Mha Text Novels & Stories

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.

I was in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend. It had been three years, and he never let me go to him. I cried, I protested, and I even shouted at him. Alas, all he did was give me a tired answer. "It's for your own good, Wendy." I shut up because that really was the truth. I had made frequent trips to him during the first year we were together. The first time I went, I forgot to turn off the stove, and the fire burned my house down. The second time I went, the elevator I took malfunctioned. I was locked inside for hours. The loss of oxygen nearly knocked me out. Then, the third time came. I didn't think my luck would be this rotten, but it was. On my way to the airport, I ran into a car crash and stayed in the ICU for three days. Since then, he came to me. The fateful day came. My company sent me on a trip to Imperia. I didn't tell Chris and prayed to God that this trip would go smoothly. My prayers were answered, and the plane landed smoothly. I was so excited about my change in luck. I was about to text Chris to tell him all about it when I turned around and saw him standing among the crowd of people picking up the passengers. He was holding a bouquet of roses. I thought either my friend told him, or we were secretly telepathic. Just when I was going to approach him, I saw him smiling at a girl and pulling her into his embrace. Then, they kissed.

I have an ability in which I can see the countdown to someone's emotional departure. The day Dad's countdown hits zero, he leaves behind divorce papers and abandons Mom and me. The day my best friend's countdown hits zero, she finally dumps her jerk of a boyfriend. I'm always terrified of seeing a countdown appear above Levi Hammond's head. But thankfully, seven years into our marriage, his head is still clear. I am thankful every day that I married a good man. However, when he picks me up from work last month, I look up and see bright red text burning into my vision. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] That's less than two years from now. My heart clenches, and I frantically search for answers in my head. Have I done something wrong? Has he changed his mind? Things don't fall into place until our anniversary, when we run into his intern, Belinda Manning, outside his office building during a torrential downpour. She's soaked to the skin, but she still has a bright smile on her face. Levi hands her a pack of tissues to dry off, his face unreadable. However, in that instant, the countdown suddenly jumps. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] The number of days has dropped by more than 300. The sound of rain is deafening in my ears. But I know now that I have found the reason for it.

When my younger sister, Paige Nielson, was three months pregnant, she was struck by a car, killing her and her unborn baby on the spot. My CEO wife, Christina Ashmore, vowed vengeance on the driver; that he shall pay the price with his own life. But when she found out that the accused is actually Roland Burstyn, her first love who had disappeared for the past seven years, she decided to sign the letter of forgiveness on my behalf. Afraid that I might secretly sue Roland once again, Christina had me admitted into a psychiatric hospital. Throughout the next three years, I had six ribs broken by others, not to mention I lost an eye as well. When the psychiatric hospital is found to not have all legal credentials that can keep it running, I'm finally released from its confines. When Christina and I meet again, she pats me off-handedly on the shoulder. "I'm only able to reunite with Roland after so long, so I can't handle the pain of losing him again. Anyway, I already bought Paige the best graveyard plot one can afford. Roland doesn't owe you anything now. As long as you don't target him, I can keep supporting you financially." I don't respond to Christina at all. Instead, I text my dad, whom I've cut ties with for a decade. "I can forgive you, but it comes with a condition. You need to avenge me."

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."

On my birthday, I go out to eat with my family. I make a wish, hoping that we will always stay happily together. When I open my eyes, I see my son, Luigi Marino, holding up his tablet. On the screen, a line of text reads, "Dad, Maria says she's pregnant with your baby. Am I going to get a new mom?" Giovanni Marino is busy taking pictures of me with a Polaroid. He glances at the screen casually before writing a reply on the back of the photo. "No. I made a promise with your mom. If either of us betrays the other, we will have to disappear from the other's life forever. I can't live without your mom. So, you have to help me keep this from her. Even if Maria's baby is born, they will never appear in front of your mom." After writing that, he looks at me and asks in a gentle voice, "What's wrong, my love? Why are your eyes red? Did the smoke from the candles irritate them?" My tears are about to fall, but I force a smile and reply, "I'm fine. The birthday gift you all prepared for me is wonderful. I'm so touched that I can't help but cry." He doesn't know that my dyslexia was cured a week ago. It seems I no longer have to hesitate about the job offer from a well-known international nonprofit that teaches children with dyslexia how to read. The paperwork will be done in seven days. When that time comes, I will disappear from their world completely.

