Cash Prize Competitions Novels & Stories

Carlos Gotti, a ruthless mafia boss got saved by Serafina at a masked halloween party leaving a student i. Carlos traces her back through the student id but it was a different person on the id. Serafina was holding her best friend Isabella's handbag and the id had mistakenly slipped off from the bag. Isabella claims to be Sera taking both the cash prize and crawling her way into Carlos heart but then something was different, the perfume which Sera wore was different from Isabella's perfume. What happens when Carlos finds out the perfume worn by Isabella was different from Sera and was being impersonated by Isabella? How long will Isabella pretend to be the one who saved Carlos Gotti? Will Sera ever find out her best friend's betrayal? What happens when the ruthless Mafia don falls for an average girl Sera?

The paralyzed heir of Deshonte City's elite social circle demanded that my sister marry him as a bride to "ward off bad luck." But she was already pregnant—with my fiancé's baby. So the so-called "marriage arrangement" disaster ended up landing on me. My father was so furious he smashed his teacup right then and there. "Absolutely not! Even if Catherine is adopted, she does not deserve to be humiliated like this!" My fiancé, though, grabbed my hand. "Catherine, how could I ever fall for someone else? It's just that Veronica is carrying my child—I can't let her walk into her doom. You'll just take your sister's place for now. Once things settle down, I'll come get you." Watching him put on this whole show of devotion, it suddenly hit me that marrying a paralyzed heir might actually be more peaceful than staying here. I pressed my father's hand down and said calmly, "Dad, Mom… I'll go." On the day of the wedding, I wore a stunning white gown and sat beside my groom in his wheelchair. My ex-fiancé sent me a message: [I'm sorry you're going through this. Wait for me.] I handed the phone to the man next to me and smiled. "Honey, looks like my brother-in-law is awfully concerned about me."

Just as my wealthy boyfriend and I were talking about getting married, his mother dismissed me as an unrefined girl and demanded I attend a finishing school to learn how to be a proper wife. Looking at Zach’s pleading gaze, I gave in. I endured relentless psychological and physical torment for three months. However, on the day I was discharged, I overheard a phone call between Zach and his friend. “Zach, if you don’t want to marry Cathy, why didn’t you just tell her? Why did you have to send her to that hellhole to suffer? That finishing school your family runs is a freaking torture chamber. Constant beatings, electric shocks, forced kneeling for hours… No one comes out of there the same.” “You don’t get it. Jen is about to get engaged, and I can’t risk Cathy ruining it. As long as Jen is happy, I don’t care who I marry. Cathy grew up poor, so she can endure a little hardship. Three months of hardship for a lifetime of Stein money is a fair trade.” My vision blurred with tears when I heard those cruel words from his mouth. I thought. “Zach, since you loved Jenna so much, why did you have to toy with my feelings?”

A hell-recycle world within the modern world, designed for death or near-death individuals. With the greenhouse effect resulting in instability in hell, access to hell becomes restricted, and the game keeps the new souls busy while offering them a second chance to return to their lives before death, depending on their performance. A six-digit cash prize is awarded to the winning participants, with rewards ranging from reversed choices and time manipulation to wealth and more. The 100 Doors Challenge System was designed purposely for this world, to keep the growing audience (already existing souls) entertained. Chosen participants must die beautifully at each door. The fancier and more tragic the death, the higher the views. The story alternates between real-world broadcast control rooms, digital death arenas, and fragmented dreamlike worlds designed from Author Willa’s traumas, fears, and regrets and those of the participating ghosts. 100 Doors: Die Fabulously for the Audience. This story contains graphic adult themes, including explicit sexual content, psychological tension, dark humour, trauma, and scenes of coercion and moral ambiguity. It explores mature, disturbing, and emotionally intense situations within a fantasy-system setting. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

My husband's gym was celebrating its grand opening, so I grabbed my best friend and headed over under the guise of "checking the place out," armed with a $10 trial class we had snagged from a group deal. I never once mentioned that I was the owner's wife. The moment we wrapped up the workout, a female trainer slapped a price sheet into our hands and gave us a look that could cut glass. "Let me guess, you two came here to milk the freebies? Our private training sessions cost hundreds. They're not here for people like you to exploit." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We bought a perfectly valid trial class. How does that make us freeloaders? Get your manager." She rolled her eyes, acting like she was the rules. "Call whoever you want! The owner is my boyfriend, and he can't stand penny-pinchers who show up trying to mooch off his gym." Then, right in front of us, she called him—voice raised, dramatic, dripping with fake indignation. "Babe, there are two cheapskates in your gym demanding the manager. Come deal with them for me!"

