Woah He's Bisexual I Didn't Know That Novels & Stories

My colleague, Nora Lewis, suddenly leaned over at the company annual dinner. “You managed to land such a tough project with Sanscape Group. Tell me, how many people did you sleep with to pull that off? “I’ve heard for ages that you’ve got a great body and that you’re quite the player. You really live up to the rumors!” Right after, she pretended to have misspoken and quickly covered her mouth. The dinner table, which had been bustling just moments ago, fell silent. Everyone exchanged meaningful glances before pricking up their ears in perfect unison. Then, they lowered their heads to play with their phones. I looked at her calmly and asked in return, “Does closing a business deal require sleeping with someone? I’ve been working for so long, and I never knew that. You must be quite the expert, Ms. Lewis?” Also, how come I’ve never heard that my dad’s company requires sleeping with someone to secure a project?

In my past life, my mate, Rowan, left me and our newborn daughter in a remote village to fight for the Alpha title. Before he left, he promised me, "When I become Alpha, you will be my Luna. I'll make you the most respected wolf in the pack." I waited for three years, my daughter and I scraping by, often going hungry and cold. But I didn't learn the truth until I secretly traveled to the Blackstone Pack to find him, only to be beaten and cast out as a rogue. It turned out he had already accepted the former Alpha's terms: he would take his late brother's widow, Isabelle, and her children as his own, and in return, become the new Alpha. Furious, I tried to confront Rowan, but Isabelle poisoned me with wolfsbane. As I lay dying, I saw Rowan hold Isabelle gently and say, "Good. She's dead. Even if she had lived, you were always going to be my Luna." When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the very day Rowan was to inherit the Alpha title. This time, I took my daughter and went straight to my father, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack. "Father," I cried, "I was wrong. I want to sever my mate bond with him!"

I was three months pregnant when our enemies ambushed me on a private drive in Manhattan’s East Side. A bullet punched through the window. Glass buried itself in my shoulder. With the last bit of strength I had, I hit the Moretti family’s encrypted distress signal and called my husband, Adrian Moretti, for help. He didn’t come. Later, I found out he had pulled the Moretti family’s best trauma surgeon and security detail away that night to stay with his old flame, Evelyn Langdon. She had just lost her husband. She was carrying his child. She said a nightmare had left her gasping for air. I lost our baby in the emergency room. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Evelyn’s new post. [Some people don’t need to ask. He’ll still drop everything and come running. Thank you, A. You always know what I need most.] In the photo, Adrian was kneeling by her bed, fastening the ruby necklace around her throat. The same necklace he had promised me for our tenth anniversary. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I called Professor Clark. “Professor, I’ll take the classified seat at the Artemis Northern Institute. Start the Black Ice Protocol. Wipe my public identity as soon as possible.”

Robert Schmidt's company is on the verge of bankruptcy. He decides to get a divorce from me in order to not drag me down. I refuse to divorce him. Since then, I work during daytime and take on part-time jobs at night just so I can help Robert tide over the financial crisis. Heck, I even work eight jobs per day. But when I head over to Robert's company to seek him out with the money that I've painstakingly gathered, I accidentally overhear his conversation with his assistant, Ellie Gordon. "Robert, when are you going to divorce that hag? I can't wait any longer!" "I didn't know she'd be this hard to shake off! I already lied to her about my bankruptcy, and yet she still refused to divorce me!" Only then do I find out that Robert isn't bankrupt at all. He's just pretending to be bankrupt so that he can divorce me and give Ellie a proper title by his side. I end up dying from an aneurysm that gets triggered from my overwhelming fury. After my death, Robert has the gall to use the money I've worked so hard in earning on buying Ellie jewelry and a house. Later on, they have a whirlwind marriage and live happily ever after. As for me, I don't even get laid to rest in a proper graveyard. My corpse is left rotting somewhere unknown. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Robert pretends to be bankrupt. This time, I sign the divorce agreement without hesitation. On top of that, I also apply for a patent before reporting Robert's company for infringing my copyright on the products. Since he likes pretending to be bankrupt that much, I might as well make his wish come true!

When I arrived, I saw my husband sitting at a table with Nalani by his side. Was this supposed to be a meeting? Was he seriously introducing me to his mistress? I sat down quietly, my heart heavy. “Eden,” Liam began, his voice calm. “I hope you know why we’re here.” Nalani cut him off with a sharp tone. “Oh, just tell her already.” She looked straight at me, her words cold and deliberate. “I’m carrying Liam’s child, and we’re getting married as soon as possible.” The words hit me hard, but I refused to show how much it hurt. I glanced at Liam, hoping for some sign of remorse, but he just stared at the table. I stood slowly, clutching my purse. “You win,” I said softly. “I’ll sign the papers.”