I never thought I'd end up severely injured and lose my baby on my wedding day. That day, I walked toward my husband full of excitement, only to watch him rush right past me and straight into the arms of his secretary. Confused, I turned around and saw someone in a wedding dress lying on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. It was his secretary, Quinn Fable. Steve York, my soon-to-be husband, panicked and scooped her up, but Quinn stared at me with tearful eyes, crying, “Summer, I ate the candy you gave me… Why would you want to hurt my baby? Please, Steve, save our child… please…” Steve was beside himself with rage. Without a second thought, he kicked me hard in the stomach. I collapsed into the champagne tower, shards of glass embedding into my skin. Blood poured from between my legs. Yet, they still clung to each other, crying bitterly as if I didn't exist. When the ambulance arrived, they didn't even hesitate to push me aside to save her first. “Forget about her!” Steve shouted. “Save Quinn! She's lost so much blood. She must be in terrible pain! As for Summer, that vicious witch… she deserves to die!” Due to the delay, I suffered a ruptured uterus and missed the window for proper treatment. And as if that wasn't enough, Steve personally announced that our marriage was null and void. He marched straight to the clerk's office with Quinn and made it official. On my ICU bed, I received a text from him. “Pack your things and get out. Quinn wants you out of her sight.”

I've been drinking milk since young, so my body is far more mature compared to my peers. When I'm 18 years old, my protective older sister, Yvonne Gibson, is worried that I might get my cherry stolen by others via trickery, so she specifically asks her best friend, Jasmine Joyner, to take care of me. But during our first meeting, Jasmine's gaze never leaves my crotch. After my graduation, I lead a double life. During daytime, Jasmine is my boss. At night, I'm her bed partner. Throughout our four-year secret relationship, I'm slowly molded into the lover Jasmine likes the most. Four years later, Jasmine's ex-fiance, Ethan Sawyer, has returned to the country. She quickly jumps out of bed and hurries to the airport in order to pick him up. I endure my physical discomfort the best I can as I follow her to the airport. An hour ago, Jasmine's soft body is entangled with mine. But now, she allows another man to embrace her right in front of my eyes. "Marcel Gibson, you climbed into my bed and took advantage of my intoxication four years ago. You're being unreasonable right now, and it's really getting old." The way Jasmine gazes at Ethan is very tender. The way she looks at me while mocking me is also awfully serious. I also think that things between us are getting old as well, so I text Yvonne and tell her to accept the Roberts family's marriage proposal on my behalf. Then, I look up at Jasmine with a smile. "Okay. Goodbye, then."

On the eve of my wedding, the drug effects of the sleeping pills have faded away. That's how I find myself waking up amid the rambunctious laughter in the master suite of the estate. As soon as I open my eyes, I see my luxurious custom-fitted wedding gown being shredded into pieces by Trevor Gibson's female best friend, Sophia Lynch. She toys with the scissors as she jokes around in front of her phone, where a livestream is ongoing. "Helena is no lady of the house! At the end of the day, I can still manipulate her as though she were a maggot!" Trevor's friends agree with her loudly. "Trevor was the one who laced her milk with sleeping pills, to begin with. Anyone else would've slept like a log!" The comment section is filled with mocking comments directed at me. Meanwhile, Trevor just pats Sophia on the head dotingly. "You must be done venting your anger by now, right? Be a good girl and turn off the livestream. If Helena wakes up and kicks up a fuss, it'll be difficult for tomorrow's wedding to proceed." Once everyone leaves the master suite, Trevor sits by the bed and tucks me in. "Sophia mustn't get triggered at all due to her depression. I'll only deal with you later. Anyway, I've already arranged for a plane to fly in a new wedding gown for you as we speak. Honestly speaking, that gown fits you even more." I can only grip the covers quietly. Then, I fire a text at Jordan Scott. "I'm not going to get married now. Are you still sticking to that promise you gave me back then?"

My chosen mate, Alpha Wyatt, promised that we would finally have our bonding ceremony on the night of the full moon. But every year, he would delay it over some ridiculous bet. Every single time, he was so certain that I loved him enough to forgive him endlessly. This year, he lost my Luna necklace to a female wolf named Harper for an entire year. He wore the exact same playfully apologetic look on his face as the last few times. "I'm so sorry, babe. It was just a bet, but I'm an Alpha. I can't go back on my word." "Don't worry. Next year on the full moon, I promise I'll give you an unforgettable bonding ceremony." But this time, I calmly took off the mate-to-be ring he gave me and dropped it on the floor. "Don't bother. We're done." He didn't know that I wasn't just some ordinary, orphaned Omega. I am Valerie Sterling, the only daughter of the Alpha King. To escape my father's arrangements and the fated mate the Moon Goddess chose for me, I hid my name and my bloodline, stubbornly searching for a chosen mate of my own. For three years, I thought Wyatt was the one. Today, I realized how wrong I was. I gazed down at the text message from Leon, my father's Beta: "Lady Valerie, the Alpha King has reserved the last three days for the Heir Declaration. The private jet is on standby. He is waiting for you to come home." I didn't hesitate anymore. "I'll be there in three days."