Understandable Have A Nice Day Novels & Stories

He was never supposed to matter. Jace Ryder was a risk—reckless, ruined, and one mistake away from disappearing for good. Hockey was his only future… until the accident took it from him, leaving behind nothing but rumors and a reputation already falling apart. Nyra Hale doesn’t believe in accidents. She believes in strategy. With two months left before she’s forced into a life she didn’t choose, Nyra needs chaos—something powerful enough to fracture the perfect image her father built. And Jace? He’s exactly the kind of damage she can control. Her offer is simple: She rebuilds his career. He plays the role of her boyfriend. Publicly, they’re irresistible—fire and chemistry no one can ignore. Privately, it’s a negotiation neither of them fully controls. Because Jace isn’t as broken as she thought. And Nyra isn’t as untouchable as she pretends. What starts as a calculated game turns into something dangerously real—late nights, lingering touches, the kind of tension that doesn’t stay fake for long. And when buried truths surface—about the accident, about betrayal, about who’s been pulling the strings—the line between control and surrender begins to blur. Someone wanted Jace gone. Someone close. And as everything unravels, Nyra and Jace are forced to decide: Was this ever just a game… or were they always meant to lose themselves in it?

Divorced, humiliated, and betrayed by her ex-husband and best friend after she caught her ex-husband proposing to her best friend on the day that was supposed to be their son’s death anniversary. Elodie vows to avenge the humiliation that she caused as she joins hands with her ex-husband's most hated enemy who was presumed dead before, Marcel, the rogue king. What would happen when Elodie finds out that she is pregnant for her ex-husband, Darius ? What would happen when Darius realizes that he has been living a lie and now, he wants his unwanted Luna and his triplets? How would he get them back when the Rogue King claims his children and his ex-wife as his? Would Darius get them back or would he be destroyed in the wave of Elodie’s wrath?

Rule number one: Do not kiss strange men in clubs. Rule number two: Never kiss the owner of the club. Rule number three: If he’s a secret billionaire with a dark past and a disturbing obsession with your heartbeat? Run. My name is Scarlett Whitmore. And I broke all three. I was born with a heart condition called Mitral Valve Prolapse. My mother hates me for ruining her life. My brother cannot stand me. And my boyfriend, Drake Bittencourt, the man I thought was the love of my life, proposed to my twin sister in front of 19,000 hockey fans. And she accepted him without hesitation. When my sister walks into the club I work at, flaunting Drake’s ring without remorse, I make a rash decision: I grab the first man that catches my fancy and kiss him like my life depends on it. He turns out to be Harlan Rousseau. Team captain of the formidable Vancouver Icefangs. Hockey god. And according to the tabloids, dead broke and drowning in debt. But the tabloids are wrong. Not only is Harlan Rousseau NOT broke, he’s the secret heir to a ninety- billion-dollar oil empire. He offers me a deal: wear his ring. play the devoted wife. And sleep in his bed for a year. In exchange, he’ll pay off my medical debt and save my best friend from homelessness. The most important of all: he offers a chance to get my revenge. I should’ve said no. But I was desperate. And desperate women make deals with the devil. The longer I stay, the more I realize Harlan Rousseau is not just hiding wealth. He’s hiding a monster. And I’m starting to think I don’t want to run from it…

I had been secretly married to Vivian Grant, my CEO wife, for six years, yet she never once let our son call her Mom. After she missed his birthday again because of her male assistant, I finally put the divorce papers in front of her and walked away for good with our son. The woman who had always seemed so controlled finally fell apart. She stormed into the office demanding to know where I’d gone. But this time, neither my son nor I were coming back.

On Christmas Day, my dad gave me a golden apple. My roommates gasped in envy and immediately demanded I treat them to a meal. I smiled and agreed. I told them to head out first and that I'd join them shortly. When I came out of the bathroom, the dorm was empty. Sharon Everton's laptop was still glowing. I walked over to shut it down. That's when a WhatsApp group named 'Anti-Gold Digger Alliance' popped up on the screen. [No wonder she didn't come back last night. Bet she spent the whole night escorting again just to get that golden apple!] [A designer bag the day before, a golden apple today. With how many men she's serving every day, I wonder how wrecked she is down there.] [We have to hit her with a big bill today. Her money's dirty anyway. Spending it for her is basically doing a good deed!] There were four people in the dorm. Three of them were in that group chat. There was no doubt that they were talking about me. The friends I'd treated with genuine kindness all this time turned out to be ungrateful snakes.

