Zodiac House Novels & Stories

I woke in the middle of the night to my Don husband murmuring in his sleep. “Juno, be good. Tomorrow I’ll buy you and Mamma a new house.” My eyes flew open. Juno? That was the name I’d always planned for a purebred Ceylon cat I dreamed of owning, but I’d never gotten one because of my pet fur allergy. And a new house? Could this just be a coincidence? I shook him lightly. “What did you just say?” He frowned and mumbled coarsely, “Had a nightmare. Dreamt of a shootout.” I didn’t press further. In the darkness, I reached for his phone and silently opened his messages.

"Sign it." Rachel picked it up and glanced at it. It was a divorce paper. It stated that she had to vacate the house without any belongings and return everything she had taken from the Brown family. This included shares, businesses, properties gifted by the Brown family, and any cash received from them. Rachel's face drained of color. "Why?" She asked, her voice shaking. Lucas replied indifferently, "If you don’t sign, in five days, I’ll make your family wish they were never born. You have these five days for your family to move out." Her body shook with fear. Is he really serious?

Everywhere in the house smelled like him. There were some things she couldn’t forget, like the way he touched her, the way he kissed, and each time they made love… Fuck. Even the thought of it made her panties go wet. “…I want you to fuck me like you mean it, Ocean.” She whispered in his ear, her legs straddling his waist. As long as it was Eris, he would keep coming to her. He was everything she wanted to run away from, and she was everything that he wanted. But Ocean knew from the very moment he saw her, their relationship as step-siblings would be ill-fated.

My father raised me on one principle: fair exchange. If I wanted anything, I had to earn it myself. Fifty cents for washing the dishes. A dollar for mopping the floor. Five dollars for a perfect score on a test. To buy the pair of white sneakers I had been dreaming of, I spent three months collecting recyclables. In that house, I lived like a pieceworker, paid by the task. It was not until my senior year of high school that everything began to crack. I collapsed during morning study, my body worn down by years of malnutrition. The doctor said I needed better nutrition. My father stood by my hospital bed and started doing the math. "Three hundred for the hospital stay. Two hundred for medication. Chester, this all goes on your tab for the future." I turned my head and saw a boy in a school uniform in the next bed. His father was feeding him spoonfuls of chicken soup, his eyes red with worry. In that moment, the world I had known for 18 years fell apart. It turned out not every child had to earn their parents' love. After I was discharged, I went home and saw the pair of designer sneakers on my brother's feet; it was worth thousands. That was when I finally woke up. I tore up the family photo and, without hesitation, applied to the college farthest from home. Ten years later, my father called me in tears. My brother had taken all his retirement savings, sold the house, and run off with his girlfriend. He was left with nothing. No home. No one. I smiled and tossed him a rag. "Want a place to stay? Sure. It's 50 cents per window. Earn your own rent."

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

My son just had surgery. I'm sitting by his bedside in the hospital when I come across a post online. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?" One anonymous comment stands out. "I used the upperclassman who funded me as a stepping stone. My sponsor was rich but clueless. After she paid for my entire college, I slept with her husband and got pregnant. "The craziest part? My son and her son were born on the same day, but my husband swapped the babies. Now, she treats my son like he's her whole world, working day and night to give him a better life. "But her own son lives with me, wearing hand-me-downs and eating leftovers. Today, my son had surgery. I was worried sick, so I slapped her son hard a few times. "Oh, and her family just got a three-million-dollar payout for relocation. My husband is going to the hospital later. He's going to use the excuse of buying a house near the schools to get the money. "Once we have the money, I'm buying a villa. Then I'll get my son back and kick her out!" The post includes a blurry photo of a boy begging on his knees. My breath catches because the charm on his wrist is the same lucky charm I gave my son the day he was born. Just then, my husband pushes open the door to the ward and walks in. "Honey, Sean's starting elementary school soon. Let's use that relocation money your mom received to buy a house near the schools."

