Wendy Stan Novels & Stories

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."

In the fifth year of being married to Rick Duncan, I burned down our house. "Wendy Frost, don't think I'll forgive you so easily. I will never love you!" shouted Rick. I sat by the window and looked at him. "You'll regret this, Rick." The next second, a cloud of red mist appeared from the ground. I was left lying in a pool of blood. I suddenly opened my eyes... I was reborn. Three months later, Rick made a call late at night during the day of his wedding with Jennifer Frost. He was sobbing. "Mindy, I regret my decision."

"The bride is welcome to enter the altar!" I smiled calmly as I took my father's hand, walking towards the altar where a man was waiting for me. A man in a black tuxedo wrapped around his athletic body. There's nothing wrong with him, the only thing wrong is that he's wearing a mask! But I really don't care! As long as that man can help me save Wendy, my half-sister who I should hate but in reality I really love. Besides, I only need to be in this marriage for one year, yup, let me call myself the 'one year bride'!

By day, I was a maid in Chester Graham's household. By night, I was nothing more than a way for him to satisfy his desires. After one encounter, he dragged me from the bed, indifferent to my pain. "You don't have to come back," he said flatly. I collapsed to the floor in terror. "Did I do something wrong? Please don't send me away." The man who had murmured comforts to me only moments earlier now gazed down with icy detachment. "Wendy has agreed to marry me. "She's afraid of pain. You were nothing more than a tool for me to practice on. Once used, you're thrown away. "You've always been obedient. You know what you're supposed to do."

I booked a consultation with a renowned traditional medicine practitioner six months in advance to treat my surgeon wife's arousal disorder over the holidays. However, on the appointment date, Wendy did not show up. Just as I was about to call to question her, I noticed a photo her male friend had posted on social media. In the photo, my usually aloof wife was hugging the guy with a radiant smile. The caption read: [Only I can cure your problem.] But what caught my attention was my wife's flushed face in the photo, clearly displaying signs of arousal. With a cold smirk, I immediately liked and commented: [You must have magic fingers that work wonders!] The comment section exploded, with everyone speculating whether I would tear my wife's lover apart. What awaited my wife was our official divorce after the cooling-off period ended.

I was the daughter of the Azurez Sect’s leader and its next heir. Unfortunately, on the eve of my succession ceremony, an accident occurred while I was descending the mountain to eliminate vengeful spirits. At a critical moment, my powers spiraled out of control, and I succumbed to demonic backlash. The spirits wounded me, and in an instant, all my cultivation was destroyed. My fiancé, Julian Zackman, ventured alone into the spirits’ lair to save me. He battled them for three days and three nights before finally bringing me back. However, in doing so, he lost an arm and a thousand years’ worth of cultivation. From that day on, he could no longer wield a sword. I was consumed with guilt. I even convinced myself that I would leave everything behind and live in seclusion with him, living a simple life together. However, by chance, I overheard a conversation between him and my father. “I know what I did to Queenie was wrong, but she was too powerful. I had no choice but to slip some of the delusional powder into her sachet to make her go astray. I needed to make sure Wendy could become Sect Leader.” My father looked at Julian’s empty sleeve with regret. “I understand your intentions, but you didn’t have to sacrifice your arm. You are my most gifted disciple. Without it, how will you ever wield a sword again?” “Master, don’t worry. It was only an illusion to deceive her. Once Wendy takes over the sect, I’ll arrange a place for Queenie at the foot of the mountain. Without cultivation, she’s worth nothing to Azurez Sect. She might as well live down there, farming, raising chickens, and living as a peasant woman. At least she’ll have a stable life that way.” My heart sank. Everything he did had been a lie. It was all to force me to give up my place. If the world had turned its back on me, I would tear it down in return.

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

One year after getting cast out of the Blackrock pack, I bump into my ex-mate, Alpha Felix Barrington, in the Pack Alliance's headquarters. He's there because he wants to register the identity of his newborn pup. Coincidentally, I'm working at the lobby at that time, so I'm the one dealing with his matters for him. Throughout the process, Felix looks like he wants to talk to me, but something's holding him back. Before he leaves, he finally parts his lips. "Wendy, if you're having a hard time living on your own here, you can always return to the Blackrock pack. I'll convince Faith to let you back in." The sight of Felix's serious expression makes me laugh out loud. After all, he's the one who will be leading a difficult life from now on.

My wife, Wendy Sinclair, has a severe sleepwalking disorder. After she falls asleep, she always wanders out in a state of unconsciousness. The night before our wedding, she disappears without a word. I have no choice but to postpone our wedding. Only then does she walk out of her childhood friend's house next door, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Afraid I might overthink, she cries and apologizes to me. "There's no cure for my condition. From now on, just tie me up when I sleep, okay?" I feel sorry for her, so I just change the door lock to make sure she cannot go out. But in the middle of the night, I wake up and see her standing on the edge of the balcony. She climbs in through the window and goes into her childhood friend's house again. Soon, suggestive and intimate sounds come from inside. My blood runs cold. Her sleepwalking isn't an illness at all—it is out of love.

When the kidnapper fired the gun, I shielded Scott with my body. The bullet pierced my heart, and I was sent overseas to have my heart exchanged with an artificial one—one that ran on a battery. Because of this heart, Scott married me, and my friends congratulated me for finally having my wish granted, for finally marrying my childhood sweetheart. Later, when I laid there on the operating table with my chest cut open, he was kissing another woman under the moonlight. I didn't react to this in the slightest, recovering my heart in silence. Scott resented my numbness, grabbing my shoulders as he demanded, "Wendy, aren't you angry about this?" He didn't know the reason, and to be honest, it was quite simple. Why be angry when my heart was on the verge of giving out? Every passionate day he spent chasing after love… Was another tick in the countdown to the end of my life.