Half Circle Console Table Novels & Stories

She gave him five years of her life. Her education. Her passion. Her family name. Everything she had and everything she was — laid down piece by piece at the altar of a man and his ambitions, because she loved him and she believed in them. But the moment he reached the top, he discarded her without a second glance and proposed to another woman on international live television. So Mia did the only reasonable thing a heartbroken, furious woman could do. She found a bar. She found a stranger. She found her way into a hotel room and completely out of her mind for one reckless, consequence-free night. Then he tried to pay her afterward. She paid him back. Every bill. Then she slapped him clean across the face and walked out without looking back. She thought that was the end of it. It wasn't even close. Because the stranger she spent the night with turned out to be Cole Ashford — new captain of the Chicago Vortex, the most infuriating man she had ever encountered, and the person sitting behind the interview table when she walked in the very next morning with her whole future on the line. He wants her. He said so plainly, across a professional table, without a single apology for the honesty of it. She told him exactly where he could put that. But Cole Ashford is not a man who lets go of what he wants. And somewhere between the fury and the history and the secret she has spent years running from, Mia is beginning to wonder if the universe placed him in her path for a reason. Or if she is simply foolish enough to make the same mistake twice.

In my third year of marriage, Victor Lyon, the most prominent man in Sagedale's elite circle as well as my husband, goes viral on the Internet once again. This time, it's because he has decided to throw a grand wedding to be with Carol Braun, the low-income student he has been sponsoring. I don't kick up a fuss, nor do I throw a tantrum. In fact, I even have someone send them my wishes. Because of that, the rich wives of Sagedale's elite circle view me as a complete joke. After the wedding, Victor explains to me, "Carol's grandpa is very ill. His death wish is to see her marry a good man. I was just acting with her the whole time, Lilian. Don't take it to heart." I just smile and nod. "Yeah, I believe you." In my previous life, I had demanded explanations from Victor hysterically. But in return, he screwed over my parents' company to the point that they were forced to jump off a building by debtors. I got my legs broken before I got thrown into a mental asylum that tortured me endlessly. Thank goodness God took pity on me, for He gave me another chance in life. This time, I no longer want Victor's love. I just want his wealth. When he's busy going on a honeymoon with Carol, I secretly have his assets transferred under my name. When Victor's attending prenatal checkups with Carol, I trick him into signing a share-transfer agreement. Whenever he betrays me, I'll take some of his assets away. Once Victor betrays me three more times, he won't have anything under his name.

Rivergate's most elite social circle had always shared an unspoken rule. Men were free to play the field as they pleased, drifting from one woman to the next. Women, on the other hand, were only allowed a single, discreet indulgence on the day they came of age—a privately hired "life assistant" meant to take care of their physical needs. … On my coming-of-age day, I picked Elliot at first glance from a hundred applicants who came in for interviews. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looked composed and restrained, and carried himself with a calm maturity that set him apart. He was steady, meticulous, and obsessively clean. The only condition he agreed to was that there would be no bodily contact—hands only. And after every encounter, he would scrub his hands with disinfectant alcohol a hundred times. Over five years, the empty bottles alone were enough to circle the villa seven times. I used to think that one day, I'd help him overcome his barriers and truly make him mine. That illusion shattered the night I got drunk and accidentally wandered into Elliot's room. Hidden beneath his pillow was a DV camera, and inside were several videos of him pleasuring himself. On the screen, the same man who had always been calm and rational with me was staring at the lingerie of the adopted sister who had caused my mother's death, his Adam's apple bobbing as he moaned her name, "Chloe… I love you…" Only then did I realize that every step he had taken toward me had never been about me at all. It had always been a carefully concealed, long-nurtured love for her. So, it was very odd that he cried when I took my adopted sister's place in marrying someone else.

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"

Where she’s been for the last two and half years was a mystery, and so was the reason she left in the first place. Now, though, she’s back in their hometown of Santa Monica, California, even if it means facing the boy(Conor) she fell in love with and revealing the reason she left. Conor has questions, and when his broken heart and her guilty one collide. Only one thing is certain: Chloe’s daughter will change everything

Chiara Ravensworth is a witch—half Magickal, half Mundane. Her mother, a covert agent for the Council of Magickal Elders, lives in the shadows, while Chiara stays with her father in the ordinary world. Divorced but still in love, her parents’ strange balance mirrors Chiara’s own: caught between two realms, searching for where she truly belongs. Gideon Swan has no memory of his Magickal bloodline. Orphaned, bullied, and fiercely intelligent, he carved out a life in the mundane world posing as a ‘psychic.’ Now filthy rich and famously reclusive, Gideon is haunted by vivid dreams of a woman he’s never met—and by the violent, uncontrolled powers that surge within him, erupting in natural disasters. He hides from the world to protect it. Until Chiara appears at his door on a storm-torn evening—and something within him quiets for the first time. She’s the woman from his dreams. Bound by an ancient, rare bond—twin flames—their connection is both a gift and a curse. Together, they could become the greatest force for good the world has ever seen… or, as twin flames in history did, they destroy each other in the fire of their own making. While in the shadows, something dark and patient waits. It needs only one thing to rise: their union, so it could harness that flame for itself.

"You’re mine, Adaira. When this night is over, and when your voice is hoarse from screaming my name, I won’t have to remind you who you belong to.” ~ After getting rejected by her chosen mate at 18, Adaira is devastated and she flees her pack in tears. It took her an entire year to pick up all her pieces, and Raed is the one who comforted and repaired her, the one who made her believe in happiness again. They were planning to get mated when a half wolf, half demon hybrid abomination destroyed her pack, killed Raed and marked her forcefully. Fate played a cruel trick on her when the truth was revealed and this murderer is her true mate. After all these things, he still expects her to bend to his will. But even with her body craving his touch, she has only one thing in mind for him… revenge. ~ WARNING: This book is rated 18+ and therefore contains sexually explicit content. It is also a dark romance so there are some themes that may be triggering and is therefore not for the faint of heart. Gavrael is not a prince charming neither is he a gentleman. P.S; please don't forget to drop a comment as you read, thanks.

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

"Ms. Hall, these are the details of the feigned death service you booked with us. The date of death is set for the wedding, half a month from now. The cause of death will be suicide by drowning, and the deceased is yourself. Please confirm and sign here." Wendy Hall nodded. Without hesitation, she signed her name at the bottom of the document. The bustling street was alive with chatter and movement. As Wendy walked home alone, she glanced up, and there it was—the giant screen on a nearby building, looping a video of Grayson Bryce proposing to her.

After being abroad for half a year, I went back home to see my fiancee. However, I was stopped at a parking lot by a random man yelling at me. I tried to shrug him off, but he arrogantly retorted, “Don’t you know who I am? Vanessa Whitecastle is my wife. If you’re smart, you’ll do what I say.” I stood in place and looked at him. Then, I made a phone call, “Are you seeing another man, Vanessa?”