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.

In my previous life, I, Ruth Spencer, fell seriously ill. Because of that, I managed to stop my husband, Zayne Colman, from going on a business trip to the country border. He immediately canceled his flight, pulled me into his arms, and gently comforted me. Over the phone, he gave instructions to my younger sister, Reagan Spencer. "The project comes first. You go in my place." But no one could have known that the so-called business partner was actually a ruthless scam syndicate. Reagan had her organs harvested and was tortured to death. I was devastated. Zayne held my frail body in his arms and hoarsely promised that even though Reagan was gone, he would still love me twice as much. And he kept his promise. For ten years, he never let me suffer at all. In fact, he spoiled me rotten. This went on until the day I gave birth. The pain nearly knocked me unconscious, but Zayne put his hand over the call button to prevent me from summoning help. The words he spoke were laced with malice. "If you hadn't gotten sick at such a convenient time back then, Reagan wouldn't have gone alone! I could have saved her. "It's your fault she's dead! She must feel so lonely down there. You and this bastard child can go keep her company!" That was when I finally realized that our love were nothing but a lie. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day he is about to leave for that trip to the border. This time, I release them to the path leading to freedom, or, in other words, to hell.

At the company holiday party raffle, I'd barely stepped on stage when my superior, Victor Grant, shoved a crumpled slip into my hand. "Special prize for our top sales guy. Go on, open it. Let's show everyone." All eyes were on me as I unfolded it. Scrawled across the paper: [VIP janitor status unlocked—every toilet in the company, three days.] The room lost it—laughter everywhere. Victor crossed his arms, grinning. "Fair, right? Everyone knows you climbed the ranks hooking up with rich cougars. Gotta avoid hard feelings for the others, yeah? While the rest of us take a break, you can get busy. You're not gonna back out, are you?" The crowd cracked up. My girlfriend—and CEO—Rachel Sullivan stood off to the side, watching. Didn't say a word. Everyone waited for me to explode. Instead, I just nodded. Next day, over 300 refund requests hit. Cash flow flatlined. Victor and Rachel begged me to talk the buyers down. I shrugged. "Nah. Don't wanna save the company and make my performance too good. That'd just cause more ' hard feelings,' right?"

Hot-headed Cash Huxley is perfectly fine not being tied down. She lives her life the way she wants without having to answer to anyone. Which is why she's been the target of her family's constant pestering on the matter of marriage. While they want nothing more than to see her live her "happily ever after", Cash on the other hand would rather gouge her eyes out than fall in line with the countless women she's seen suffering because of the lies they believe in. Being unable to take it any longer, however, Cash's mother decides to take things into her own hands by setting up her stubborn daughter on a blind date with one of the most eligible bachelors she knows- Rio Asheton. Rio is the heir to the Asheton family conglomerate and more specifically the son of her father's boss. Will Cash be able to retain her sanity long enough to ensure her freedom or will Rio be the one to finally get her to give in and say "I do"?

I head over to my boyfriend, Skylar Reynold's house during the holidays to pay his family a visit. Skylar's mother, Helen Benett, smiles and says to me in front of everyone, "According to our rules, a future daughter-in-law must give cash gifts to all the children and elderly people in the family in her first year here. You must give every person at least 200 dollars to show how generous you are." I'm stunned, to say the least. Skylar nudges me before murmuring, "It's just a few thousand dollars, isn't it? Doesn't the holiday bonus that you've received before the holidays cover everything?" I look at the living room, where 15 children and 8 elderly people are present. That makes it 4,600 dollars—the same figure that I've received after the taxes are deducted from the bonus. I let out a soft chuckle at that moment. Then, I turn to look at Helen. "According to your rules, Mrs. Reynold, I shall be the one giving away the cash gifts. But according to my family's rules, the groom's family has to give the bride's family cash gifts as well. The cash gifts must be doubled so that our marriage will be graced by luck. "It'll be 9,200 dollars altogether. Would you like to pay me in cash, or are you going to transfer it into my account?"