Ever since I tied the knot with Connor Steele, he ditched his playboy ways and cut off all his side flings. Everyone thought I had him wrapped around my finger, with our perfect little family. But that all came crashing down on our ninth anniversary when I accidentally saw his group chat with his friends. [Connor, how was that Bentley ride with Ashley yesterday? Pretty wild, huh?] [We tried every spot imaginable. She's totally obsessed with me and can't get enough.] There was a steamy photo of them attached, and the group was blowing up with cheers and congrats, wishing them happiness ever after. I stared at the screen, feeling a sharp stab of pain hit me right in the chest. It turned out that all our happy moments were just a carefully staged performance. I sat there in a daze all night, waiting for him to get home. When he finally walked in with a cake, I let out a cold laugh. "I know everything now. Aren't you sick of faking it?"

Before the wedding, Alpha Kevin’s first love, Sandra Barlow, was betrothed to none other than David Wright—the most infamous rogue Alpha along the Mississippi River. A wolf so ruthless, even the werewolf Council preferred to pretend he didn’t exist. Alpha Kevin, ever the noble hero, couldn't bear to see his precious white moonlight thrown into the fire pit. So, what did he do? With the werewolf army of the Midnight Ridge Pack, he stormed into the rogue den and snatched her away from Alpha David. That very night, they registered their marriage and held a wedding. And me? Oh, the entire Midnight Ridge Pack was practically at the thought of watching Gamma Diana Gilbert—the strongest female warrior in the pack—get humiliated. After all, my years of loyalty, my unmatched skills, my blood spilled for this pack? Worthless. Why? Because their beloved Alpha had chosen another. I braced myself for the whispers, the pitying glances. But then— The very next day, Alpha David, the same rogue who’d been so cruelly robbed of his mate, climbed onto my villa’s security wall like a damn cat burglar. He perched there, arms crossed, watching me with an infuriatingly lazy smirk. “Wife pays for her husband’s debt,” he drawled, his voice carrying the rough edge of a wolf who lived lawless and free. “Alpha Kevin stole my mate. So I figured—you should compensate me by becoming my rogue Luna.” He grinned, canines flashing. “ That’s fair, isn’t it?” I nodded. “Fair.”

After my older sister, Beatrice Hartwell, has passed away, my brother-in-law, Theodore Wesley, transfers me into his department. At first, I think he's merely watching out for me. But whenever Theodore bumps into someone else, he often leaves his sentences hanging. "After my wife has passed away, it's all thanks to Megan keeping me company all the time that I…" His words are often half-minced and filled with euphemisms. Because of him, the company is filled with rumors of me killing Beatrice just to take over her position at one point. I plead to Theodore to make things clear for everyone in the future. But during a Monday meeting, Theodore continues to mourn Beatrice longingly while bringing me up in a roundabout way. "The reason why Megan is late is that she spent the night in my house last night… Ah, I shouldn't have brought this up. Please don't overthink this, everyone." The thing is, Theodore is the one who wants me to edit the business proposal at his place. My boyfriend is with us the whole time! My colleagues all shoot me knowing glances immediately. They start muttering about "seeing the sister-in-law plot being manifested in real life". I try to explain myself, and yet Theodore keeps mucking things up for me. "Right! She was just editing the proposal in my bedroom—wait, no! It took place in the study! It's my fault for not knowing how to talk properly! The more I explain, the more chaotic things become!" I'm enraged, to say the least. Theodore doesn't know how to speak, right? Then he's better off silent for the rest of his life!

My fated mate, Alpha Cullen, fell for the lies of his first love, Donna, and planned to kill me. But in a twist of fate, we were ambushed by rogues and died together. But with his last breath, he whispered another woman's name: Donna. In that moment, I knew the truth—it had always been her, his real love. When the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance, I was reborn on the day I first met him. One look at the hatred in his eyes, and I knew: he had been reborn, too. So before he could speak, I rejected him in front of the entire pack. Years later, when we met again, he sneered that I was nothing more than a pathetic rogue who tinkered with flowers. But he didn't know I had found a new mate: Orton, the Alpha of Alphas. It wasn't until our son ran to me, wrapping his little arms around my leg and crying, "Mommy!" that Cullen's façade finally shattered. He grabbed my arm, his voice cracking as he begged, "This can't be happening! I'm your fated mate! You still love me… right, Juliet?"

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.