Zero With Slash Through It Novels & Stories

Three months after my husband, Josiah Erikson, disappears in a skiing accident, I spot him in a bar. He's laughing freely with an arm slung casually around his "best friend", Monica Jones' shoulders. "Good thing you came up with the idea. I'd almost forgotten what freedom feels like." One after another, his buddies clink glasses with him and ask about when he plans to reappear. He looks down and thinks about it before saying, "In a week. I'll show up once she's gone completely crazy searching for me." Standing in the shadows, I watch him savor his freedom, then call my friend who works at the state vital records office.

My husband had a bizarre obsession with role-playing. In every scenario he invented, I was always the devoted wife he eventually cast aside. One day, he became the ruthless CEO who fell for the nanny; the next, he turned into a respected professor who could not resist his students. Each time he handed me a divorce agreement, watched me sign it through tears, and then tore the papers to shreds the following morning with a satisfied grin. "It's just a game, babe." That changed when my mom was in a catastrophic car accident and needed 200,000 dollars for emergency surgery. Deep in character as a penniless failure, he said, "I'm flat broke. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money for your mom?" I watched my mother take her last breath because we couldn't pay the bill. On the day of her funeral, he arrived with a pretty college student on his arm. "I've fallen in love with one of my students. It's time we get divorced." He pulled a folder from his briefcase and handed me the agreement. This time, I didn't wait for him to rip it up.

For eight years I was Ethan Black's right hand, his ride-or-die. Then I finally married him and became Mrs. Black. Three months into the marriage, I deliberately shredded one of his contemporary art pieces, a million dollars gone in a few clean strokes, all because his eyes had lingered a second too long on the new intern. Before Ethan could lose his temper, lines of text bloomed in the air in front of me, telling me I was nothing but the villainess in someone else's novel. [This woman's completely lost it. Does she really think Ethan married her out of love?] [He keeps his old buddy around as a human shield to protect his real love. Once she's served her purpose, he ships her off to a psych ward.] [Watch, the male lead's about to slap her.] I stared hard at the man coming through the door. But when Ethan reached me, he didn't even glance at the ruined canvas. He grabbed my hand instead, his voice almost pleading. "Babe, does it hurt? Did it feel good, ripping it up? If that wasn't enough, there's another hundred of them in the storage room."

Cent, short for Maleficent, recently found out that she is the daughter of the great demon Beelzebub when she got a pair of horns on her eighteenth birthday instead of a pair of skating shoes. She finally got her answer why she never once felt that she belonged, turns out, she is not entirely human. When her estranged dad came knocking to take her away from her wretched foster life, Cent grabs the opportunity to be with her only ‘living’ family. But, he is called the great demon for a reason. After disturbing her life, he drops her like a sack of potatoes in front of the gloomy gates of Transylvania Academy. She realized that before her great demon dad can accept her, she still needs to prove herself worthy. Does she have what it takes to carry the privilege as an only child of a great demon? Does she have what it takes to be a monster?

My mother-in-law has gotten kidnapped, and yet my husband, Josiah Broadway, decides to celebrate the success of his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Spencer's performance with her. The kidnapper has requested a ten-million-dollar ransom. If he doesn't receive the money in his bank account in an hour, he'll kill the hostage immediately. But my calls to Josiah's phone never go through. When there's only one minute left on the timer, Josiah calls me back calmly. "Since that hag is already that old, she might as well die. I'm not wasting my money on her." Just like that, my mother-in-law is thrown into the sea by the furious kidnapper. The search-and-rescue team has to resort to using long hooks in order to fish her corpse out of the sea. As soon as the body is delivered to the crematorium, Josiah sends me a voice message excitedly. "Have your mom's corpse sent to the studio! Vivian's performance needs a corpse anyway! Using a real corpse will make the whole performance seem more realistic!" I'm pissed off, to say the least. So, that bastard thinks that my mom is the one who died, huh? After that, I have my mother-in-law's corpse, which is completely disfigured from all the fishing and hooking, sent to the studio without any hesitation.

