I Am Zero Novels & Stories

At the underground auction house, tonight's grand finale was billed as a 'premium wolf pet'. Inside the cage, a male wolf knelt with a bite-prevention muzzle locked around his neck. He was clearly a prisoner, yet his eyes held no trace of submission when he lifted his head. Instead, he looked like he was judging every single person in the room. His gaze cut through the crowd and locked onto me. My heart stuttered as excitement flooded my system. I finally knew what true attraction felt like. A well-dressed man in the front row raised his paddle. "$100 million." Gasps erupted across the venue. It was an astronomical opening bid. I smiled and slowly raised my paddle too. My voice brought the hall to dead silence. "$500 million."

Just three days after we got engaged, I stumbled across a private story posted by the girl he had grown up with. 'Too bad the boy who confessed to me ninety-nine times is marrying someone else in ten days.' In the photo, he trailed behind her through a crowded mall, his arms loaded with shopping bags, looking as if he had rehearsed the scene a hundred times. Curious, I scrolled down to read the comments. 'No way. The childhood-best-friend and first-love storyline still lost? Girl, that hurts.' 'Lost? He's getting married and still spending the whole day shopping with her. She didn't lose anything.' 'I feel bad for the bride. I'm seriously waiting for confession number one hundred to happen at the wedding, followed by a runaway groom scene.' Watching strangers bicker in the comments, I quietly pressed the like button, blending into their chaos. None of them knew that in just ten days, I would be the one stepping away from the altar. The fake-death package I'd ordered was already in motion. While my fiance and his childhood sweetheart mourned the love they claimed was out of reach, I quietly counted down the days until I could disappear for good.

It was the day of our wedding trip, and my fiancee only hurried over to the airport at the last minute. Right before we boarded, she got an urgent message from her male secretary. "Sorry, honey. There's a big project that needs my attention. Just showed up. You go ahead without me. I'll catch up once I'm done with work." It was a shame, but work was important. "Yeah, I get it." Then, I tore up the flight ticket after my fiancee was gone. My fiancee talking about a big project when I just bought the whole company hours earlier? Well, I'd like to see who was the idiot who worked around their new boss to talk to someone who did not exist.

When I witness my husband, Wayne Donaldson, and Valeria Meadows, a poor scholarship student he had been funding, exiting the hospital with a baby, I finally realize that Wayne has been lying to me about the fact that he got drugged by others. That day, I file for a divorce from him. But Wayne grips my hand and promises me, "Don't worry, you'll be the only Mrs. Donaldson. She won't be able to affect your position in any way." I just laugh in his face. He thinks I choose to be with him because of his money. But what he doesn't know is that my dad is the richest man in the city. Even the Donaldsons' ascent through the ranks is all thanks to my secretive help. That night, I send my dad two texts. The first one writes, "I agree to enter a marriage alliance with Mason Frost." The second one writes, "You can terminate all investments devoted to the Donaldsons right now."

William Graham and Jasmine Spencer had been at odds since they were kids. But that year, fate played a trick on them—out of all the eligible matches in their circle, only the two of them were left. William swore he would rather die than marry Jasmine. That piqued her interest. She said, "Great. Then I guess I'm definitely marrying you. Go ahead and drop dead." On their wedding day, William humiliated her by releasing dozens of chickens at the ceremony. With a flat look, Jasmine picked one up and called it "Darling". Just like that, William lost all interest in the joke. He looked at the woman who insisted on marrying him and sneered. "You'll regret this." Three years into the marriage, Jasmine caught William cheating for the ninety-ninth time. It was only then that she finally understood— So this was the kind of regret William had meant.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

For Founders' Day, Julian Whitmore said he was finally taking me home to meet his family. I spent three months preparing. Then I waited an hour outside his front door. By the time I made it inside, his mother was already holding the hand of a girl in a fitted red dress. "This is Camille," she announced to the room, beaming. "Julian's fiancée. The wedding's set for Thanksgiving." I looked at Julian. He kept his head down. He didn't deny it. All through dinner, he and Camille Sinclair accepted toast after toast of congratulations, while the butler led me in through the side door and sat me at a table in the corner — without so much as a place setting. Three rounds of drinks in, he texted me: [Wait for me. I'll fix this.] I sent back three words: [Congratulations to you.]

"Genie" His voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "This is so wrong, we can't be doing this." His lips find their way back to mine, trailing the bottom lip with his tongue. "So so wrong" He pulled my lower lips in, biting on them. I stifled a moan. "I know," I managed to say. I could feel the warm slickness ache between my legs. "We shouldn't be doing this. You're my step brother." My body doesn't agree with what my mouth is saying. I snuggled closer into his chest wanting to feel the heat of his bare body against mine. I want his mouth against mine, ravaging me like he had done before. We have gone too far to back out now. "Take me, Ryder" Those were the words he needed. Only those three words. Suddenly, he grips the back of my thighs and lifts me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. Planting me against the wall, he peers up and look straight into my eyes "You're mine" Then his lips came down on mine. I'm yours. I whispered back in the back of my head. ******** Ryder Saint, for years, has bullied me. Reasons? None. It was like he signed a contract from heaven to make my life hell. From the moment he set his eyes on me, he added my name to his list. Don't be fooled by his last name. It's a charade, he's not anything like it. Everything about Ryder Saint smells evil. His heart, dark. His soul, dark. His aura, dark. Except his face. I should have neglected him like I always have, but I couldn't when our parents decided to tie the knots and he became my stepbrother. He and I, under the same roof.

He saved my life. Then he fell in love with me. Dr. Aiden Black was my surgeon at Cedars-Sinai in L.A. Strict. Brilliant. Kind. I thought I’d never see him again after I was discharged. But he showed up at my follow-up. And the next one. And with coffee on my birthday. He went from checking my pulse... to holding my hand. From "Patient" on his chart... to "My Wife" in his heart. This is how I met my husband.

The day I got out of prison, my girlfriend—who I hadn't seen in five years—pulled up in a Maserati to pick me up. In the passenger seat sat a guy in his early twenties, athletic build. His face looked a little too much like mine did when I was younger. Selene told me not to make a scene. Not to want things that were never mine. She said with her status now, she could have as many pretty boys as she wanted. Right now, she only had one. Apparently, he was my replacement. So I shouldn't be so narrow-minded. After all, a guy like me—fresh out of prison with a record—wasn't even in her league anymore. I stared at Selene, a little dazed. She wasn't wrong. But she seemed to have forgotten why I went to prison in the first place.