Account Library の小説・ストーリー

My wife had such a compassionate heart that she brought the young homeless man outside our apartment home for dinner, then demanded I give up my room so he could stay there. She spent the entire down payment I had saved on designer clothes for him and took him to five-star restaurants. She said she was only helping him and told me not to be so petty. Then, I got sick and ended up in the hospital. I called my wife and asked her to use the emergency funds in our bank account to pay for my surgery. She agreed right away. Despite that, I waited an entire day and missed the surgery, and the doctor told me I had only one month left to live. She never brought the money. Instead, I saw the photos she had posted on social media during her travels. My wife leaned against the homeless man in front of a famous landmark, smiling like she had everything she wanted. The caption read, "Wyatt said he's never been to any famous landmarks, so even if I have to spend every last cent, I'm going to take him around the world so he won't have any regrets. Also, someone was so afraid I'd spend money on Wyatt that he lied about being sick. He has no compassion at all!" Only then did I realize her so-called sympathy was just an excuse for falling for someone else. In that case, I did not want her anymore.

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

Annie Saint-Claire is a woman with an active memory. She daily has to fight constant memories about her husband, Aaron Casey, whom she had lost three years ago. As a widow she has to fight for survival. She is in desperate need of an income. Billionaire Aaron Casey wakes nightly from erotic dreams about a woman whose face keeps eluding him. His frustration and questions about what happened to him makes him a serious man with anger issues and no answers as to why his body has scars. Aaron’s safe place is his office. He trusts no one. He randomly hired a personal assistant unbeknown to him his wife. Annie in her haste to attend an interview has an explosive encounter with her husband, the very man she thought she had lost. He was angry and alive, quick enough to catch her before she collided with the ground. Aaron found himself instantly annoyed yet intrigued with Annie who he impulsively kissed where they stood in a thunderstorm. Annie’s mind and body screaming for answers. Passion and a past have both spiraling out of control. Annie now has the explosive knowledge her husband was alive but completely unaware who she was. One shock look into his eyes…memories flashing through her mind in picture perfect clarity, her heart screaming for completion, demanding she open her broken heart and start rewriting her own heartbeat. Once by all account a forgotten past, now forcing her to reclaim what’s rightfully hers…you are mine: I am yours…

On the first day of work, my boss, Wayne Richmond, gives everyone a nice bonus to start the year. Some receive 100 dollars, while others receive 200 dollars. When it's my turn, all I get is a piece of A4 paper. The rent, the management fee, and the utility bills, all from last year, are printed on the paper. At the end, I see Wayne's bank account number listed there. Wayne just looks at me haughtily as he says, "Meredith, you took the liberty to take on overtime shifts that last for more than a thousand hours last year. But despite the long hours, you didn't really bring much profit to the table. "That's why you should be the one paying for the property fees and the utility bills, seeing as you've wasted so much resources. This shouldn't be an outrageous request, right?" When I try to argue with Wayne, he just waves a hand at me impatiently. "I'm already charging you the lowest rate. Hurry up and pay the bills. Don't delay the work hours for everyone." As I stare at the piece of paper, I just smile instead of lashing out at Wayne. Everyone in the company doesn't know that I'm actually the owner of the building this company is based in. That means Wayne is giving me, the owner, the bill that he's supposed to be paying. In that case, I shall be retrieving every single cent that I've spent on this company. I won't be playing nice anymore.

During our New Year’s Eve dinner, I told my family that my company was not giving out year-end bonuses. The table went silent. Even the TV host counting down to midnight suddenly sounded grating. My husband and daughter slammed the table in frustration. “No year-end bonus?! How are we supposed to pay the mortgage and the car loan? I didn’t marry you so you could live off me!” “Other moms either buy designer bags or send money. You’re the most useless one. You can’t even bring home a $100,000 bonus.” My in-laws sat there with dark looks on their faces and said nothing. I looked at their self-righteous faces and felt a lump in my throat. All these years, every expense in this family was paid with the money I earned from late nights, overtime, and project commissions. But all they could see was the $100,000 bonus I did not bring home. “If you can’t make any money, then get out!” My husband grabbed my arm and pushed me toward the door. My daughter was not satisfied and kicked me on the lower back. I did not turn around. I took out my phone and booked the presidential suite at a downtown five-star hotel. My bank account had just received a $1 million dividend payout. It was true that I did not get a year-end bonus. But I got promoted to management. From this day onward, I would receive $1 million in dividends every year.

On our wedding night, my wife led my younger brother onto our marital bed. He was wearing nothing but his underwear. She expected him to consummate our marriage in my place. "Sweetheart, I feel awful about your legs and what the doctors said about your infertility," she said softly. "Elliot will just have to help us for one night." My face hardened as I stepped forward. I was ready to throw Elliot Charlton out of the bedroom. However, my parents immediately sided against me. "You're the one who can't fulfill your role as a husband," they said sharply. "Elliot is willing to sacrifice himself so that you can have a child. What's wrong with that?" Even my brother laughed at me. He said I was not a real man and told me to accept things while I still could. According to him, I should be thankful to gain a son without doing anything. They even suggested that I stay and watch, claiming it would prove the two were only trying to conceive a child and nothing else. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, then turned and called my wife's greatest rival. "You win," I said quietly. "The Wallace family's investment will be transferred to your account tomorrow." After ending the call, I raised my eyes and looked at Janet Wallace. "You share his bed tonight," I said. "Tomorrow, we get divorced."

