Terribly Sorry Novels & Stories

When "the scentless" Elena thought she would be laid off by her manager, she never expected her new billionaire boss to be her high school crush Charles....Manager: "Sir, I think there's been a mistake. How is she staying? And I'm not? This isn't right.""You're right," Charles said, leaning forward over the table. "I'm sorry Elena. I forgot to mention you aren't going to be working here either."Manager's face set into a smug smirk."You'll be joining my team."There was a simultaneous gasp around the room.

When life turns its back at you, all you can do is turn your back and run. Emerald Dubrow did that just well, choosing a university far from home, but life’s more than a decision. All effort seems aborted when she meets an obnoxious ex in the same school just when she's putting herself out there. What’s worse; he wants her back. Caught in between a hot, sorry ex and shiny brown eyes that rolled his jeans way up to his ankles, Emerald must make a quick decision.

"I'm sorry for what I'm about to tell you. I just don't want you to have any misconceptions about this marriage." "What do you mean?" "I don't like beating about the bush, so I will go straight to the point. I don't like you and don't want to get married to you. I had to consent because my mother requested this from me, and I just couldn't say no to her." "What are you now trying to say?" "You shouldn't have any expectations from me or from this marriage."

"I'd love to see the look in your eyes when you kneel with a leash around your throat and do as your master says," Marshall Domayne, the hot guy I'd hated from highschool said to my face. "You'll make a great sub." "I'll never be a sub," I countered. "I love clean sex and can never be interested in your kinks." His lips lifted in a small smirk. "Ladies like you who are always in denial are the sweetest to break." .... All her life, Solayne wanted a man who would love her the right way. Fuck her the normal way. What she never prayed for was to get entangled with the rude difficult brother of her male best friend. She hated him terribly, but when the arrogant shithead became the only person that could help her with a scandal that was threatening to ruin her future, she had to go to the devil for help. But her best friend wasn't happy with the entanglement. He hated the way they looked perfect in public. Hated the way his brother's hand fit around her waist, the way he brushed her hair in public, and the way he kissed her like no one was watching. CONTENT WARNING! This book is rated 18+. It is twisted and dark in its own way. The MMC is a sadist and not someone that could pass for a saint. Raad with discretion.

He came to me and hugged me without saying anything. "I'm sorry for all I did. And I'm letting you go. I know that you don't love me anymore so I'm ready to be patient for you." Dave... I closed my eyes and realized, I hugged him back and rested my chin on his arm. We are only carried away by our emotions so we do bad things. But anyway, I forgive you since you told me your reason. You have become a part of my life, Dave, and I was happy to have you before. "Dave."

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

When a young girl named **Emilia** moves to an isolated, fog-drenched city in search of a fresh start, she quickly discovers that something is terribly wrong. The streets echo with silence, residents vanish without a trace, and time itself begins to twist and collapse. As doors appear in places they shouldn’t, and her own reflection begins acting on its own, Emilia realizes she’s trapped in a place that is not just haunted — it’s alive. Each chapter peels back a new layer of horror: shadowy watchers, eerie apparitions, underground tunnels, and ghostly echoes of past inhabitants. But the real terror lies within — the city seems to feed on fear, loneliness, and the feeling of failure. It reflects Emilia’s own anxieties back at her, warping her reality into a trial of the soul. As she searches for meaning, and later for escape, Emilia uncovers the city’s sinister purpose: it traps those most vulnerable and forces them to confront their darkest selves. With the help of other survivors — some real, some echoes — she must navigate psychological mazes and make impossible choices to survive. But survival isn't enough. Emilia must transform — not by escaping her fear, but by embracing it. In doing so, she becomes something more than a victim of the city. She becomes a guide, a witness, and eventually, a keeper of the door. *Trapped in the Hollow City* is a suspenseful, haunting exploration of inner demons, resilience, and the eerie beauty of choosing to become — even when the world seems built to break you.

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. You just walked out of Boston City Hall looking absolutely radiant. Any special occasion to celebrate?" "I'm getting divorced." "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind telling me what happened?" "He's been bedding his late right-hand man's sister. In my art studio, on my yacht, across my private study desk, and even on the grand piano in our living room. He thought I didn't know." "I can't imagine how much this hurts. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Where are you heading now?" "The hospital. Prenatal checkup." ... The interview went viral within hours for her calm, unflinching recounting of the betrayal and the shocking contrast between her glamorous mafia wife identity and her devastating situation. It didn't take long for netizens to dig out my identity, and the entire world now knows the woman in that video is me. Elena, Donna of the Moretti family. Three years ago, Vincenzo Moretti, the undisputed Don who ruled Boston's underworld with an iron fist, threw me a wedding that made headlines across the nation. Back then, everyone envied me, calling me the luckiest woman alive. But now? That interview had been online for nearly two days, and Vincenzo was still lost in his little love nest. By the time Vincenzo finally bothered to watch the video his men had forwarded to him, I was already in New Zealand. The whole world knew I was leaving Vincenzo Moretti. He was the last person on earth to find out.

“Don't you guys feel sorry for her?” “She's just a cheap slut that begs for me every night,” a man that looks exactly like her fiancé said with a smirk. Eleanor just found out that her fiancé was a twin and her bedmate was his twin brother. Her caring fiancé by day was different from the one filled with desires at night. ********* Eleanor dated her fiancé for four years and decided to get married to him, but she was just a pawn in his revenge games. What will she do when she finds out that the man she has been sleeping with was her fiancé’s secret twin brother, not her fiancé?