Mha Text Novels & Stories

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

During the holidays, my husband, Andrew Hartwell, flakes out on the vacation trip we've planned in advance once again. He has to go on a business trip in another state at the very last minute. But the next moment I know, I stumble upon a social media post uploaded by his assistant, Chloe Miller, that features a photo of them lying on the beach side by side while sunbathing. The caption reads, "Mr. Hartwell watched the moon with me last month, and he's now watching the sea with me on this vacation. Everyone, please help me brainstorm which location he'll have to take me during the next holiday! P.S. That location has to be super pretty for photo-taking sessions. After all, Mr. Hartwell looks super handsome in the photos!" Everyone begins throwing out ideas and suggestions in the comment section. I pause for two seconds before leaving behind a comment calmly. "Why not the city hall? Not only is it a nice place, but you two can also receive a marriage certificate of your own." The colleagues, who know about my marriage with Andrew, are stunned, to say the least. Soon, they quickly text each other and start harboring guesses on the way I'm about to get jealous and start a fight with Andrew. Meanwhile, Andrew is quick to call me on the phone impatiently. "Why are you this petty? What's wrong with me sunbathing with Chloe? Can't I take a break on my business trip? "So what if I skip out on spending time with you? Must you kick up such a ruckus? I want you to delete your comment right now! Otherwise, others might view Chloe differently! "Besides, we're already married! There are so many holidays in the future. I'll just spend time with you on the next one!" As I listen to Andrew's stale excuse, I can't help but scoff. There's no more next time. Once the holiday is over, we'll have already received our divorce decree.

My roommate, Andrew Hayes, has become obsessed with this viral tiramisu place off campus. Every night without fail, he brings a box of it back. He tries to sell us on it more than once. Supposedly the texture is silky and rich, and it melts in the mouth. I just can't be bothered to care. Everything changes on the day before the grad school recommendation list is posted. My pen is moving across the page of a paper when something at the edge of my vision suddenly catches my eye. A few lines of text have appeared. [Tonight, your roommate, Andrew, will ask you to help him buy tiramisu from that viral dessert shop. After he eats it, he'll rush out of the dorm. The next day, the police will take you away on charges of aggravated assault. [Online exposés will say you attacked your roommate out of jealousy, and the Internet will explode with outrage. Relentless cyberbullying will consume your life. Even your parents will get dragged down with you and lose their steady jobs. Ultimately, you'll be driven into a mental breakdown and die from depression.] I figure I've started hallucinating after finally cracking under the pressure, so I toss the workbook aside. That night, Andrew pushes open the dorm room door. His tone is easy and familiar as he asks, "Luke, grab me a tiramisu on your way back, okay?" My brain blanks for a second. This scene matches the prediction word for word. Andrew's smile is bright and sunny as he walks closer, but I only feel a chill down my spine because of one of the prediction's sentences. [After you're taken in for questioning, you'll miss your interview. The guaranteed grad school spot will fall right into Andrew's lap.] Is Andrew really going to ruin my entire life over a single guaranteed grad school slot? My grip tightens around my pen. I say, "Sorry, Andrew. It's not really convenient for me."

One week before our wedding, my fiance, Ashton Fraser, suddenly cancels the world-tour wedding trip that I've been preparing for the past two years. Thinking that he's misclicked something, I turn on my tablet and am about to ask the wedding planner what's going on when I see the WhatsApp on the tablet syncing with the version Ashton has on his phone. That's when numerous text messages from one of Ashton's friends begin popping up. "Wait, did you seriously cancel your fiancee's world-tour wedding trip just because you wanted to fulfill Mariah's wish? You even entrusted the authority to organize your wedding to Mariah? "I'm not exaggerating when I say this wedding is practically your fiancee's life's work! Everyone knows that she went so far as to force herself to continue planning the wedding even when she relapsed from her cardiac arrest! Aren't you worried that she might not marry you at all once she finds out about this?" With a trembling finger, I tap on the notification. Ashton replies to the friend nonchalantly, "Laura has already given her life to me; why would she care about how her wedding goes? Mariah wants to try her hand at organizing a wedding. This is her dream. "Don't worry. Laura cares more about this wedding than anyone else in this world. She's even willing to cut half of her heart just for me. Clearly, she loves me to the moon and back. Even if she finds out about this matter, she will never have the heart to leave me. At most, she'll only throw a tantrum that lasts for a few days. I'll make sure to coax her properly when the time comes." I take a deep breath to suppress the irregular rate at which my heart is beating at the moment. Then, I tell another man, "Are you interested in getting married? I still need a groom for my wedding."

