Luffy Photo Novels & Stories

I died beneath the Ferris wheel. The killer took a photo of the Ferris wheel and sent it to my mother. 'Mom, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you too,' wrote the killer. In my mother's voice message, her tone was filled with hatred as she replied, "How dare you ask to ride the Ferris wheel with me when you killed your own sister? Why won't you just die?!" As she wished, I was dead. However, what she didn't know was that the one who killed me was my so-called dead sister.

Aria Dever is used to being invisible. Brilliant, reserved, and fiercely independent, she hides in the school library to escape high school drama and people like Adrian Cole, the cocky captain of the basketball team. But one accidental text—a private photo meant for her long-distance boyfriend lands in Adrian’s hands, pulling her into his chaotic world. Adrian is everything Aria has learned to avoid: arrogant, charismatic, and impossibly handsome. But beneath the golden-boy façade lies a dangerous secret—he’s a werewolf, bound by pack loyalties and a hidden bloodline. When Adrian fails a critical test, he corners Aria with a deal: tutor him until finals, or risk the photo leaking. Furious and trapped, she agrees. What starts as sarcastic banter and forced proximity soon spirals into something neither of them can ignore. But high school politics, a jealous cheerleader, and a charming new transfer student with his own secrets threaten to tear them apart. As Aria discovers Adrian’s supernatural nature, she realizes she’s immune to his powers—and part of a prophecy that could change everything. When the state basketball championship becomes a battlefield for both victory and revenge, Aria is kidnapped in a scheme orchestrated by her greatest tormentor. Adrian will stop at nothing to save her, even if it means risking everything. In a world where loyalty, love, and pack bonds collide, Aria and Adrian must confront enemies, rivals, and their own hearts. Can a nerdy bookworm and the golden-boy werewolf survive high school, sports rivalries, and supernatural danger—and come out stronger, together?

Just before the new school term started, my daughter's parent group chat, which had been quiet for ages, suddenly announced that the first parent-teacher meeting of the semester would be held that night. The rule was: both parents had to attend. A long string of "Got it" followed. I was about to reply when I noticed someone had beaten me to it. A guy with a family photo as his profile picture sent a voice message. "I'm Emma Sullivan's dad. We'll be there!" I froze. I clicked into the member list and checked repeatedly. My daughter's name was Emma Sullivan. He said he was Emma's dad. Then who the hell was I? I immediately called my wife. Before I could say a word, I heard her cheerful voice. "Honey, my best friend just asked me to dinner tonight. I'm bringing our daughter. Just make something at home yourself, and get some sleep early." My heart skipped a beat. Her best friend's husband was my good friend. He had just posted a family vacation photo from the Maldives on his social media. There was no way she was meeting her for dinner that night. I paused for a second, then smiled and said, "Sounds good." I hung up, called a car, and headed straight to my daughter's school. Let's find out exactly who my daughter's other father was.

The day his first love got divorced, my husband drank himself senseless. I stayed up past midnight taking care of him, only to discover that his phone’s photo album was filled with pictures of her. The next morning, after he sobered up, he said to me, “Let’s redo our wedding.” I knew this was his way of provoking his first love into coming back. I smiled and agreed, but not before I slipped a divorce settlement agreement into the wedding contract he signed.

There was a ten-year gap between me and my sister-in-law, but we got along surprisingly well, especially given that we were both in an absurdly rich family. Then, one day, she came to me, bawling and clutching a photo in her hand. "Your brother is cheating on me! He has a family somewhere else! For more than ten years! I'm getting a divorce!" Crying, I showed her a message I got from my husband's mistress. "That bastard Christopher has a mistress! I'm leaving this home!"

At our wedding ceremony, Rose Lane's assistant, Zachary Zimmer, accidentally projects the wrong photo on the screen. The huge screen initially shows a wedding portrait of Rose and me. But suddenly, it turns into a photo featuring Rose and Zachary in wedding clothes. Both of them held hands with each other while looking into each other's eyes lovingly. It was clear that they looked very happy together. Everyone gasps in shock. Zachary begins sobbing quietly and asks if I can delay the wedding. Rose remains calm and collected as she starts throwing out suggestions to me. "The guests are already here, so it'll be embarrassing for us if we delay the wedding ceremony. Besides, it also spells ill luck for us if we do that. No one recognizes the groom's face anyway. Why don't we let Zachary replace you in this ceremony for now?" All of our friends are stunned, to say the least. They think I'll go ballistic and get incredibly jealous because of Rose's suggestion. Instead, I nod and claim that it's a great idea. Noting my composed manner, Rose smugly declares that we've already registered our marriage, so she promises me that she will hold another wedding for me when she's free enough. But she seems to have forgotten that she's signed a divorce agreement just now.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

On the day of my 30th birthday, my CEO wife, Sabrina Langford, leaves hurriedly at 3:00 am. She claims that there's something urgent going on at the company and that she won't be home the whole day. Later on, Timothy Cross, the low-income university student that Sabrina has been sponsoring, updates his social media feed. In the photo, I see Sabrina standing at the side of the road in a bikini. Two big apples are balanced on her 36D bust. The caption of the photo is, "The beautiful and hot CEO has personally come over to my house to help me sell the homegrown apples. You'll regret it if you don't buy these apples from me!" My brows are drawn into a frown immediately. When I call Sabrina, the call goes through rather quickly. "I told you I'm very busy at the company right now. If you disturb me again, I'm not going to forgive you this easily!" After that, Sabrina ends the call. But right before the call gets cut off, I can hear a car honking in her background. I'm not mad at her at all. She likes helping others to sell fruits, right? I might as well lend her a helping hand. So, I share the social media post to the company's group chat. The message I've drafted is, "Does anyone here want a batch of rotten apples? I'll even throw in a second-hand wife for free."

Before taking over the next shift, I receive a huge amount of money from my work buddy, George Rowland. He has given me ten thousand dollars in total, and the remark on the transfer notes that it's the payment for the morning shift I've taken for him. "Hey Wilbur, I'm going back to my hometown and enjoy my new retired life. Have fun dealing with the night shift at the control room by yourself. "When I was patrolling the apartment yesterday, I got my hands on treasure that came out of nowhere. Now that I'm rich, I no longer have to deal with the residents anymore." With a grin, I curse George out for being unusually lucky. That guy is so stingy that he refuses to even buy himself a bottle of mineral water that's worth two dollars. To think that he actually struck the jackpot this time! I accept the money happily, thinking that I should take my younger sister out for a nice dinner once I get off work. Ten minutes later, George sends the clock-off photo of him handing the shift over to me on the work chat as usual. His caption reads, "I've gone through my final shift properly." The moment I make out the photo, I feel the hairs on my back rising. "Hello? Is this the police? A murder has taken place in Riverside Residences!"

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”