Wrongly Accused Book Novels & Stories

By tomorrow morning, I’ll be a headline, a meme, a scandal splashed across gossip sites. And for what? Because I trusted the wrong man. No. Not even the wrong man. The wrong brother. I stop under a streetlamp, chest heaving. My hand slides to my stomach, trembling as I press against the small swell that’s not showing yet but feels so heavy it could crush me. “You didn’t deserve this,” I whisper. My throat closes. “You didn’t ask to be born into this mess.” “Wait.” That voice. I whip around, and there he is. Damian Cole. Striding toward me like he owns the whole damn street, the city, the world. Even now, after everything, he looks composed. His tie loosened, his jacket open, but every step i

Then, he loosened them weakly and forced a smile. "I'm sorry, angel," he said. "You kept fiddling with your laptop that I was worried you would dump me after finding someone else. I didn't mean to invade your privacy. Don't be mad at me." I couldn't resist falling for his feigned innocence; I couldn't even be mad that he'd looked at my laptop without my permission. I was about to step forward to hold him when he spoke again, sounding aggrieved. "I'm also sad that you don't trust me, though. You would rather use yourself as bait than tell me about this so we could think of something together. Do you still think of me as a child, angel?"

She couldn't entrust the chairman's legacy to his family's merciless hands, their greed and apathy evident in the way they abandoned him all these years and show up just to claim his fortune. Her mind replayed the desperate attempts she'd made to prove Morris's innocence. But the truth remained that he was trying to cover up the real murderer. Morris's family were long gone from the country, probably the reward of taken the fall for the real culprit, his family gets to leave extravagantly in another country. The chairman knew perfectly why he gave it all to her, his death and the way things turned out made her realize why people with power and wealth find it hard to have people they trust wh

Victoria looked at them and said, "You are monsters. How could you do this to Victoria?" Once more, she's acting like she's a different person than Victoria. It really threw the two women off. "What could she have possibly done to make you resort to this?" Victoria inquired. Then, it hit her - Zoe. During her time as Vic, she never did anything wrong to Zoe. Yet that wicked woman falsely accused her of attempted murder and had her locked up. It seemed like bad people always found a way to justify their actions. "So, are we just supposed to sit back and let you expose our secrets?" Britney retorted.

Fiona swallowed, her hands shaking in fear “I…I….it was a mistake, the Alpha was drunk, he didn’t know what he was doing, I’m sorry —” “Were you also drunk?” He asked. She looked down at her trembling fingers and then to her feet, unable to answer the question. “I asked that, were you also drunk?” This time, the scary man asked sternly. “No.” She said. He scoffed “So you took advantage of a drunk man!” He exclaimed in pure disgust. Fiona shook her head “No, I am sorry, no one would know, I might consider aborting, or if I can’t I wouldn’t disturb him, no one would know.”

Jaime Barthes was the only son of the wealthiest family in Hartow City. Ever since he was a child, he could have anything he wanted. On his fifteenth birthday, he fell for Eden Hawthorn the moment he first saw her. Right then and there, he boldly declared, "She belongs to me, and nobody should ever think about touching her!" During the entire decade of their marriage, he was obsessively protective of her. She was forbidden from any kind of interaction with men, and she had to employ the help of her assistant for something as mundane as handing a report to a male colleague. Everyone assumed this was simply Jaime's love language. One day, he caught a terminal disease. The entire nation fr

He sighs heavily and continues to drive. I could go to sleep without worrying. Though I had nightmares here and there about what happened when I was captured, with Adrian by my side, I could overcome them. And, today, justice is going to be served. "Mr. Smith, you are accused of fraud, misinterpretation, two accounts of attempted murder, and two accounts of kidnapping. Do you have anything to say about this?" The judge asks Charlie. Before he could answer, his defender spoke. "Your honor, all the accusations that are made against my client are entirely false. Mr. Black is using his power and money to blame my client for everything that has happened in his life," he says and Adrian fists his

“The school makes the final decision regarding the scholarship. But if you’re confident in yourself… you can keep contesting for it.” Only then did I return to my seat. A famous lawyer once said that when it came to blackmail with private photos, there were only two results. If you could not prove it was me, you were guilty of libel. If you could prove it was me, you were guilty of spreading illicit photos. In my previous life, the constant malice and humiliation destabilized my psyche. Accusations like that were fatal to almost any woman. However, I never did any of those things, so why should I have to bear the brunt?

My hand shook violently, compromising my fine motor skills as I scrawled the urgent, frantic data. Ambush on highway. They know you are the decoy. Abort deployment. I folded the tiny slip of paper and jammed it deep inside the pages of the poetry book. I placed the book back onto the exact geometric center of my pillow, ensuring the front cover faced the hidden lens directly. "Process the visual data, Rocco," I whispered, staring directly into the empty corner of the ceiling. "Scan the book." The sudden, aggressive rattle of my bedroom door handle caused my entire body to jump, my heart leaping into my throat.

"You have no principles, no loyalty, no conscience. Just a price tag." Elena's face goes pale, then red. "And you're so much better? You, who married a man you hated? Who used him for three years? We both are the same, Charlotte. You're just as willing to use people to get what you want." "At least I used someone who deserved it!" My voice breaks slightly. "At least I'm not helping kidnappers and rapists walk free!" "He hasn't been convicted of anything yet..." "Because of people like you!" I'm shouting again. "Because defense attorneys like you are so good at twisting reality, at making victims question their own experiences, at convincing juries that monsters are just misunderstood."