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Wedding Day Plot Twist: I Leaked His Affairs

Wedding Day Plot Twist: I Leaked His Affairs

After getting laid off, I come across a post when I'm looking for a new job. "What sort of job is the most lucrative these days?" There's a comment with the most likes in the comment section. "Find yourself a sugar daddy, duh! My sugar daddy is already the CEO of a company even though he's only in his 30s! He gives me 100 thousand dollars every month. Not only is he handsome and caring, but he's also amazing in bed! Hoo boy, we can keep going around seven times every night!" Someone asks the commentor, "How did you find such an amazing daddy?" "Last May, he was at a bar drinking his sorrows away after an argument with his girlfriend. I consoled him for a bit. That's how we ended up being together. "He kept complaining that his girlfriend was like dead fish in bed, so he was already sick of her a long time ago. You know what men are like, always going for excitement in life." My fingers curled around my phone slightly. Last May, I did get into a huge argument with my boyfriend, Brian Dicht. He never came home that night. The next morning, he returned while reeking of alcohol. I continue scrolling down the comment section, only to see the commentor posting a photo. "See? I was acting all cute and whiny to him just now by telling him that I cut my finger when I was preparing a meal for myself. He agreed to drop by my place to keep me company tonight." In the photo, there's a diamond ring adorning the ring finger that has a plaster wrapped around it. That ring looks exactly the same as the set of engagement rings Brian and I have. At the same time, my phone starts ringing. Soon, Brian's voice drifts from the other end of the line. "Bella, something came up in the company at the last minute. I'm not coming home tonight."
Short Story · Romance
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200 Reasons to Never Look Back

200 Reasons to Never Look Back

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years. He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack. And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power. In those nine years, he betrayed me countless times. The first time, on my birthday, he announced that the celebration belonged to another she-wolf he had just met. The second time, I brewed medicine for his injuries, only to be accused by the Elders of bewitching the Alpha. He didn’t defend me—instead, he ordered me to be whipped in front of the entire pack. The third time, I was three months pregnant. He stood there, watching as his childhood sweetheart pushed me down the stone steps. I lost our pup that day. Nine years. Three thousand two hundred nights. I endured his indifference, his humiliation, his contempt. Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table. Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle. It was his 200th betrayal. When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me. His words were sharper than fangs: “Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.” At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant: “Prepare the council’s tea. Now.” I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission. “I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.” He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark. Ours was an agreement, nothing more. And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends. I gathered the Luna emblem, the wedding ring, and our only wedding photo—and burned them all. In three days, I’ll leave this pack. I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research. And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Her Blindness Is a Scam, and I'm the Wallet

Her Blindness Is a Scam, and I'm the Wallet

In order to gather 500 thousand dollars for my blind girlfriend's surgical bills, I've accepted a delivery order that's meant for someone at a private racing club. The huge floor-to-ceiling monitor is currently playing the live footage of the champion who's won the racing tournament. Champagne bottles can be seen spraying everywhere as the audience cheers loudly for the victor. Soon, the champion takes off her helmet and shakes her head full of curls off her face. Strikingly beautiful features are revealed the next moment. Next to the champion stands her childhood friend, Lewis Ross. I feel my hands clenching around the plastic bag containing the food containers. The woman shown on the screen is none other than Evelyn Carter, my so-called blind girlfriend. "Why aren't you happy even though you've won the tournament, Evelyn? Are you missing that boyfriend of yours who's still working his ass off for money?" A familiar voice comes from the lounge. An amused yet malicious smirk is played on Evelyn's lips at the moment. "Why did you bring him up? Then again, it's thrilling, pretending to be blind and all. Whenever he changes his clothes at home, he does it right in front of me." Everyone around Evelyn begins roaring with cheers. "You're so lucky, Ms. Carter!" After taking a sip from her champagne glass, Evelyn responds in a flippant tone, "Lucky? He's so busy with work every day just to gather enough money for my surgical bills! That man doesn't have a single romantic cell in him—he's just as stiff as the stick up his ass!" A wave of laughter echoes from the crowd once again. Feeling as though my blood had turned to ice, I turn on my heel and begin walking out of the club. I can still hear Lewis' cheeky voice ringing out from behind me. "There are only three days left in our one-year bet, Evelyn. Don't tell me you really fell for your boyfriend!" Evelyn merely snorts in response. She drawls back, "Don't worry. I'll dump him in three days."
Short Story · Romance
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Hey, Ugly Duckling