My girlfriend, Kiara Sommer, gets one of her legs crippled in order to save me. Her adopted younger brother, Cain Fullton, suffers from heart failure after shielding us from harm. Since then, his heart becomes extremely weak, and he has to rely on the expensive imported medication just to survive. In order to gather enough money for their surgical bills, I take on a body-casting job in the black market. Not only are my limbs encased in scalding hot silicon, but I also have to endure it whenever a few female perverts cop a feel of me. I can't even move an inch when I'm doing my job. After all, I'll have to compensate for the damages if I ruin the mold. I can only grit my teeth and endure the agony, only to get slapped a few times in the face afterward. "You already have the guts to take on a job like this, and yet you're frightened of getting groped?" As I withstand the humiliation and the burning pain, I return to the hospital with the money in hopes of buying more medicine for Cain. When I walk past a VIP lounge, I hear familiar laughter erupting from within. "Kia, this is the 998th test, right? Once Shane passes 999 tests, are you really going to marry him?" Kiara frowns slightly at the question, though she soon replies coolly, "Yeah. The tests stem from my family's rules, and you're ordered to serve as the supervisor. But still, don't go overboard, yeah? Shane is the only one meant to be my husband." So, Kiara lies to me and torments me to this point just so she can marry me? As I stare at my broken and bruised reflection in the mirror, I feel my lips curling into a smile all of a sudden. With trembling hands, I dig out the old phone that I haven't used for the past two years. My eyes slowly redden as well. Then, I draft a text message. "I regret everything now, Winona. Please take me home."

Four years ago, at my mating ceremony with Alpha Damien, a witch publicly prophesied: "The powerful Alpha will betray the mate bond." Damien unleashed a terrifying wave of Alpha dominance on the spot, forcing the witch to her knees. He gripped my hand tightly and declared before the entire pack that I was his one and only mate. For three years of our marriage, he was flawless—devoted, attentive, beyond reproach. Until a year ago, when he was gravely wounded during a border patrol and rescued by a stunningly beautiful rogue Omega named Selene. Selene fell for Damien at first sight. She even knelt at his feet in front of me, crying: "I don't want anything in return. Just let me stay near you—I'd be your mistress with no title if that's what it takes." Damien shoved her away without hesitation and coldly ordered her placed at the edge of the territory, never allowing her within arm's reach. In that moment, I trusted him completely. I believed our mate bond was unbreakable. Selene asked seductively. "Alpha, who's better in bed—me, or your dignified little Luna? Your cock fucks me so good every time." Damien's low, ragged breathing filled the audio. He slapped her ass and warned coldly: "Don't get ideas above your station. Elena is my only Luna. You're just a bitch I use to blow off steam." Selene pouted with a coy whine: "I'll happily be your bitch as long as you keep fucking me." The video ended. Immediately after, an anonymous text popped up: "You sit in the Luna's seat. I'm in the Alpha's bed. Now we're even." I sat there all night, silently printing out a termination agreement for our mate bond. Since that's how it is, then I'll grant your wish. But after I left, the powerful Alpha went mad.

Right after I get accepted to my rich biological family, I become my older sister, Josie Sonnenfeld's marriage replacement. In the first marriage alliance, Josie despises the fact that her partner, Zane Lowry, is a hedonistic playboy who can't even hold down a job. On the day of their engagement, she's fled all the way to another country with another man. I pin Zane down and teaches him how to cook up a perfect scheme so that he can overtake his arrogant half-brother who happens to be a bastard son. In the second marriage alliance, Josie looks down on Benjamin Shaw, a low-income college student who comes from an ordinary family. On their wedding day, she makes sure to humiliate him in front of everyone before ditching him at the altar. With the money I've saved up, I spend one long, grueling year in the basement with Benjamin as he works hard to establish his success. I'm with him until the day he becomes the director of the National Research Institute. In the third marriage alliance, Josie scowls in disgust when she realizes Rowan Gallagher is a total momma's boy. She wastes no time traveling to a tropical island with her male best friend afterward. As for me, I walk into the stressful-looking manor and drag the cowardly Rowan out. By the time I'm done reshaping him, he has succeeded in taking over every single business belonging to his family. Three years later, Josie, who has spent every single cent overseas, has no choice but to return to the country while heavily pregnant. "Thanks for watching over these losers in my stead, Laura. Now that I'm back, you can get lost now." Josie intends to pick one out of her three ex-fiances to become her unborn baby's father. Meanwhile, I tap on a group chat titled "Happy Family" and sends a text there. "Josie is back for you three." Everyone in the group chat instantly goes haywire. The men are quick to proclaim their love and loyalty toward me. "Don't worry, honey! Our hearts and bodies are yours!"

