What Could Possibly Go Wrong Novels & Stories

I thought I was the Conti family's "legitimate wife." Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Christian, resting his hand on my stepsister Emma's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future. Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir." Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy. I didn't cry and didn't make a scene. I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment. Twenty-four hours later, Christian's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized— That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife. He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family. But what I really wanted to know was— When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

My husband, Adrian Cross, was a high-profile lawyer. We'd been married for seven years. I'd always wanted a child of our own, but he had never touched me because his heart belonged to someone else. Not long ago, I got into a car accident trying to save him. He promised he would grant me any wish. Everyone assumed I would ask him to have a child with me, but I calmly asked for a divorce. Adrian laughed, a cruel, public sneer on his face. "Don't pretend," he mocked. "I've never met anyone as shameless as you. You'd risk your life for me, yet you think you could ever leave me?" My heart, long hardened, turned even colder. He had no idea that I had been given a second chance. … In my previous life, I finally became pregnant with his child. But his obsession, the one he couldn't forget, took her own life. All his rage fell on me. On the day I went into labor, he locked me in the basement and forced me to swallow a massive dose of abortion drugs. As blood gushed from me, he laughed like a madman. "Ella died because of you and that wretched child you're carrying. For the pain she endured, you will pay twice over!" I died from hemorrhaging. And he went on to hold a wedding at the grave of his lost love. But reborn, I returned to the day of the car accident, ready to see their doomed love come to its bitter end.

Liora Lythorne had lived in hiding far from the ruins of her fallen pack and the secrets buried with it. Her wolf never came. Her past erased, forgotten and her heart bound to a mate who barely saw her. Aldric Vayne —uncaring, cold and ruthless— once saved her life. But fate chose them anyway. Their bond had grown bitter, and when a public betrayal transpired, Aldric rejected her in front of the entire pack. Broken and humiliated, Liora found herself drawn into the arms of another—someone unexpected and dangerous. But knew what Liora doesn't. As the truth about her was unveiled. Enemies closed in. But Liora was forced to choose between the mate who destroyed her and the man who helped her in her broken time.

Alpha Luna Seraphina Moondance, the last of the Moondancers and the alpha of the richest pack, thought her wedding to the love of her life, marked the start of a powerful union. Instead, it became her execution. Her husband, Raze Duskbane, the man she trusted with her life, plotted her downfall. Left for dead, Seraphina awakens only to be stripped of her powers and trapped under a false name. As she pursues to get her past life back and reclaim her home, she gets entangled with the most feared Alpha. An alpha who is willing to punish her aggressors.

“You are not going to disrespect me! She is a commoner, and I’d rather die than let you be with her!” Isaac’s father was very loud and his tone was threatening. “Then you better drop dead right now, because I’m sick of being caged by the standards and rules that this family has set for me! I’m sick of being a robot built for the sole purpose of being the heir to the Ford fortune!” Isaac spat the words in his father’s face.

I was nineteen the first time Cole Whitfield broke me. Not with cruelty. With a single word. Why. Not did you — why. Like the answer was already settled and he just wanted the story to make sense. I told him the truth anyway. He said nothing that mattered. So I picked up my bag, walked out of his apartment, and decided that a man who trusted a rumor over two years of me wasn’t worth a correction. I spent the next two years becoming someone I actually liked. New city. Graduate program. A published paper with my name on it. I was done with Cole Whitfield in every way a person can be done. Then I walked into Seminar Room 114 and he was sitting right there, gray eyes already on the door, like some part of him knew. I sat down. I opened my notebook. I did not look up. Here’s the thing about studying how people form beliefs: you understand exactly why he believed it. That doesn’t mean you forgive it. That doesn’t mean two years of silence disappear because he’s learned how to look at you like he’s sorry. He wants a conversation. I want my degree. But the campus is small, the seminar table is round, and the boy who broke my heart at nineteen is doing everything right at twenty-one — and I’m starting to understand that composed isn’t the same thing as healed. I hate that I still know the exact sound of his voice.

After experiencing the betrayal of her fiancé with her best friend, Ashley's innocence was taken by a mysterious man. As a royal blood witch, she never expected to be involved with a werewolf, let alone he seemed to be an Alpha. Releasing her uncontrolled power and erasing her every trace, she left home with a broken heart. Five years later, she returned home with a baby. Happy and successful. Then, she met that mysterious man again. And he claimed that she belonged to him!

When Aviannah woke up from an accident, she chose to pretend that she remembered nothing so she could stay with the young man who first made her heart beat. She was determined to introduce him to her father as the man she wished to marry someday. But what if she discovers something in the end? Would she still be fearless if the man she loves turns out to be her brother?

To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.

My ex-fiancé made me do a blood test the night before our wedding. The next day, he threw the genetic report on my face and dumped me over defective genes. The reason was that the Zimmer family only wanted perfect heirs, and he said that I was not worthy. He broke off the engagement, and instantly married the girl-next-door with perfect genes. Five years later, he reappeared in the hospital, clutching his ill son. He saw my daughter who had similar rashes, and he thought I had given birth to his daughter in secrecy. Little did he know that my daughter had nothing to do with him and only had a mild seafood allergy. I would not be defined by the so-called defective genes again, while me and my daughter live happily and healthily, it was their turn to be destroyed.