Unikitty No Day Like Snow Day Novels & Stories

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.

I was in love with Ethan Black, a brilliant man with big dreams. I gave him my twenties, my body, my loyalty. I worked three jobs while he chased his startup dreams. And when he finally made it, he became a stranger. Then I found out he got another woman pregnant, the same woman who dumped him in college when his family lost everything. That nearly destroyed me. But I stayed. I told myself love was worth it. But nothing could prepare me for the day he left our four-year-old daughter home alone… to go see her. And our little girl died. I buried my child and with her, the woman I used to be. Now, I live for one thing only: Revenge. He took everything from me. Now I’ll take everything from him. He doesn’t know it yet… but I’m not the same woman he left behind. And by the time I’m done, he’ll wish he never met me.

My father bought twin brothers from the black market to serve as bodyguards for me and my sister. My sister chose the tall, strong older brother, leaving me with the frail, mute younger one. Feeling sorry for him, I kept him close, seeking doctors for his silence and maintaining distance to respect his apparent OCD. I thought trauma had shaped him that way. But when our father's enemies kidnapped us, he abandoned me without hesitation, choosing to die shielding my sister. In his final moments, he spoke for the first time. "You finally see me." To me, he said, "In the next life, please don't choose me." I realized then that he was neither mute nor afflicted with OCD. His silence and aversion were directed solely at me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose the bodyguards. This time, I'd grant his wish.

For a year, I’d lived a double life. During the day, I am Lila Montgomery, the heiress of Montgomery Industries. At night, I am just Lila, the woman Ethan was falling for. Or so I thought.“Grace,” he’d murmured in his sleep one night, his arms tightening around me. “Don’t leave again.” That was the first crack in my fantasy. The final crack that ended our so-called relationship was when he accused me of wanting to trap him with a baby. Now just days later, my mother wants me to meet Nicholas Baldwin, Ethan’s uncle. “Might be exactly what you need to forget his nephew.” I ignored my brother’s teasing, walking past him. “I don’t need another Baldwin man in my life.” But seeing Ethan now in person and with Grace by his side… “Nick,” I whispered urgently, “I need a huge favor.” He must have heard the desperation in my voice, “Name it.” “Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

On the day of my birthday, my cousin, who does ballet, falls and injures her leg. My father smacks my leg with a club in a fit of rage. I cry out in pain, but he doesn't care. He sneers and says, "Now, you know how it feels! Why didn't you stop to think how much pain your cousin would be in when you pushed her and made her fall down the stairs?" He hits me with all his might until I can't make any more sounds. To drive the lesson home, he shoves me into the basement, uncaring that I'm on the brink of death. "I'll let you out of there once you stop thinking these dirty thoughts, Yvonne!" But when he opens the door to the basement once more, all he sees is my decomposing corpse.

My husband—the mafia boss—loses his first love to suicide. Celeste Reyes couldn't accept that he was marrying me. Since then, Darius Sterling mourns her publicly every day, and we become the kind of couple that despises each other more than anyone else. However, when the Moretti family of Eastbourne sends assassins after me, Darius takes the bullet meant for me. The bullet is poisoned. As he lies weakly in my arms, he whispers, "I saved your life. My debt to your mother is repaid. In our next life, let's not meet again. "I don't want to hate you anymore. I just hope you'll always be the girl next door. Now, it's time for me to be with Celeste." And just like that, he dies in my arms. I cry my heart out, but Darius never looks at me again. Only then do I realize how foolish and childish our hatred has been all these years. Later, after I eliminate the Morettis, I take my own life for him. Yet, when I open my eyes again, I'm back at 20—the year of our engagement. I reject my father's plan for an arranged marriage and choose to go to New Verden to manage the family business. This time, I'll stay far away from Darius and give him and Celeste my blessings.

When my sister, Helen Fisher, was dying of late-stage cancer, she got tied to a system that forced her to win over the fake heir, Shaun Fisher. She begged me to donate a kidney to him. As long as his affection for her reached 100%, she would be cured. When my fiancée, Joan West, was on the verge of bankruptcy, she got bound to a system that told her to save Shaun. She begged me to take the fall for him. As long as he stayed out of jail, she could bring her family back to glory. They both said I was the one they cared about most, that everything they did was out of necessity. But on the day I was released, they hired a group of thugs to violate me, took photos, and blasted them all over the internet. Helen said, "Shaun wants to be my only brother. I have to make that happen." Joan said, "Shaun wants to be my husband. I can't bring myself to say no to him." That same day, my parents called me disgusting and threw me out of the house. Joan and Shaun held a grand wedding. Helen gave them half her fortune as a wedding gift. I was left dragging a broken body, my name ruined, my future gone. With nothing left to lose, I called the director of the lab and gave the order. "Activate the anti-system device." The director replied, "The device has been activated. In one week, every change brought by the system will disappear." Helen would return to terminal cancer and die. Joan would spend her life in poverty. That was their original fate, wasn't it?

The doctors said it was over—stage four, nothing left to fight. I had three days, max. I signed the organ donor papers myself. If I was gonna die, at least someone else could get a second shot. Told my family I was sick. But my so-called sister—the doctor—shrugged it off like I was making it up. She convinced them I was losing it, not dying. My parents and fiancé fell for it. Handed me over like she was some hero. She wasn't. She pushed me closer to the end. And when I finally died, the same people who wouldn't listen cried like they hadn't let it happen.

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.

She planned perfect weddings for a living. Too bad her own marriage was a lie. Dahlia Miller was the secret wife of Sebastian Hawthorne—billionaire, CEO, and a man who treated love like a business contract. She endured his cold indifference, his ruthless family, and the loneliness of a marriage that only existed on paper. Until the night she discovered the truth. Sebastian wasn’t just distant. He belonged to someone else. So Dahlia did the one thing no one expected from the obedient Mrs. Hawthorne. She left. Now she’s rebuilding her life on a forgotten farm, turning broken land into beautiful beginnings for other people’s love stories. But Sebastian Hawthorne doesn’t lose what belongs to him. He refuses to sign the divorce papers. And the longer he stays, the more dangerous the truth becomes. Because Dahlia isn’t just hiding a broken heart. She’s hiding his child. And the problem with walking away from a man like Sebastian Hawthorne… is that he always comes back to claim what’s his.