On the day I get back together with Leo Laycond, he uploads a photo of us on his social media account. I stare at the post for three long minutes until I notice a silver lock icon on the bottom right corner. It turns out that Leo has blocked Lisa Laycand, his younger adopted sister. That sister of his is always the person he cares about the most. I tell Leo calmly, "If you yearn for Lisa even more, I can always cancel the mating ceremony." Leo panics immediately. He deletes the restriction in front of the entire pack so that they can witness our reunion. Half an hour later, Lisa rushes into the training grounds in nothing but a thin dress. Then, she "collapses" in front of Leo. I watch as Leo scoops Lisa into his arms. It's an action that's very familiar to him, as though he's done it hundreds of times. Suddenly, I realize that the engagement with Leo bores me to no end.

My Alpha mother had a mark burned into my heart, a Submission Mark, all to guarantee I'd claim first place at the Ascension Trials. The mark was simple in its cruelty: whenever my heartbeat dipped below the intensity of combat training, it would scorch the flesh around my heart. No drifting off. No rest. Not even an extra breath during sparring. When I passed out from exhaustion, she'd pull out an iron whip soaked in silver solution and lash it across my hands. She called it "awakening the wolf's instincts." "You're a she-wolf. If you fail, you become the lowest thing in this pack and every male wolf will have the right to walk all over you." "Every drop of blood you shed is a stepping stone to the top." "Iron doesn't become a blade without fire. I've already begged the Moon Goddess for her blessing. Why can't you just push harder?" Today was the first round of the Ascension Trials on the pack's sacred calendar. I was the first contestant to break out of the underground arena, and instantly the pack's Record Keepers swarmed around me. My mother stood just outside the arena. Flush with pride, she triggered the Submission Mark and pushed my combat reflexes to the absolute limit of my wolf form. "Look at my daughter move, like she has Moon Goddess guidance. All thanks to my one-of-a-kind Branding Enhancement technique." But Mom... two days before the Trials started... Your mark, running at full power, burned my heart to nothing and stopped it cold. What more could you possibly want?

"Tell me one thing, Dominic," Cassandra said, fighting back tears. "After everything we've been through... was there ever a chance you would choose me?" The answer was written all over his face. On the day Cassandra Croft discovers she's pregnant, Alpha Dominic Woodford brings home the woman he once believed dead—his fated mate, Amelia Croft, and Cassandra's own sister. Faced with a choice between destiny and devotion, Dominic chooses destiny, leaving his pregnant wife with a shattered heart. Without a word, Cassandra disappears. Four years later, she has rebuilt her life as a talented doctor and a devoted mother to a little boy fighting a mysterious illness. But fate isn't finished with them yet. When Dominic accompanies a sick Amelia to the hospital, a familiar scent stops him in his tracks—the scent of his own pup. The mate he abandoned is finally within reach, but Cassandra is no longer the woman he left behind. And this time, winning her back may cost him everything.

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

My husband, Dante, the Consigliere of the Falcone family, and I hated each other more than any two people on earth. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because his heart had never been mine. We shared a bed for seven years, but the words we exchanged most were not of love, but of venomous curses. But on the night a rival family's motorcade stormed the estate, everything changed. I remember the firefight lighting up half the city. Dante threw himself in front of me, shielding me with his body. "Survive," he said, his voice as steady as ever. He drew his gun. As he turned to face them, a hailstorm of bullets erupted. As armor-piercing rounds tore through his vest and slammed into his body, he turned to look at me. It was the only time in seven years he had ever looked me in the eye. His large frame barred the doorway, stopping any gunman from crossing the threshold. "If there's a next life, promise me this, Principessa. Let me protect the one I was always meant to." That night, the glory of our family turned to ash, and the streets ran red with blood. As our enemies closed in, I triggered the explosives in the car. The flames consumed everything. When I opened my eyes again, I was walking into my father's study. "The family in Ashpoint needs a bride to seal a truce," I said, meeting the gaze of my father, the Don of the Falcone family. "I'll go." In my past life, he died believing he had failed my half-sister, Sofia. This time, I wouldn't let that regret haunt him. I would take Sofia's place and board the flight north. Let Sofia stay. Let Dante protect the woman he was meant to protect. But why, when he lifted the white veil of the woman he loved in this life, did he regret it?