Round Foldable Dining Table Novels & Stories

My neighbor's daughter is sick, and my mother forces me to donate a kidney to her. I've been malnourished since childhood—just drawing blood is enough to cost me my life. However, my mother says, "What does your death matter to me? Rhea is my actual daughter!" Only then do I learn that my mother switched me and our wealthy next-door neighbor's daughter at birth! I glance at my neighbor's daughter, but she's calm and unaffected. I watch as my mother signs the consent form for the operation. My father ties me to the operating table, and my brother performs the surgery. I have no strength to retaliate, so I make one last request—a DNA test with my mother. She agrees—she wants me to stop holding out hope. Later, I forget everything after the surgery, but she breaks down.

My daughter was born with silver poisoning in her blood—passed down from me—which made it hard for her to sense her wolf, and even harder for her to shift. I worked tirelessly, taking on every job I could, to earn enough money to find a cure for her. One night during a late shift, I saw her. My daughter, dressed like a princess in an elegant, Silverlight-woven gown, sat at a table in a high-end restaurant. With her was my mate—supposedly bedridden and paralyzed—wearing a tailored haute couture suit. Across the table sat the famous she-wolf of our pack, the daughter of a respected elder. They had ordered a lavish dinner, the bill totaling over $500,000. After the meal, I overheard my mate ask our daughter, “You remember how to tell the story, right?” She nodded and replied, “Yes. I’ll tell Mom we were working as werewolf junk collectors all night, collecting waste paper crates, and in the end, we only earned enough to buy half a loaf of bread.” My mate smiled, pleased with the answer. The she-wolf then gifted my daughter an entire collection of newly released moonstone jewelry. Before they left, my mate tipped each waitress $5,000. I stood frozen, tears falling as the truth shattered my heart: my mate—and even my beloved daughter—had been lying to me. Even in dormancy, my wolf mourned. A colleague saw me crying and asked what was wrong. I forced a smile and said, “I’m just happy. I got $5,000 tonight. It would’ve been even better… if it hadn’t come from my mate, the one who’s supposed to be paralyzed and lying in bed.” No one knew what I had sacrificed to be his mate. I waited for an apology. But it never came. So I made my decision. I called my father—the one who had been waiting all these years for me to return as his heir. When I disappeared from their lives, just as they had always secretly wished... That’s when they finally began searching for me across the world.

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

Marie’s mum is dying, and her only bet at survival is an expensive surgery that they could never afford. Driven by desperation, she seeks her step mother’s help, a brothel owner who gives her the condition of sleeping with an old rich client of hers. Disgusted and unable to do so, Marie finds solace in a city bar and unexpectedly finds herself talking to a stranger. Their conversation is easy, and somehow they manage to get drunk and have a steamy night together. When Marie wakes up to leave in shame and quiet, she sees his expensive golden Rolex wristwatch on the side table and makes a quick and risky decision then and there. Eight years later, on her first day of work at Prime Telecoms, she bumps into the stranger from her one-night stand years ago. Not only is he the CEO of the company, he is also the father of her daughter, and the man she stole worth hundreds of thousands of dollars from. And now, he won't let her go.

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

“I don't want anything to do with her, I would rather marry her mother than marry her.” Manny felt insulted. Angry, she slammed her fist on the table, picked up the papers that needed signing and then tore them into pieces. ***** Manny, a lady with a perfect life and heiress to Millicent's fashion house, is constantly pressured by her mother to get married and have a baby. But haunted by the heartbreaks of her past relationships, she makes a bold decision to undergo IVF. What happens when she discovers that there has been a mix-up and now she's carrying the child of Andrew Cooper, an arrogant billionaire with a reputation as formidable as his wealth and who won't let her keep her baby? Will she win this baby war? Andrew Cooper, billionaire and CEO of a multi-billion dollar company hires a surrogate but everything spirals into chaos and now a fat lady carries his child. He is determined to collect the child from her even if it means digging up her past

Before the wedding,Serena Williams caught her fiance with his mistress who is also her best friend. Angrily she called of the wedding and in a bid for revenge she ended up in her ex’s bed . Ben Blackwood is the CEO of the Blackwood Group . He is not only the richest man in the city but also very powerful and the most eligible bachelor. Rumors had it that he is ruthless and cold hearted. Her chest tightened. “He ruined me. Now, I want to return the favor.” Silence stretched between them. Then, suddenly, Ben tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Serena,” he murmured. “But lucky for you… I love danger.” Before she could react, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a slow, searing kiss. It was nothing like Jake’s touch Ben was in complete control, every movement deliberate, calculated. He tasted of whiskey and power, of promises wrapped in sin. He kissed like a starving wolf ,cruel and teasing ,savoring her surrender before the kill . He was dangerous,but she couldn’t resist . She held on to him tightly, her legs brushing against his side ,a breathing moan escaped her lips . His hands trails up her body ,pushing under her shirt to cup her soft round breast . His teasing touch made shudder as she let out a trembling plea “ is this good enough Mr Blackwood?” “Got to say you’re pretty good”he smirked.

His steel gray eyes pierced into hers, and Rose felt like he become luring her into his daJA abyss. She took worried steps backward, however she didn't understand that he cherished the chase and derived pride from looking her run.She knew she couldn't run nor conceal from him, but there has been no different choice. He without difficulty cornered her in opposition to the wall, trapping her there. considered one of his arms snaked round her tiny waist, and the other caged her among himself and the wall. "tell me what you need, Rose," he stated, his hot breath fanning her neck. The moonlight cast a shadow on him, making him appear to be the satan he was. "What I need is to tug you to hell in which humans like you belong," she seethed. He let out a raw, deep giggle that had her insides twisting."And you suspect you will go away hell after dragging me there? interesting," James chuckled. "i'll ensure you might not get out of there. i'll make certain you have got nowhere else to run however my arms. My call can be the handiest factor you can pronounce as it might be the simplest element you think about, and whilst that occurs, you will be absolutely mine, Rose," he stated sinisterly. Trapped among love and struggle, Rose need to sail through if she intends to protect the humans she loves.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

I am heading to my job interview when my close friend, Thomas Lang—the same guy who always cautions me about meddling in other people's business—suddenly throws caution to the wind and sprints toward the wrecked limousine. I instantly realize that Thomas has been reborn, too. In my past life, Thomas and I were the top two graduates of the finance department, both making it to the final round of interviews at a Fortune 500 conglomerate. Yet, on the day of the interview, we suddenly came across the CEO, Ruth Gibson, who had just gotten involved in a car crash. I abandoned the interview to save her, while Thomas hurried off to the interview. In the end, Thomas landed the offer, while I lost my shot at working at the top conglomerate. I received sympathy from everyone around me. However, Ruth sought me out eventually, and in the spirit of profound gratitude, she presented me with an immediate proposal of marriage. I became the man who would marry Thomas' superior, achieving incredible status overnight. Meanwhile, Thomas stayed an ordinary worker, perpetually crushed by impossible metrics and corporate pressure. I was enjoying the heights of my privilege at the annual dinner, standing beside Ruth, while Thomas lurked in the background. He was a miserable face lost among the nameless guests. Consumed by jealousy, he brandished a knife and stabbed me to death right there. I suddenly open my eyes and realize we are both back at this single, pivotal day of Ruth's accident.