parents rushed to bring him back into the family, making him my donor. To make it up to him, they did everything they could for him. My parents handed over the inheritance. My fiancée, Moira Stevens, hovered around him every day. When the pain got so bad that I could barely stand it, my parents pointed at me and snapped, "Jay! You keep bringing up your illness. Are you really that eager to take away Doug's health?" Moira, a medical school professor, didn't hold back either. "I'm a doctor. You think I don't understand your condition? You act like you're dying every single day. You just can't stand that we're being nice to Doug." On the day of the transplant, I lay on the operating table and waited. But Moira, the one in charge of harvesting Doug's marrow, never came in. I closed my eyes and waited for death. None of them knew I had already signed up to donate my body.

I was only 17, dreaming of building a life far away from my suffocating town, away from my dishonest family. My mother lived off scams, and I refused to be part of it. But just before I turned 18, my world fell apart. I was pregnant! And not just by anyone, but by the richest, cruelest man to ever set foot in my small town. The worst part? We had never even met. Now, I have to fight for something I never had: a chance to rewrite my own fate.

Bethany Cole and Shane Stafford were supposed to get married in two weeks, but Shane was thinking about postponing the wedding again. It was all because his stepsister, Yelena White, had another episode and was crying for him to drop everything and take her to Maldivea to see the ocean. The wedding had been planned for two years, and Bethany had had enough. If Shane did not want to get married, she would find someone else to take his place.

My ex-husband has remarried. Before the wedding, his new wife sends me an invitation. I can't understand this. Why would she invite her husband's ex-wife to her wedding? Half a year later, my ex-husband and his new wife make it onto the trending topics. #HaveMilesGallagher'sStandardsDroppedAfterHisDivorce? #MilesGallagherMustBeFilledWithRegret

When her perfect marriage shatters overnight, a brilliant architect is left with nothing but betrayal—and a name dragged through the mud. Branded a liar, cast aside by the man who vowed to protect her, she disappears… and reinvents herself. Years later, she returns—sharper, colder, and far more dangerous. Now a fearless corporate whistleblower, she sets her sights on the powerful empire her ex-husband built, determined to tear it down piece by piece. Secrets will be exposed. Lies will burn. And this time, she’s the one in control. But as the truth begins to unravel, so do the walls around her heart. Because the deeper she digs, the more she realizes not everything was as it seemed… and revenge might cost her more than she ever intended. In a game of power, betrayal, and redemption—will she destroy him… or find her way back to love?