My Home Hero Novels & Stories

Before the company Ruby Lane and I built finally landed a multimillion-dollar funding, she had agreed that we would get married once the deal closed. But when I rushed to the celebration party that night, I saw Ruby kissing the investor, Jack Hunter, in front of everyone. Then, she proudly held up their marriage certificate. Jack took the microphone and said, "To prove I'm serious, I didn't just invest money into the company, I gave myself too! My wife will lead this company to even greater heights!" My colleagues all looked at me, expecting me to cause a scene. Instead, all I did was smile as I clapped. "That's great news! I wish both of you a happy life from now on and hope that the company goes public soon!" The entire room went into an uproar. After the party, Ruby pulled me aside to explain what happened. "Jack throws money at this project like it's nothing to him. He just wants to know what marriage feels like, that's all. Did you really have to act that childishly just now? "Once the company goes public, I'll divorce him. Then, I'll make it up to you by doubling the amount of shares you'll get. You can see the big picture, right?" I smiled and stepped back. "Don't bother. The share price would have crashed. We're done, Ruby."

"He is no hero, but he is willing to fight for her..." Abigail fucking Howard! Typical sweet girl, a nerdy girl who always has that cute button nose of hers buried inside a book. She wants to be an author and she's got what it takes. She has also got her whole life planned out. Study, get her degree, then get an internship in some publishing company and work her way to becoming the best selling author. I could also see her getting married to some preppy rich guy who is going to be a lawyer and then they'd have two kids and live happily ever after, cool story right? Wrong! I was wrong because Abigail wants me and the crazy thing is I want her too! I have for a long time but the problem is I am not good enough for her and I am mixed up in too many fucked up shits to be the man she wants me to be. I am not the hero she reads in those romance books of hers, I am no hero and I'll never be!

On my seventh wedding anniversary, I personally whip up a nice feast. But my husband, Davis Stark, only takes a few bites before telling me that he has something urgent to deal with at the company. I trail behind him the whole time, only to witness him walk into a fancy banquet hall, where a banquet is being held for his newborn fraternal twins. Davis even produces a black card and gives it to his secretary, Sonia Robertson, in a solemn manner. "Thank you for your hard work, Sonia. In the future, I will give all of my assets to the children." Sonia's expression lights up immediately. Then, she presses her lips against Davis' happily. "It's an honor to be able to give birth to your children, Mr. Stark." I let out a cold chuckle as I open the banquet hall's door. I want to see how on earth is Sonia capable of giving birth to Davis' children when he's already infertile, to begin with.

My sense of direction has always been terrible since young. Getting lost is a norm for me. When I was eight years old, I had to face the worst consequences of getting lost. That time, I almost got kidnapped by human traffickers. So, my older sister, Aubrey Cochran, gifts me a GPS watch and repeatedly teaches me how to use it. "As long as you follow the GPS, you can find your way home. Have you remembered it yet?" I nod heavily. Since then, the watch stays strapped onto my wrist. But later on, my adoptive mom has found her actual son. That's when the entire family's attitude toward me begins shifting. They no longer panic even when I don't return for the day. This year's Thanksgiving holidays are coming soon. Aubrey decides to take me on a trip out of the blue. Our trip lasts for more than a dozen days. Our last stop is a remote village. There, Aubrey takes my watch from me and fiddles with it for a long time. At the start of the next day, I can't get in touch with her no matter how hard I try. As I stare at the unfamiliar GPS coordinates on my watch, I feel realization dawning on me immediately. When I'm about to leave, a villager looks at me in confusion. "You're leaving too, eh? Where are you headed to?" I smile at her. "I'm going home." Since Aubrey doesn't want me anymore, I shall grant her wish.

I was an orphan being adopted by a simple family. My dad was a driver of a very powerful businessman. My mom was one of their maids. She was in fact their lady butler. This family with gazillion bank accounts had an only heir, drop dead gorgeous young billionaire, Albert Michaels. He was always the talk of the news both in mainstream and social media along with either a popular pop star diva or a hubristic socialite with voluptuous body and kittenish voice. I, Samantha Reynolds, one of their servants had been stealthily trailing him since the day that I stepped in their grand top of a kind living room. His stone cold aloof aura as he stared at me everytime he caught me gawking at him made him even more attractive and charming than he already was. Till one rainy night, a magical or should I say disaster happened. Arriving at home late and intoxicated while I was busy wiping the glass tea table, he was almost dropping himself on the cold marble floor. Guiding him towards his room, his heaviness was weighing up my petite body. Till we both dropped on his king sized bed with me under him. His glassy eyes tingling my long time desire. His warm rims made me want to wrap them with mine. Till time stood still as the rain continued pouring engulfing the atmosphere with its coldness while him covering me with his burning libido. As we both reached the top, he called a name, ''Madeline!'' D*mn!

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

He didn't stop when he reached her but leaned forward and kissed her hard, on the mouth. The air left her lungs. Maybe it was because it was her first kiss or because he had kissed her, she didn't know but her lungs were burning, her lips were on fire. She was one fire. It ended in a second. She stared at him with wide eyes as he stared back. His hand traced her forehead, nose, lips and then chin as it stopped on her throat. She knew, by God she knew he could feel her pulse, the heat on her cheeks. "I'm home." Dean Woodland left two years ago without a word or sound and now he is back to bring his belongings with him.

The night she comes back from her best friend's apartment after finding out her boyfriend is married, she meets a huge man sleeping on the snow in her backyard. 23-year old Charlie Jordan doesn't know what to do. After so many calls and studying, she finds out the man—Blurin Jameson— is an ex-militant whose address got mixed up on deployment day. It takes Charlie 419 Days to realize how her heart beats faster when ever they're near or when his eyes lights up... Or how she completes his amount of ribs.

After Charlene Downing's family goes into bankruptcy, I move into a basement with her. I have to work three jobs per day in order to help her rebuild her career. When Charlene finally succeeds in her career, she vows to give me a real home. On our third year of marriage, I accidentally notice the property deed of our marital home. The owner of this deed appears to be Charlene's first love, Travis Roach. With red-rimmed eyes, Charlene explains to me, "I owe him this much." I nod in return before pushing a pile of photos in her direction. These are photos of the I.O.U notes from back when we stayed in the basement. "You've already used our home to pay Travis back for what you owe him. Then what about the sum you owe me?"

We have a family group chat meant for the core members only. It's named "the Coppola family". The ones in the group are my father, my mother, my oldest brother, Fabio Coppola; my second brother, Luca Coppola, and my little sister, Francesca Coppola. Oh, that's not all. Fabio's bloodhound, Fido; Luca's ragdoll, Neve; and Francesca's fancy rat, Pico, are members of the group chat too. I'm the only one who's not included in that group. There's once when I ask Francesca, "Can you add me into the group?" She's in the middle of feeding Pico at that time. Without bothering to glance at me, she replies, "That group is meant for insiders only. Wouldn't you feel awkward if you were to join the group, Valentina?" I just look at Pico, who keeps screeching in Francesca's arms. It has a special nickname and the right to speak up in the family group. To think that I, the Coppolas' biological daughter, am nothing compared to a fancy rat.