Kc Undercover Sister Novels & Stories

My older sister, Candice Channing, was a doctor who was an expert at treating infertility patients. She was always telling me how worried she was about me marrying a man who was not great in bed, which would be equivalent to me marrying into a life of being a widow. That was why she would always seduce every boyfriend I had. After sleeping with them, she would approach me by showing off the love marks on her body. "I've tried him out for you. He's not a considerate lover and refused to let me go even after I told him 'No'. This isn't a man you would want." I broke down every time she did this. After that, I cut ties with her and left for another place. That was when I met Russell L

My husband, Zachary Larson, and I are holding a welcome dinner for my sister, Julia Scott. When someone asks what Julia's greatest regret is, she raises her glass and looks at Zachary dreamily. "It's probably the time I wasn't brave enough to keep his child." Everyone starts to whisper amongst themselves. I tighten my grip on the pregnancy check-up report I'm about to reveal to them. My stomach twists with the emotions swirling in my head. Julia suddenly returns to her senses and chuckles. "I was just kidding. We were only friends with benefits, so don't take it to heart, Queenie. He married you, so you're the one he loves."

The first year after they finally bring me home, the impostor suggests a trip to Golden Island so we can build some brotherly rapport. For safety, my fiancee comes with us. They rack up a massive gambling debt at Golden Island's casino. To get themselves out of trouble, she leaves me behind as a hostage and disappears with him. The casino thugs pin me down, ready to take out their anger on me. I struggle to break free, and that is when I notice the leader's phone lighting up with a number for the island owner. Isn't that the number of the adoptive sister who has adored me for more than a decade?

“And the night we met again,” I whisper, “my wolf recognized you.” Silence. “Recognized me how?” she asks carefully. My chest burns even as my pulse thunders in my ears. “As my mate.” The word falls between us like shattered glass. Avara laughs. “That’s not funny.” “I know.” “You’re my brother.” “I know.” I find myself inching closer… closer. “That’s impossible. This is sick.” “I know,” I say again, voice breaking now. “I fought it. Gods, I fought it. I tried to convince myself my instincts were wrong, that my wolf was broken, that I was losing my mind.” Her hands shake. “Stop.” “I can’t,” I say hoarsely. “Because every second I’m near you, it gets worse. Because my wolf wants t

I failed my college entrance examination. My father decided to sell me to the village chief’s hot-tempered, crippled son. My younger twin sister helped me escape in the middle of the night. It was only later that I discovered my younger sister was the one who had failed the examination. She used my identity to attend college and hooked up with a rich heir. At her engagement banquet, they revealed the truth that she had taken my identity. As a result, the event fell apart. Out of rage, my sister pushed me down the stairs. I grabbed her and pulled her down with me. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day the examination results came out.

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I

In the three years we've been married, Colin Luther never touches me once. Living in the room next door is Rebecca Jennings, his adopted younger sister with no blood relation to him. She supposedly suffers from severe androphobia. Whenever she sees any man other than Colin, she trembles uncontrollably. Whenever she has nightmares in the middle of the night, Colin immediately leaves me and rushes to her room. So, the master bedroom is given to her. I sleep on a folding bed in the study, and Colin sleeps on the floor outside her door to stand guard. Every week, my mother-in-law, Alicia Brooks, comes by with the soup she made herself. The first thing she does is go into Rebecca's room. Only

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to shar

“THE BRIDE GETS THE CROWN. THE BROTHER GETS THE KING.” A mistake. That's what it is. But mistakes are addictive too, sweet as hell, alluring, and happen more than once. Nicolas and I were not supposed to be. He's the enemy and I'm supposed to be the last face he would see as he takes his last breath. But that's the thing about being sent after a devil. He lures you, binds you, and takes you over and over again. I should be scared. I am. And this one is sin. He's not just my enemy. He's my brother-in-law. We are not supposed to be, our story was not supposed to be written. But he's a taste of heaven on earth and I'll willingly die smiling. My name is Saint and Nicolas is

My family sold one of their properties to put me through school abroad. Nathan Kingsley and I had been together three years. Two of those were long-distance. Through those two years of me alone overseas, he never broke contact — airport pickups, long phone calls, every anniversary remembered. I'd never once doubted him. I thought distance hadn't beaten us. The day I flew home, he was waiting at Arrivals with a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said, "Finally." We set the engagement date. We picked out the dress. We booked the reception. The day the wedding march began and I stood at the top of the aisle looking at him, I thought — these three years were worth every minute. Then the do