My family sold me for $10 million. For three years, I was Dominic Winter's dirty secret—locked in his basement, bleeding twice a week to keep the ruthless billionaire alive. While I slowly died in the basement, he planned his wedding with my sister. The night he touched me, and whispered that I was his salvation, making me believe I mattered—I was pathetic enough to believe his words. However, I heard him tell his mother the truth one night: "She's just a medical necessity. Handle her with care." That was all I was to him—a medical necessity. I was eight weeks pregnant with his child. I ran. Six years later, I'm Dr. Bree Roberts—the world-renowned scientist he's been desperately searching for. I have our son. I have my freedom. I have the only cure that can save his dying life. Now Dominic Winter is on his knees, begging. But the girl he destroyed? She's dead. And the woman who rose from those ashes? She's going to make him pay for every drop of blood he took.

Camden Price's true love, Lynn Gardner, died on my surgery table. Unexpectedly, the malicious Camden chose to protect me from backlash and even proposed to me. He treated me extraordinarily well after we got married. Camden would take me to taste the hottest chili. We would sign up for the most death-defying activities like bungee jumping. When it was late at night, he would take me to the rowdiest and most dangerous bars to drink our hearts away. All this led to me contracting stomach cancer. During my late-stage cancer, I found the diary he left at home. Everything he did with me was what Lynn wanted to do with him. On the last page of his diary, he wrote hatefully, "She deserves to die." I did die. I died after Lynn was found alive. She had faked her death. I died on the day Lynn was marrying another man. You should be happy now, Camden.

On the seventh year of our anniversary, the anniversary gift my husband, Anthony Walker, has given me is a divorce agreement that is valid for seven days. He has planned all this just because he has his eye on a female intern in his company, who is seven years younger than him. So, he wants to be in a legitimate relationship with her that only lasts for seven days. On the first day, they reserve an entire cinema for themselves. After that, they make love to each other from the doorway to the seats. On the second day, they set off fireworks at the beach. The fireworks are so bright that half of the city is illuminated by them. On the fifth day, the intern, Tanya Lindt, barges into my art exhibition. With tears running down her face, she accuses me of being the side chick in her relationship in front of the mass media. That night, news of a rising female painter becoming a homewrecker for the sake of love goes viral. More than 100 thousand malicious comments directed at me are posted in the comment section. On the sixth day, Anthony apologizes to me on Tanya's behalf. Apparently, the punishment he has set for her is that she's not allowed to go shopping for three days. On the seventh day, Anthony finally realizes that something is wrong. He calls me 99 times just to remind me that we'll get remarried the next day. "Okay," I say to him. Then, I inform my assistant to check in my baggage. What Anthony doesn't know is that I already came up with a plan to further my studies overseas seven days ago. This time, I'm not going to waste my time on him anymore.

My boyfriend Julian is a chess grandmaster, a genius. At sixteen, he became the youngest grandmaster in North American history. I gave him ten years of my life, but a ring was never on the table. But when he reached the pinnacle of his career and won the Grand Slam, he still refused to break the pact he'd made with his family about his career. "According to my plan, I'm not considering marriage or any other form of long-term commitment until all my goals are achieved." I didn't argue with him. I quietly packed his luggage for the World Championship and wished him the best. He had no idea that at the very moment he was lifting the championship trophy with the world watching, I was dragging my failing body to sign my own name on a euthanasia consent form.

At the company's annual meeting, my promotion opportunity goes to an intern instead. I confront Mitchell Wilson, a manager, only to be publicly humiliated. "The industry is in a slump, yet you have the best sales performance in the entire company. Who knows how you get your clients?" I drank until my stomach bled and ended up in the hospital in the middle of the night. I have forced a smile while serving arrogant, sleazy executives. Yet, none of that feels as humiliating as this moment. My ex-boyfriend looks at me gloatingly while holding the intern's hand as they plan a celebration party. Before leaving, he mocks me, "Yvette is the Saccone Group heiress. Once her evaluation period ends, she will go back to inherit the company. Who do you think you are?" I frown in confusion—I am the Saccone Group heiress.