As I was about to leave The Crimson Curtain, my brother Corvus's elite vampire club, a woman who claimed to be the manager stopped me. "Ma'am, you just helped yourself to a priceless vial of Elder's Blood. You have to pay." I looked at the unfamiliar face, sensing the weak blood of a lesser vampire. She must be a fledgling, I thought, new to the club and unaware of who I was. "Your boss approved it," I said flatly. "Take it up with him." But the woman just sneered at me. "Plenty of women try to get close to our boss. If every one of you took what you wanted, how would we stay in business?" She shoved a copy of the club rules at me. Anyone who takes Elder's Blood without permission pays with three times the amount in heart's blood. Or they don't leave. Vampire guards started to close in, some even drawing silver blades, ready to take me down. I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. I couldn't believe Corvus's club had such an insane rule. "I am the Lord of House Volkov. Corvus's own sister. If he needs compensation, he can come to me himself." But her mockery only sharpened. "You look like some low-born stray. Claiming ties to a noble house? Pathetic. Hand over the heart's blood. Now." My patience snapped. I sent a message to the family elders through our bloodline. "Tell Corvus to either make this woman disappear forever, or I'm taking back ownership of this club. All of it."

From birth, I was rumored to be a witch who possesses an unknown power. And on getting to the world, I could tell you the exact time my life began to fall apart!. Luck in which I was told to have, ran out on me immediately, and life showed me nothing but how cruel it could be to me. Becoming a slave in your parent's house is not what you could pray for or even wish your enemy. Why it is so is still unraveled. "Come back here, Lucia!"My mother shouted, trudging after me as I ran far into the woods in escape. Fear filled my heart and I pray earnestly it won't kill me before the real death chasing me right now would come. "Run away, run away!"that was what my wolf kept chanting as it stirred unhappily inside of me. And I noted it to myself the dire need to escape from this death. It remains two more steps; just two more for me to cross the border to a new pack when I hit my legs on an unforseen stone that stood as a hinderance on the way.And before I knew it, I was in the air and almost reaching the floor. And when I finally did, it was with a thud!. "Arrgh....."I cussed out in groans and before I could attempt to move from the ground and take to my heels, she appeared- right before me. Then with blood-shot eyes,"Have always knew you aren't meant to be my daughter, Get up now, run into that house and pick out my favourite whip.....Lay on the bed unclad and wait just a second for me, for your usual punishment!"she ordered viciously. And at once; I knew I was a dead meat.

There was a time when the famous young actor Andrew Cortez dominated the movie screens, commercials and model runways in the Philippines. He was in his peak of career, enjoying the free life and fooling around uptown girls. When all he thought he'll be playing around rich girls then he met Pia Drew Barcenilla, an heiress like the ones Andrew dated. However, Pia Drew, unlike all the other rich girls who were demure and soft-spoken, was blunt and emotionless. Pia Drew's cold treatment towards Andrew landed her the job she definitely hated. As they finally got along, Andrew and Pia Drew fell in love but their romance did not sail even with power and money. After Pia Drew's short exposure to the limelight, they both went back to their own separate lives. Years later, fate brought them back together. Pia Drew sketched Andrew's dream house and soon they started building it together. They were in love and living in the moment when they met an accident. Pia Drew laid in coma and Andrew has to live his life alone, unsure of tomorrow. Five years later, Pia Drew woke up and remembered nothing. It was then that Andrew realized money and power don't stop anyone from suffering. Now, Andrew stood in front of his unfinished house he had been building for the last five years. He found it hard to decide on how he would continue building it when the one he had built it for and with for years couldn't even remember they were building it together after all. Andrew has to spend his lifetime understanding the fact that Pia Drew's memory is never coming back.

Clouderton, Carmoria. Three days after we got our marriage certificate, Jason casually dropped that he'd handed the keys to our new place... to his ex, Nina Zeller. I clenched my jaw. "So you just HAD to give our house key to your poor, delicate ex?" He sighed. "She needed surgery. It was urgent. I'll get it back after." I stared at him. That blank, serious face? I actually laughed. I own a ton of properties. Even my managers have to book time to get in. But Jason? First guy with the nerve to sneak his ex into my home.