Novels

I'm a patient woman, incredibly patient. My husband, Mark, has been living with his mistress, Tiffany, for two years, and I haven't made a single fuss. No calls, no drama, just quietly taking care of our kids and his parents at home. I gave my all to this marriage, and when it’s time to take back what's mine, I won't leave a single drop behind. Yesterday, my source informed me that Mark and Tiffany had a blowout – their eighth fight, I think. The time is ripe.

It was our seventh anniversary. A news story was trending – “Newly discovered star officially named ‘Amelia Flores’ this morning.” The top post under the trending topic was from my husband, Blake Hughes. “Your name, among the stars. You’ll never be alone, not even in the universe.” One of his former students commented below: “Thanks for sharing your private romance with the public, Blake! I’m so happy for you!” Unlike before, I didn’t frantically call him, demanding an explanation. Seven years of this… I was exhausted.

Ashley had been married to the man of her dreams, Ethan, for five years, but she always felt a chill in their relationship. She thought her love could thaw his icy demeanor, but she was wrong. In a bid to help her first love, and ex-boyfriend, Jason, a struggling journalist, she leaked Ethan's undercover assignment to him for a headline-grabbing story. Ashley's action had devastating consequences. Ethan, a narcotics officer deep undercover, was brutally murdered by the cartel he’d infiltrated. He was found stabbed multiple times and left in the street. The news of his death finally broke through Ashley’s

Every month, like clockwork, my wife, Sarah Miller, would go on a "business trip" during her ovulation period. We'd been married for years, but still no kids. I decided to surprise her one trip, flew out to her city, and saw her leaving a fertility clinic with Ethan Reed, a hotshot doctor who’d just returned from studying abroad. Turns out, those “business trips” were for artificial insemination – with Ethan’s sperm. When I confronted her, she was totally unapologetic. “I’m just borrowing his genes, honey. I want our child to have the best possible start. Does the biological connection really matter?

The night Mom rushed me to the ER with a high fever, she was assaulted by a homeless man. Later, she drowned herself in the river. Dad and my brother, Josh, blamed me. They forced me to go to the riverbank every day and beg for forgiveness. That’s where I was targeted again. Another group of homeless men attacked me for hours, then dragged me into the mountains. Desperate, I found a chance to call Josh before my phone died. But all he said was, "You’re faking it. Even if you were kidnapped, you deserve it! You should have been the

During the divorce, my ex-wife, Lisa, fought me for custody of our son, Ethan. “Why don’t we ask him what he wants?” she said confidently. Ethan, eyes glued to his phone, glanced at me. “You serious about this divorce, Dad?” “Yeah,” I nodded. “Okay, then.” He went back to his game. “I’ll stay with Dad. Give him more of the assets, though. I don’t want him starving.” Ethan was dragged into the study by Lisa. I tried to follow, but the door slammed in my face. Lisa’s raised voice echoed through the door. “Ethan, I’m asking you again, you really want to stay with

On the day we were supposed to get married, Sarah stood me up again, claiming she was too busy. When I got home, I found a wedding certificate – hers, with her assistant, Ben. The date was today. I laughed, placed the certificate on my desk, and texted Sarah that we were done. Her call came instantly. “David! What the hell are you playing at? Grow up!” Before I could respond, I heard Ben’s whiny voice in the background. “Sarah, I think David misunderstood. You should come home. I’ll be fine.” “Don’t worry about him,” Sarah cooed. “He’s always pulling this dramatic crap.

After years of deep love, my girlfriend lost her memory, and I was the only one she forgot. No matter how hard I tried, she couldn't recall our shared past, even treating me like a lunatic. Then, I overheard a phone call between her and her best friend, and everything became clear. "Memory loss, my foot! I just want some excitement, to see him squirm while I'm getting cozy with another guy." My heart went numb. I broke up with her. And then, I scheduled brain surgery that carried the risk of amnesia.

Three years after my death, my wife was still accompanied by the lifelike android I’d meticulously designed. It looked exactly like me, mimicking my every mannerism, every habit. But it never got angry with her. So, my wife, oblivious, brought home a different man every night, trying to provoke a reaction, hoping to see me consumed by jealousy. Until one day, her childhood sweetheart pushed “me” off the balcony. That’s when she realized “I” didn’t bleed. 1. A loud crash echoed through the villa. “I” lay sprawled on the lawn, a few parts detached. The culprit, Cui Ye, leaned over the railing, feigning concern.