Walking Meme Novels & Stories

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.

​One fake fiancé. Two dangerous secrets. Zero room for error. ​Zoey Aguilar has lost it all: her wedding, her status, and her pride. To survive her ex’s high-profile gala with her head held high, she needs a miracle. Or at least, a very convincing fake fiancé. ​But the man who shows up isn't the escort she hired. ​Enter Christian Bellucci. Reclusive, powerful, and cold, he’s a billionaire who doesn't play games unless he’s winning them. He needs Zoey just as much as she needs him, and he’s willing to lie to the world to get what he wants. ​As their "relationship" becomes a public obsession, the lines between acting and reality begin to blur. Caught between a past that won’t let go and a man whose calm control hides a storm of devotion, Zoey realizes she’s trapped in a web of family pressure and deadly jealousy. ​In this game of revenge and ownership, Zoey must decide: is she reclaiming her life, or is she becoming his most prized possession? ​Walking away once cost Zoey her reputation. This time, it might cost her life.

Thirteen years of my life were given to Ethan Cross. I believed in his music before anyone else did, stayed through the long nights when success was only a dream, and held on to every promise that I would be the woman by his side when it all finally came true. After eight years as his girlfriend and four more wearing his ring, he walked away. Seven months later, an invitation arrived. Ethan is getting married. And not to me. He is marrying my cousin sister. The wedding is set on a two week getaway meant for couples only. Ethan may think I will stay behind, broken and forgotten, but he is wrong. I will not be showing up alone. My date is Adrian Cole, Ethan’s powerful boss in the music industry, the man who holds his career in his hands and the one rival he never wanted near me. Ethan thought he left me behind. But this time I am not the girl he abandoned. I am stronger, I have found my own rhythm, and I am walking back into his world with the one man who can break him the way he broke me.

On what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, Irene Casareo’s wedding turned into her worst nightmare. Instead of walking down the aisle, her groom dragged her to the police station, accusing her of a crime she never committed. It was there she discovered his betrayal—he had conspired against her with his own stepsister. Consumed by rage and despair, Irene endured three agonizing years behind bars. Upon her release, freedom barely had time to settle in her lungs when she found herself caught in a bloody crossfire. That was when she met Kristoff Montecillo—a powerful man from the underworld, and the uncle of her ex-fiancé, Dave. He saved her from the armed men, but demanded a different kind of payment: he shook her world with a single, unexpected kiss. And when a lecherous old man tried to rob her of her innocence, it was Kristoff who shielded her once again. Now bound by a debt of gratitude, Irene faces an impossible choice: should she agree to become Kristoff’s fiancée in return for his repeated rescues, or should she say yes only to use him as a weapon in her quest for vengeance against those who shattered her life?

Drevan Valkor is the Darkmoon pack's Invincible Alpha. This makes him grow arrogant and believe himself to be untouchable. Even when he drags a knife across his own hand, the wound closes almost instantly. He laughs at me and says, "Kyra, you gasp for breath after walking just a few steps. What a pathetic, sickly burden." What he doesn't know is that a curse forces me to suffer every bit of pain he should be feeling. The only cure is for him to acknowledge me and complete the mate bond willingly. I endure three years of his pain, his cold shoulder treatment, and his constant entanglement with my "healthy and lively" stepsister. I tell myself that if I can survive until the mate bonding ceremony, I will finally be free. But that hope dies on the night of the ceremony. Before the entire pack, he pulls my stepsister, Belle Wynter, into his arms and kicks me off the altar. "I reject Kyra Wynter as my mate," he declares. "My pack doesn't need a weakling like her." That is the moment my conscience dies. If that's how it is, then he can't blame me for choosing the worst possible cure.

