Folding Warhammer Table 소설 & 이야기

My husband, Garrett Kachmar, vanished overseas with his ex, Linda Sharpe. They left me with one thing—an illegitimate, screaming baby. Twenty years later, I posted that my "son" had passed his exams. He was joining the police force. That's when Garrett came back. With Linda. And a lawsuit. At the plaintiff's table, Linda looked polished—soft makeup, perfect posture. Her voice? Pure control. "After Garrett divorced, we got married and had a big, healthy boy. Jemma couldn't stand seeing us happy, so she stole our son. We searched for twenty years. She refuses to give him back. We're his biological parents. We have the right to take him." Garrett shot me a glare. "Jemma, just because you can't have kids doesn't mean you get to steal mine." The trial was livestreamed. The comments exploded. [Can't have your own kid so you steal one?] [You destroyed a family. Sick.] [Give him back to his real parents!] Then my "son" was called into the courtroom. And the whole room went dead quiet.

On the night of our eighth anniversary, I cooked everything Ethan loved. He didn't come home. I sat alone at the table until the food went cold. Then I did what I always did. I opened Selene's profile on the pack network. New post. One hour ago. A photo of Ethan, shirtless, building a fire in her den. Her hand on his shoulder. Her face turned toward the camera with a smile that showed too many teeth. The caption read: Grateful for old friends who drop everything when you need them. Even their marking anniversaries. I stared at it until my eyes burned. Then I liked it. Filed the bond-dissolution request. And started packing the trunk I'd kept ready for months. Ethan didn't believe it when he found out. "She's throwing a fit," I heard he told his packmates. "Give her three days." "I'll crook my finger and she'll come running back." "She always does." What he didn't understand was why I always came back. It was because I loved him. That was gone now.

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.

Richard Lorde’s childhood friend had just become a widow. On our fifth wedding anniversary, he brought his childhood friend and her daughter into a karaoke box and removed my ring right before everyone. “Lily needs a proper status right now. It’s no longer right for you to wear that ring. “Resign from your job tomorrow and take care of Lily and her daughter.” Everyone in the room fell silent as they waited for me to blow my top off. But I said nothing. I calmly brought out the divorce agreement I had already signed, put it on the table, and left. My best friend stood up to advise me against it, but Richard just swung the wine glass and snorted. “Let her. She’ll come begging for my forgiveness before tomorrow.” When I slammed the door shut, I heard laughter from the room. What they did not know was that half an hour ago, I had received a message telling me that my visa application had been approved. The person in charge of picking me up had been waiting at my house ten minutes ago. This time, I was not turning back.

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

My child-free husband went back to his hometown for a funeral, and after he returned, he suddenly wanted me to have a baby. He was one of the best obgyns in the state, so he handled my IVF procedure himself. After more than 160 hormone shots, we finally heard the baby’s rhythmic heartbeats for the first time, which made my usually calm husband tear up. Soon, he tightened every part of my routine, from a strict diet to my schedule, and once my belly started showing, he barely let me get out of bed. I thought he was just being overly protective. But then, right by my ear, I heard a nasty little boy’s voice. [Which player starts their mission inside the womb? And she’s not even my mom!] [Just four more months. My dad will make sure she dies on the operating table so he can keep only his son.] [After that, he’ll bring my real mom back, and my mission will be complete!] I canceled my afternoon checkup immediately as soon as I heard this. Did the system forget to tell him that he wasn’t the only player in this world?

My father-in-law tossed a credit card across the table and looked down at me, demanding that I divorce his daughter. In my past life, I had refused with everything I had. But this time, I picked up the pen and signed the divorce papers without a second thought. Because right then, I remembered what had happened last time. In that life, I found my wife after she had lost her memory. To support her, I worked myself to the bone, delivering 200 food orders a day. But when her memories came back, she realized she was actually the daughter of the wealthy Harretts. She saw our marriage as a stain on her perfect life. To get rid of me, she pretended to have amnesia again. She said, "Since you saved me once, I'll give you some money. But after this, don't ever show up in front of me again." I refused. I stayed by her side, enduring her insults and beatings. But in the end, she ordered our son to set the fire that killed me, just so she could marry her first love. Now that I had been given another chance, I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

Jessie Stewart spent twelve years as an orphan before she was finally brought home to the Stewart family. For the first time in her life, she had parents and brothers. But the very people who promised to love and protect her turned against her. Bruce Stewart, her father, who once vowed she'd be his cherished daughter, told her that if she had any conscience at all, she wouldn't fight Mia Stewart, her adoptive sister, for a man. Her brothers, who swore they'd spoil her rotten, dragged her onto an operating table just to draw blood for Mia. As for her fiancé, Henry Lawson, every time things got dangerous, he chose to protect Mia instead of her. Three years later, Jessie's parents were on their knees in tears. Her once arrogant brothers slapped themselves in shame. Even her arrogant ex-fiancé knelt at her feet. They all begged her to come back. Little did they know, Jessie's heart had long since been closed off during those countless nights of pain and betrayal. She had already met the love of her life. In the years to come, she would never again be alone. He tended to her every need. To him, Jessie was everything and more.

Before Christmas Eve, all of Nowevik was betting. Not on money. On me. Would I finally pull the winning lot? Would Leon Fabian finally take me to his family estate for Christmas? The Fabians had a rule. A new bride had to attend the Christmas Eve dinner with the whole family before she counted as one of them. I'd been married five years. Five years. The lot never landed on me. I'd become Nowevik's favorite joke. This year, the winning ticket went to a nightclub hostess. She lounged on Leon's lap and flicked it onto the table in front of me, smiling like she'd already won. The room went silent. Everyone waited— for me to lunge at her like I had the last four years. Claws out. A scene. But I didn't move. "Congratulations." Leon leaned in, breath warm at my ear, smiling like he'd just proved something. "Wynne, you're finally learning how to behave. Keep this up and you might actually become a proper lady of my house." I lowered my eyes and tore the ticket in half. My face stayed blank. Leon had no idea the five-year deal between my brother and me was already over. Soon, he'd come take me home.