Hey, Ugly Duckling

From my earliest memories, my entire family is cold and distant toward me. When my parents look at my younger sister, Claire Lloyd, their eyes fill with warmth and joy. Yet, when they turn to me, only disgust remains. Claire's life is filled with applause and excessive love, while mine is filled with disdain and suffering. When the explosion erupts at the street corner, I save the stranger beside me. Later, I learn he is Byron Whitmore, a mafia family's Don. He begins pursuing me after I rescue him. Later, I quit my job and move to a new place, but he finds me and proposes in 100 different ways. "Why me?" I ask countless times. "Because it's you," he always answers. The wedding causes a sensation throughout the city. I truly seem to have transformed from an ugly duckling into a swan. That is, until I'm five months pregnant, when Claire needs a transfusion of rare Rh-negative blood after a car accident. The blood bank has a shortage. Because of that, my parents knock me unconscious and send me to the hospital. In my daze, the blood extraction machine hums continuously. As two thousand milliliters of blood leave my body, I see Byron. Tears well up in my eyes. I begin thinking he's here to save me. Instead, I hear him say, "We can't take any more. Sharon and the baby will die." "But Claire has lost too much blood. She'll die, too..." My mother pleads. "No one wants Claire safe more than I do." Byron's voice is thick with pain. "She's my first love. I've never forgotten her. I only married Sharon because her face looks so much like Claire's. "But I can't trade her life for Claire's. Trust me—I'll find another way." So, that's his reason for marrying me. The blood extraction machine continues running, but my heart has already stopped beating. The affection I see in his eyes has never been for me. He's always looking through me at someone else. Everyone in the world loves Claire, and Byron is not the exception that I foolishly believe him to be. That grand wedding is nothing but an ugly duckling's self-deceiving fantasy.
Short Story · Mafia
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Alpha Begged His Omega Luna Back

Alpha Begged His Omega Luna Back

The day before our mating ceremony, my Alpha mate suddenly demanded I give him five hundred thousand dollars. "You're just an Omega. Even if you're pregnant, you have no right to become the pack's Luna. But our pack is facing a financial crisis right now. We don't have enough weapons or healing supplies. If you can provide funding, the pack might accept a generous Luna who contributes to our survival." To help me, Dad emptied his entire life savings: "I'm old now. Seeing you happy is enough for me. I understand Damon's position as the pack's Alpha. This money—I'll pay it for you." But shortly after the mating ceremony, Dad was sent by my mate to the frontline battlefield to fight rogue wolves. He was severely injured in combat. I couldn't afford the expensive healing herbs he needed. I had no choice Damon Blackwood to help me save my father's life. I never expected his account balance to show only a few dollars! I demanded answers. He accused me of scheming against him and dragged me straight to the pack healer to force an abortion. "You just became Luna and you're already plotting against me? Think having my pup gives you power over me? Let me tell you the truth—I don't lack women willing to bear my children!" I worked every job I could find and borrowed money from everyone I knew. But I still couldn't afford those expensive herbs. The day Dad died, I couldn't even buy him a decent burial plot in the pack cemetery. On my way home from the funeral, I saw Damon with another woman in a luxury jewelry store, selecting expensive pieces. "Turns out all Omegas are the same—always scheming. I thought Sage was different from other women. Didn't realize she was just another gold-digger trying to climb the social ladder by becoming Luna. I guess I lost this bet. Pick any gemstone you want, baby. I'm buying." But when I finally gave up and turned to leave for good, he broke down crying and begged me not to go.
Short Story · Werewolf
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Lies From Her Heart

Lies From Her Heart

My name is Daniella Limebear. In my past life, my long-lost younger sister, Heidi Limebear, returns home. On her very first day back, I hear the faint whispers of her heart: "At the riverside, I saw the other kids learning to swim with their dads… I wish I could join them." The next day, I drive Heidi to the clearest stretch of river in the countryside. I teach her to float and paddle, guiding her hands with mine. Without warning, she lets out a scream and disappears beneath the water. I plunge into the river, fighting against the current to reach her. Suddenly, she clutches my arm and pulls me under. With the last of my strength, I push her toward the shore. Water fills my lungs, and darkness swallows me. Amid the piercing wail of the ambulance siren, Heidi curls into our mother's arms, tears streaking her cheeks. Mom slaps me across the face. In Dad's eyes, there is only utter disappointment. "Heidi has already endured so much while she was gone for ten years! I can't believe you would try to drown her the moment she comes home!" he snaps. I stand frozen, unable to defend myself. Shortly after the incident, a group of troublemakers just outside the school gates corners Heidi. Once again, I "hear" her cries of despair echoing in my mind: "He said if I don't meet him tonight, he'll set our home on fire! Daniella, please save me! You're the only one who can." The moment I arrive at the scene, I'm immediately surrounded by a group of thugs. With cruel, mocking smiles, they close in from all sides. "Don't blame us. Your precious younger sister paid us five thousand dollars to kill you." "She claimed that once you're out of the picture, the billion‑dollar inheritance goes straight to her." Just as I begin to suffocate, I notice Heidi standing not far away. Her face remains perfectly calm and composed. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day she was found and brought home. Once more, her inner voice echoes in my ears: "I really want to swim… I wish Daniella would take me."
Short Story · Imagination
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One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband

One Week Postpartum, Betrayed by My Husband

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"
Short Story · Romance
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The Man She Let Die

The Man She Let Die

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."
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