Dead Space Chapter 5 Novels & Stories

In the third year after my fiancée, Iris Ford, falls off a cliff during a sketching trip in the mountains, I accidentally walk into her personal art exhibition. The person I have longed for day and night is right there, gently adjusting the scarf of the young man beside her. The walls are covered with portraits she once promises to paint only for me, but every subject of her paintings is that young man. Violet Bardot, Iris' best friend and the one who once helps me handle her funeral affairs, grabs me anxiously. "Graham, don't do anything rash. Iris has her reasons. After Jack Glenwood saved her, she suffered from a head injury and lost her memory. She didn't mean to stay away." I smile at how ridiculous she is. "It's one thing if Iris lost her memories, but did you lose yours too? Since Iris is still alive, why do you not bring her back? You've watched me live in pain and misery for three years. I had to rely on sleeping pills just to get by. Do you find that amusing?" Violet falls silent and doesn't dare to look at me again. The young man named Jack hides behind Iris timidly. In the next moment, Iris turns to look at me with a frosty expression. "Mr. Stevens, I do not wish to go back. The person I love now is Jack. Since I've forgotten my past, just treat it as memories from a previous lifetime."

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his buddies talking through the open window. "Dude, you’re so cool blooded. Inventing a twin brother just to dodge diaper duty? What's next—triplets and quadruplets coming out of the woodwork too?"

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

Three years ago, during our marking ceremony, my fated mate suddenly proposed to my stepsister, Ashley Calisto. When I was publicly humiliated, Owen Wagner, Alpha of the pack and president of the Wolf Alliance, started to pursue me obsessively. A few months later, I became his Luna. He has treated me with great care and tenderness for the past three years. That is, until I get pregnant and accidentally overhear his secret conversation with a witch. "I need a potion that will kill the pup in her womb without her noticing," Owen says. The witch asks in confusion, "Alpha Owen, why don't you want this heir?" Owen replies coldly, "The only one worthy of bearing my pup is Ashley. This entire thing had been orchestrated to protect Ashley anyway." So, all this tenderness has just been part of a carefully crafted lie. If that's the case, I'll let them have each other.

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"

Half a year into my death, my wife, Serena Beckett, wants me to donate my kidney to William Clark, her heavily ill first love. Serena smashes my tombstone like a madwoman in the graveyard. Then, she kicks the tokens aside. "He's dead? What sort of sick joke is this? Jason Shaw is a coward! He definitely doesn't have the guts to die! "I think he just doesn't want to save William's life! To think that he actually roped you guys into putting up this act just to pretend that he's actually dead!" Serena is furious, to say the least. The graveyard's staff members are so frightened that they dare not speak up at all. A newly-recruited staff member finally muster the courage to say something. "Ma'am, Mr. Shaw really is dead. Apparently, he died in the donation surgery that had taken place half a year ago… He—" "Shut up!" Serena slaps him while cutting him off. "You really think I'll believe that bullshit? Tell him that if he doesn't show his face in three days, his little sister can forget about getting off the surgical table alive! I mean what I said!" With a dark expression, Serena turns on her heel and leaves angrily afterward. But the staff member looks toward another tombstone not far away. Then, he lets out a heavy sigh. "It's a shame that his sister has already died due to her illness taking a turn for the worse."

After coming home from work, I see my favorite dishes laid out all over the table. The liquor is warmed up, and its aroma is the type that I like. But I don't feel the slightest bit grateful toward my thoughtful and gentle wife. My gaze passes through her and lands on the wall behind her. There hangs a memorial portrait of her…

Matteo Cassimo and I are childhood sweethearts. But he gets assassinated on the day before our wedding. I cry my heart out in front of his grave to the point I faint from exhaustion. When I wake up again, I see a few live comments crossing my vision. "Poor Annie… She's still kept in the dark about the truth." "Seriously, Annie believes everything Matteo tells her. Serves her right for getting duped by Matteo's fake death." "Can someone please tell Annie that Matteo fakes his death to get rid of her, because his mistress finds out he's about to get married and decides to secretly leave him? I bet those two are being lovey-dovey with each other right now!" "Forget about it. Annie has nothing but blind trust in Matteo, after all. Maybe when he finally comes back from the 'dead,' she'll marry him happily again." One month later, the news headlines all over the papers are filled with the explosive news of the impending marriage between me and the heir of the Valente family, William Valente. That's when Matteo's subordinate confronts me. "Our Don has just passed away recently, and yet you're already planning to marry someone else?" I merely chuckle icily in return. "So what if I am? I can't just be a widow at such a young age now, can I?"

My husband died six months ago. At least… that’s what everyone said. While I’m drowning in his debts, working double shifts just to survive, the only person who refuses to leave me alone is the man I should fear the most — Drakon Vasilios, my husband’s best friend and the ruthless VP of the Wolves MC. He watched me from the moment I became Nikos’s wife. Now he’s the one breaking down my door, dragging me into his world, and claiming he’s the only thing standing between me and a brutal rival gang who wants me dead. To the club, I’m “property.” To Drakon, I’m something far more dangerous. His obsession is raw. Possessive. Consuming. Wrong. Because when the truth explodes — that my husband is still alive, a traitor, and the reason everyone wants me dead — everything shatters. And then I discover I’m pregnant. The problem? I don’t know if the baby belongs to the man who betrayed me… or the man willing to burn the world to keep me. Now the club is at war. Loyalties are breaking. Blood is being spilled. And the only place I’m safe… is in the arms of the one man I should never love. He’s my husband’s best friend. My protector. My greatest sin. But once Drakon claims something… no one takes it from the Wolf.

Just a few days before my wedding, I accidentally come across a post while scrolling online. The title reads, "To the guy getting married in this city, your fiancée's already cheated on you." Curious, I click in to see the gossip, only to realize I'm the one being talked about. A deep male voice plays in the video. "I heard you're getting married?" The woman in the frame, bare-backed and trembling, chokes back a sob. "After you left, I realized you're still the one I love most. I'm done with him. Take me away, please!" The moment I hear her voice, it feels like someone punches me straight in the chest. Then I notice something on her wrist—the luxury couple's bracelet I gave her just yesterday. And in that instant, I feel like the biggest joke of all. Turns out the fool was me.