“Please sweetheart, I’m sorry for how I treated you, you know this has always been my dream job. I can’t lose it please, I’ll do anything you want please sweetheart”, came Cooper’s disgusting voice. The audacity of this man, he even had the guts to call me sweetheart, the name he had stopped calling me during our marriage. “Don’t you ever call me again in your pathetic little life and from now on, refrain from calling me inappropriate names, I am your boss’s wife. The next time you disturb my peace or call me inappropriately, you’ll be hauled off to jail”, I replied coldly and hung up. After Mila catches her husband, Cooper having sex with his “shortcut to a better life” in their matrimonial bed, he divorces her then throws her out in the middle of the night. Mila is shocked to discover Cooper also cleared their joint account leaving her penniless. Mila thought her life was over but she is swept off her feet by Ryan Anderson, the richest billionaire in New York, one who happens to be Cooper’s boss and maybe something more. Now Mila can make those that hurt her pay. Mila is finally happy but like they say good things don’t last forever. Will she be able to save herself and her family when danger starts lurking? Will she finally get her happy ever after?

There's an unspoken rule in the high-end society—married couples who are bound by marriage alliances are allowed to branch out romantically. But if they ever buy anything for their side piece, they must buy the same gift for their legal spouse. Raymond Johnson is a very particular person. That's why he continues sticking to the rule and gives Melanie Strickland the respect she deserves by showering her with gifts that are 100 times more than his mistress', even after the Stricklands have gone into bankruptcy. If his mistress gets 100 thousand dollars' worth of allowances every month, Melanie's bank account must receive ten million dollars in return. When Raymond gifts his mistress jewelry that's worth a million dollars, he'll go for the main highlight of the auction. After that, Melanie will receive an antique emerald ring worth 100 million dollars. The rich wives, who are too used to seeing wealthy men immersing themselves in booze and beautiful women, can only sigh wistfully whenever they witness Raymond and Melanie's lovey-dovey relationship. But at the same time, they can't resist dropping Melanie words of advice—mainly to tell her to appreciate what she has now. Appreciate, huh? Of course Melanie appreciates everything she has right now. That's why on the day Raymond gives a house of very little value that's located in the suburbs to his mistress, Melanie decides to ask him a question while receiving the land deed of Villa No. 1 that's located in Northshore. "I've grown tired of this marriage. Can we get a divorce?"

Welcome to Blackwood University, where the tuition costs a fortune, but the secrets cost your life. I thought a scholarship to the country’s most elite university was my ticket out of the shadows. I was wrong. I didn’t just walk into a school; I walked into a lion’s den. And sitting on the throne is Niccolò De Luca. Nico is beautiful, brilliant, and brutal. He is the heir to the most powerful crime syndicate on the East Coast, and he runs this campus like his personal kingdom. He breaks hearts, he breaks bones, and now, he’s decided to break me. Not because I’m the scholarship case. But because he knows who I really am. I am the daughter of the man who stole millions from the De Luca family and vanished. Nico intends to use me to lure my father out of hiding. His plan is simple: torment me until I break, make my life a living hell, and keep me under his thumb until the debt is paid in blood. But the line between hate and obsession is razor-thin. When his torment turns into possessiveness, and his taunts turn into touches I can’t refuse, the game changes. I was supposed to be his pawn, but I’m becoming his weakness. Now, with a rival family closing in on campus and my father’s enemies circling, Nico has to make a choice: Hand me over to settle the score... or burn the world down to keep me. "You think you can hide from me in the library, little mouse?" Nico whispered, his breath hot against the shell of my ear as he pinned me against the stacks. "You are living on borrowed time. And unfortunately for you, I’m the one collecting the interest."

Amanda Light, I am a normal girl, but the thing is, I don't live in a normal town. I don't go to a normal high school; I go to a high school of werewolves because, you guessed it, I'm human. Also, I get bullied by the Stone Rock Fab 4. They call me humi, plus they are gorgeous. They told everyone at the school not to talk to me, including my cousin Arica, Xavier, and Xavier, one of the Fab 4. He is best friends with the demon himself, Sage Stone, the Future Alpha of the Stone Rock Pack. So now it's been a week since school started. I am heading to the Library, but just as I was walking down the hallway. I heard a growl, then when I look up I saw the most blueish grey eyes I have ever seen it was Sage Stone, and the next minute I felt being lifted up in the air and onto his shoulder, he then shoved me in the Janitors closet I feel heavy breathing on my neck .."humi I mean girl" he says but then I wasn't focusing on him I was focusing on the locked door I was scared of him now then he says "you better not be talking to other guys " then he slammed me in the wall and says something in my ear stop wearing slutty clothes and showing your bits no one wants to see that and look at the filth" then I look down at myself then thought I just wore jeans also a T-shirt. Still, I look up at Sage; he has his hands on my hips, growling. He is clenching his fingers. It was hurting, then I said, " Get off, Sage, now.