Nami Live Action Novels & Stories

The mother of Mr. Burr, the hospital director, was critically ill and needed emergency surgery. My wife, wanting to help her beloved crush, Cedric Grey, take the spotlight, deliberately kept the surgery time from me. By the time I finally arrived—late, Mr. Burr stopped me from entering the operating room and scolded me harshly for being unprofessional and unethical. Once I realized what my wife was doing, I handed the lead surgeon position over to her beloved crush. “Well, since you're so eager to shine,” I said coldly, “you’d better not screw it up.” The nurses tried to talk me out of it. They said I was being impulsive, that this was a rare chance to prove myself. However, none of them knew that I was the only doctor in the entire country capable of performing this rare and complex heart valve surgery. Even if Cedric managed to buy time with some miracle drug and made it look like the patient was improving, without my diagnosis and surgical skills, the operation was doomed to fail. And when that happens, he’d be held responsible. As for my wife, her blind favoritism would come back to haunt her.

A lethal neurotoxin had taken hold of my lungs. My time is running out. My mother, Sofia, was the most connected lawyer in Palermo, excelling in burying crimes and twisting the law. When my brother Vincent mowed me down and shattered my leg, she called in every favor to clear his record. My father, Tommaso, the most feared private doctor in Sicily, faked my medical files, branding me unstable and delusional, all to mold me into the obedient son they needed. Then there was Lina, only daughter of Don Vitali, my wife. She said, “We let him out for Vincent’s liver. What if he says no?” Dad’s voice went cold. “He has two choices: lie quietly on that operating table… or waste away in the sanatorium for what’s left of his life.” I pushed the parlor door open, steady and slow. My voice was flat. “I’ll do it.” Every one of them let out a breath they’d been holding, showering me with hollow words. They didn’t know there was no life left to threaten. I had twenty-four hours. By sunrise, I would be dead either way. Funny… now that I’m in the ground, why are they all crying?

Just days after being discharged from the hospital, my husband’s adopted sister, Wendy Crowley, went live. Crying on a rooftop, she accused me of causing her miscarriage. "The ultrasound already showed it was a boy… and that woman took his life! "She can’t have children herself, so she couldn’t stand that I could. I want her to pay for my child’s death!" My husband, Tristan Crowley, believed every word. "Wendy, I failed to protect you. If I’d known she hated you this much, I would’ve locked her away long ago." The livestream sparked outrage. Everyone demanded justice. "This is murder. She’s rotten to the core!" "Where’s the law? Lock her up immediately!" However, when Tristan and Wendy tracked me down–still streaming live–everyone watching… broke down in tears.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

“Are you trying to punish me? I…I don't know how many times I can apologize even if it wasn't my fault that I almost—” “I never asked you to. You do whatever you want, Niya, and I really don't care. Neither should you bother with what I do.” “You're hurt. You're hurt, Alex, and you're acting out. Don't worry we could talk this through. This isn't you.” I try to reach him again but he shoots me a deadly glare that pierces through my skin like a dagger. “Sure it is. You've just never seen me like this. You don't know what I look like when I'm not in love with you,” his brows grow together. “Now we’ve had enough of your drama. You'll find the papers and enjoy the party or use the fucking door.” He pulls away and my eyes cloud again. My ears and heart find it hard to process what is actually going on. The looks on their faces tell me it is awfully too late—I have already lost everything. “Niya, careful now,” my grandmother slowly tugs at my arm as if that will somehow make everything better. “We have guests. Don’t cause a scene.” A scene? I have literally just seen a whole movie, ma. ************* My name is Niya Kendrick. I’m 25, an author who once believed she had the perfect life. But how quickly can everything I love be stripped away in the blink of an eye? Or worse, what if the life, the family I’ve cherished has always been a blatant lie, a mere fragment of the truth? Now, I’m awake, and reality is far harsher than any dream.

