Disturbia Plot Novels & Stories

After Jasmine’s father puts their pack in debt, the Lycan kings offer her father a deal to pay off the pack's debt in exchange for his daughter. Unfortunately, her father doesn’t hesitate in selling her off to the Lycan kings and she has no choice but to obey her father’s order. The rumors she has heard about the powerful and wealthy Lycan kings who ruled over all four groups of packs were beyond terrible! Things get more twisted when she finds out she’s mated all three of the Lycan kings! Can she soften the hearts of the cruel Lycan kings? Or will the new life she's thrust into completely ruin her?

In the tenth year after I had married in his place, my brother, Thayer Ashford, suddenly returned. The whole family fell silent as they looked at him. He yawned as he spoke with careless ease, “I traveled through thirteen countries. I’m exhausted. “Where’s Seraphina? She should be in primary school by now, right? Why hasn’t she come to see me?” Seraphina was Thayer’s daughter. Back then, Thayer had abruptly announced he had a child. Yet on the very day of his wedding, he staged his own death, leaving behind Seraphina and his fiancée, Isolde Fairchild. The Fairchilds belonged to the old-money elite of the city. My parents did not dare offend them, so they decided to package me—fresh out of graduation—and send me to the wedding in Thayer’s place. Over these ten years, I became a competent husband and a responsible father. As my parents watched Thayer’s brazen composure, their gazes shifted toward me. I gave them a faint smile. “Sera went to Novaforge with Isolde.”

Three days before the SAT, a car slammed into me. My right leg was ruined. Govind stood beside my hospital bed and said, "I set it up." He pointed at the cast on my leg and smiled. "You upset Yvette. It's just a broken leg. Better that than watching her cry." I stared at him, stunned, then dug my nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood. He shoved me off without a care. Then he patted my head like he always used to. "Now I get why your parents dumped you at that children's home. With an attitude like yours, you were never gonna be as lovable as Yvette." Yvette was my older sister. Fifteen years ago, I got hurt saving Yvette from a speeding car. She cried to our parents and claimed I'd pushed her. That same night, bruised and bleeding, I was dumped at a children's home. When I'd already given up on everything, Govind showed up and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. And now, for her, he was destroying me with his own hands.

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

After a sex filled night with a beautiful, strange lady, Elvin is torn between eagerness to say goodbye to this lady, and the desire to have one more feel of last night when the government declares a lockdown. He finds himself trapped inside his home with her, and just like him, she also wants more experiences like last night, although, through a series of games.

I had been in a relationship with Zachary Dawson for seven years and engaged for three when, out of the blue, Ruby White, the daughter of his mentor, moved into our home. Sitting casually on the bed that Zachary and I shared, Ruby lounged with an air of nonchalance, her voice playful and teasing. "Zachary, the dental god, sure has a nice bed," she remarked with a smirk. "I can only imagine what it would be like to spend the night with him in this bed." I captured the scene on my phone and sent the video to our family group chat with a brief message: Looks like Zachary might have a new girlfriend Zachary rushed home, wrapping his arms protectively around a tearful Ruby. He pointed at me, his voice seething with anger. "My mentor's dying wish was for me to take care of Ruby! If you can't accept that, then move out!" Honestly, my brows furrowed deeper than the wrinkles on the bedsheets Ruby had sat on. Fine. I didn't need the bed, and I didn't need a fiancé anymore.

My sister and I were both adopted from the same orphanage. When we got to choose our paths, she picked a prominent family in Edenorf City—wealthy, influential, and utterly untouchable. But the heir turned out to be twisted and cruel. He tormented her day in and day out. I chose the unassuming Moss family. They didn't have the fortune or the status of her new family, but they treated me with genuine warmth. In time, their youngest son became a business titan, and he married me, giving me a life filled with more happiness than I'd ever dreamed possible. Consumed by jealousy, my sister secretly strangled me. But when I opened my eyes again, I found she had shamelessly stolen the life I’d built—this time, choosing the Moss family for herself. "Carmen," she sneered, "now it's your turn to suffer." I almost laughed out loud. Did she think the Moss heir was some simple jackpot?

I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.

My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within. When the holidays came, I went to visit her. But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly. "Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!" I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder. "Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!" Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—" Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart. "Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive." Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit. This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife. "If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."