I used to believe silence meant peace. That if I endured long enough, stayed patient long enough, things would eventually fall into place. But the morning everything changed, I realized how wrong I had been. A room I had once asked for was suddenly cleared. Not for me. For someone else. For her. My husband didn’t hesitate when he said it. No explanation. No consideration. Just a decision that reminded me exactly where I stood in his life. I tried to ignore it. Told myself it wasn’t worth questioning. Until my birthday came. And went. No acknowledgment. No effort. Nothing. Just the quiet understanding that I no longer mattered. Then the truth found me. One moment was all it took to see everything clearly—the lies, the betrayal, the role I had been playing in a life that was never truly mine. So I signed the papers. I walked away from the marriage, from the name, from everything I had spent years holding together. I thought leaving would be the hardest part. I was wrong. Because walking away was only the beginning. And some endings don’t set you free— they pull you into something far more complicated.

Isla Bennett survives on poverty math and a meagre $14.22 bank balance until Gabriel Hunt, the ruthless, intelligent CEO known as The Debt Collector, acquires her $250,847.36 inheritance debt and forces her into a clinical, eighteen-month contract marriage. Told through an alternating first-person POV, this dark romance and financial thriller exposes the cold utility assessment behind a billionaire’s search for an asset chosen specifically for maximum compliance. In a world where finance is a weapon and boardrooms are battlefields, Isla is dragged into a thirty-year revenge plot against the Black Swan, a price-fixing syndicate that murdered her father in 1988. As Gabriel deploys mafia-style tactical teams and extraction protocols to protect his interests, Isla begins a weak-to-strong transformation. She evolves from a waitress who feels like breathing, walking furniture, into an interim CEO capable of executing the hostile absorption of forty-seven companies to dismantle her enemies. Behind the silk dresses and staged performances of a perfect couple lies a lethal game of medical hostage taking and manufactured stress tests designed to prove whether she is Option Zero, the only variable that will not break. From the glass towers of Manhattan to the remote Morrison Estate, the bought variable must choose between the $4.7 billion profit of a ghost and her own sovereignty.

My boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party. Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage. "Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table." The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl. After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful." The room exploded with laughter. I didn't say a word. I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me. They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on. I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them. I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'

"You’re our sister?" Three boys. Strangers. Yet their eyes hold the same truth. The truth that shatters Kaia’s world. Kaia has spent her life walking on eggshells, hiding bruises, swallowing pain, and surviving a home that never felt like home. But nothing prepares her for the day she’s called to the principal’s office and told her so-called parents are drug traffickers. Worse? They were never her real family. Overnight, Kaia is uprooted and dropped into a cold Canadian town where she's met at the door by three impossibly gorgeous boys… who claim to be her brothers. Thrown into a house of secrets, a school of strangers, and a world that whispers of wolves, Kaia finds herself caught between two rival packs and two infuriatingly magnetic boys whose wolves both claim her as their mate. But Kaia is no ordinary werewolf. She’s a Velen - an ancient, powerful rarity said to either unite or destroy. With the weight of a prophecy on her shoulders, a heart that still fears touch, and a bond that could start a war, Kaia must choose: run from who she is, or rise and rewrite the fate that was stolen from her. Two mates. Three brothers. One power. Zero time to break.

To get a divorce from Dante Conti, I volunteered to walk away with nothing—even our three-year-old son. Seeing that I had deliberately changed back into the old clothes I wore before marriage, Dante froze for a moment, then sneered, "So? You don't even want Nico, the heir you fought so hard to give birth to?" "Careful. Play your part too long, and you won't be able to recover the scene," he warned. I pushed the signed agreement toward him. "Don't worry. This isn't acting." Dante shot me a puzzled look before signing his name. "So obedient? Fine. I'll be magnanimous and let you see Nico from time to time." He set down the pen, his gaze appraising me. "And if you regret it… come to me now, and maybe—just maybe—we could remarry—" I cut him off, standing and walking away without a word. He had thought I married him for the Mafia's power, that's why I had given him an heir to inherit his family. But once he knows I'm dead, there will be no more misunderstandings.