Nine years into our marriage, Linda Chancers was constantly surrounded by admirers. She enjoyed captivating inexperienced young men, making them infatuated with her.I understood and accepted it while she took pleasure in it.We continued quietly like this for nine years. It wasn’t until the day I achieved success and left without looking back. That night, Linda smashed everything in the house and grabbed my collar, screaming, "So, all these years, you've never loved me!"Love?What I loved, what I wanted, was nothing more than status and wealth.

Luna's world revolved around Cedric, her childhood sweetheart and husband. She gave him her whole heart, believing in their destiny, only to find him growing cold, neglectful, and ultimately, unfaithful. He secretly found love elsewhere, leaving Luna heartbroken and alone in their own home. Amidst her devastation, a silent observer emerges: Arthur, Cedric's formidable uncle. Powerful and respected, Arthur, though reserved, has always been there in Luna's darkest moments. He's watched her pain, her tears, and every instance of her being undervalued. One night, shattered by proof of Cedric's betrayal, Luna makes a desperate proposal to Arthur. Knowing Arthur's immense influence and Cedric's obsession with pride, Luna devises a plan: they will pretend to be lovers to make Cedric jealous, regret his mistakes, and long for her return. Arthur agrees instantly, for he has secretly loved Luna for years, keeping his feelings hidden while she belonged to his nephew. What begins as a calculated charade slowly turns real. Arthur's tenderness, respect, and profound admiration—a stark contrast to Cedric's neglect—begin to heal Luna's wounded heart. She finds herself opening up and falling for the man who truly sees her worth. Now, Luna is caught between two men: the husband who once took her for granted but now desperately wants her back, and the uncle who loves her unconditionally, willing to move mountains for her happiness. Who will she choose in this intricate game of hearts?

A young woman, on the brink of death, has her life eternally changed forever. Sloan refuses to play the victim and becomes a strong Bounty Hunter who only needs to count on herself for survival. Her mission is to take down the scum of the earth, in hopes to save an innocent victim from sharing in her trauma. She enjoys her life of solitude, but what happens when she has a run-in with a soon to be Alpha while she's after a murderer? Will they tear each other apart or will Sloan find herself part of something she never imagined? Copyright ©2021 by Cc Lopez. All rights reserved.

In the third year that I've been diagnosed with late-stage bone cancer, Xenia Jensen, the ex-girlfriend whom I have "abandoned" back then, barges into my rented apartment with the rest of her team that she leads as a police captain. Every day, I have to rely on large amounts of morphine just so I can force myself to stand like a regular human being. I can only twitch violently as I try to grab a pill bottle on the table, my skin completely riddled with needle marks. Xenia chuckles icily as she savors how pathetic I look. "Oh? It's been seven years since we last met, and yet I never thought you'd stoop so low as to become a drug addict. "Where did your gusto to get a better, richer girlfriend go? I can't believe you're willing to humiliate yourself just for some so-called medicine!" As soon as Xenia's words fall, I point at the pill bottle with a trembling finger. "Please, officer… Can you please give me my medicine?" Xenia chortles in response. She picks up the bottle before walking toward the bathroom, soon flushing it down the toilet. "You want your medicine? Go ask the peeps at the rehab for it! It seems both your heart and your body are rotten to the core after you left me for another woman!" I'm in so much pain that I'm convulsing violently right now. "Oh… Then… Am I going to die?" I curl up on the floor, hoping to tide over the latest wave of pain by using the method my doctor has taught me. But Xenia merely gazes at me coldly from the side. In fact, she starts recording me, saying that she wants to make me a living negative example.

A week after my engagement, I was delivered an unusual engagement gift. My phone chimed. I glanced down and saw a push notification from a social app. [Fell in love with a female livestreamer right before my engagement. I feel guilty toward my older girlfriend who's about to become my fiancée—how should I deal with this?] The user ID was "SimonLovesClaire." The profile picture showed a melancholy side view of a man wrapped in a gray scarf. I recognized him instantly. It was my fiancé, Simon Aldrich. That limited-edition scarf was the birthday gift I had given him last year.