It has been three years since I traveled back in time, but today, I stumbled upon a helicopter hidden right inside the manor’s yard. Looking down at my crippled leg, my husband, Ethan Miller, decided to finally drop the act. “Three years ago, you couldn’t accept the fact that I was marrying Vanessa and that you were just the mistress,” he said. “So, we had no choice but to trick you into believing you had traveled back in time, just to keep you locked up here. After serving as a maidservant and an unofficial mistress here for three years, I’d say you’ve finally learned your lesson.” I stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, the steward standing beside him ripped off a mask, revealing himself to be my brother, Logan York. “Eva, now that Vanessa has safely given birth to her baby, you can finally go back,” Logan said carelessly. Then, he turned to someone else and added, “Hudson, your plan was absolutely flawless!” I slowly turned my head to look. The manor’s resident physician was standing there, smiling right at me. “You didn’t mistake my identity back then. I am your childhood friend, Hudson Jones,” he admitted. “We only set up this entire illusion because we were afraid you would hurt Vanessa.” For three long years, I believed I had traveled back in time. During this time, I was beaten, sold off, violated by countless strangers, and eventually bought by Ethan to be kept as a broken slave and mistress. By now, I had lost the use of my legs and was completely blind in one eye. I went from crying day and night, begging to go home, to living a numb, submissive existence. However, as it turned out, I had never traveled through time at all. The reality of it all made me break down. Just as I was about to end my life, an eerie line of text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Congratulations to the tragic AI female protagonist for awakening. Countdown to reincarnating as a real human: Two days.] [Countdown: 48 hours.] [Countdown: 47 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.]

We have just finished our classes for the day when Nicholas Wolfe tells me that he's going to a concert with his junior, Madeline Cross. "I'm heading over to the venue right now. I can't let Madeline wait for me, after all." Nicholas sounds so casual, as though he's talking about the weather. I arrange my textbooks neatly before putting them into my bag. "Okay." My response leaves Nicholas stunned. He pauses in the middle of typing a text to Madeline before raising his head to look at me. "Madeline and I are about to watch the concert performed by The Paxleys, your favorite band. Are you… not mad at me at all?" I zip my bag while replying calmly, "Nope." I've begged Nicholas 99 times to watch the concert with me. On the 100th time, he finally buys two tickets… for himself and Madeline. I'm not surprised in the slightest. Ever since Madeline transferred to our university, I've started to get used to Nicholas prioritizing her over me. I sling my bag onto my shoulder and begin making my way to the classroom's exit. Nicholas doesn't move an inch. But when I'm about to leave, he catches up with me and grips my wrist. "Lia, we'll travel to Sorenton three days later. The Paxleys will be holding another concert there. I'll attend that concert with you. "That day is our third-year anniversary, so I definitely won't bail out on you." I look down at Nicholas' hand that's gripping me, then I look up at him. This time, my lips curl into a smile. "Okay." Over the past six months, Nicholas has promised me to do things "next week" nine times, and said "I'll definitely show up" 13 times, and "don't worry" 16 times. But he's bailed out on me every single time he makes plans with me. Next week, we won't be attending the concert together, that's for sure. After all, I'm the one bailing on him this time.

I, Daphne Thorn, am an impoverished woman from the slums. William Blackburn, on the other hand, is the son of the richest man in Wylland. Unexpectedly, the two of us who share such vastly different identities end up being together. So far, we've tried out various difficult positions in our bouts of passion during our secret rendezvouses in secluded areas. Like the madman he is, William often torments me in every session. I'm so exhausted that I'm about to fall asleep. That's when a notification pops up on William's phone, which is sitting next to me. So, I take a peek at it. "William, my stomach hurts a lot! I'm suffering so much right now!" It's a text from someone named "Ellie". All the exhaustion in me disappears. I can feel my chest tightening up in discomfort. Once William is done with his shower, he leaves the bathroom and picks up his phone. "You should sleep first. I'm heading out," he says. When I see William turning his back on me, I blurt out, "Are you going to meet that childhood sweetheart of yours?" William wheels around to look at me. Suddenly, he moves to lift my chin. There is a trace of wariness in his eyes. "Don't go around sticking your nose in my business, Daphne. I like my woman docile and obedient." But I end up stalking William all the way to Royale Hotel, where I witness him visiting Elaine Moore, his childhood sweetheart. He coaxes her as though she's the most precious treasure in the world. I don't have the courage to question William in person. But still, I want to know who he thinks is more important to him—me or Elaine? So, I give him a call. "William, my gastritis is acting up again! It hurts so much! Can you drive me to the hospital?" I said. I use the same tactic that Elaine had used earlier. That night, I keep waiting for William, and yet he never returns to me. That's when I decide to not love him anymore.