Too Much Thinking Novels & Stories

At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm. "A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see." Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days. The room erupted in laughter. Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me. "Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof. From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense. They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene. Instead, I simply gave a calm nod. The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight. That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers. I smiled and said, "No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."

The day my parents traveled all the way from home to discuss the wedding arrangements, the Miller family—led by Grayson Miller—showed up late. After my third call went unanswered, my mom forced a smile and tried to comfort me. "Maybe they're stuck in traffic. It's no big deal. Your dad and I don't mind waiting." And wait we did—for three hours. Their expressions slowly shifted from eager excitement to quiet sorrow. My dad kept tugging at the stiff, ill-fitting suit he rarely wore. Finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore. His eyes reddened, and his voice trembled as he asked, "Sweetheart… does it have to be him? "I'm not trying to break you two up. It's just—you'll be thousands of miles away from us. If you ever get hurt, your mom and I… we won't be there in time to wipe your tears." My nails dug into my palms. Still, I smiled, helped my parents to their feet, and said: "Dad, Mom, let's go home. Forget the engagement. I don't want it anymore."

Five years after we broke up, my ex-fiancé Bruce, yes the mafia one, suddenly called me out of the blue to announce our wedding date. I was speechless. Shocked, I blurted out, "Wait… didn't we break up five years ago?" He replied with his usual arrogance, "Break up? I never agreed to that. You left in a fit of anger. "And let me guess. You came back to the country only because you heard I was getting married. Out of jealousy, hoping to reclaim our engagement?" He even had the nerve to tell me to be magnanimous and accept Bella, the so-called 'perfect girl' who had spent the last five years by his side. I let out an icy laugh and hung up immediately. I had long been married to the most powerful Don of the strongest mafia family and had two adorable sons to show for it. Honestly, I had no idea what Bruce was thinking. Now, who even cares about him?

Six years ago, I was accused of kidnapping Fiona Carter’s adopted younger brother, Ryker Carter. The kidnapper insisted I was behind it. I begged Fiona for help, but she looked at me with pure disgust. "Xavier, you broke Ryker’s leg. This is the punishment you deserve!" Six years later, Fiona came to the prison to take me home, only to be handed a death certificate. She refused to believe it. "Xavier, even if you run to the ends of the earth, I’ll find you!" Later, she knelt in front of my grave and personally severed Ryker’s tendons.

In the twenty years I was bound to my host, this was the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time I had watched him argue with Vivian Hale. The meal he had carefully prepared was smashed all over the floor. His eyes were red as he nearly shouted at her. "Why do you choose him every single time? You divorced him, remember? I am your husband!" Vivian remained calm, as if she had known all along that my host would make a scene. "So what if we divorced? I have a child with him. I cannot just ignore him." That one careless sentence left my host sitting frozen in place for a long, long time. Long enough for the sky outside to go completely dark. There had been countless moments like this before, but he had always gritted his teeth and held on. I thought this time would be no different. Until my host suddenly asked me, "What happens if I abandon the mission?"

At a friend's engagement party, someone jokingly asked Felix and me when we were finally getting married. I looked at him with a smile. However, he said nothing. He only changed the subject awkwardly. The friend who asked looked at me apologetically. I kept smiling and took a sip of my drink. I have always had a habit of putting things off. Not seriously. Just enough to hold on longer than I should. So this time, I decided to let Felix go. And let myself move on too.

Timothy Yeager is the sole successor of Caelumis, the most powerful force of Efral. He has billions of dollars in inheritance and countless subordinates! On this day, he returns to civilization with the marriage contracts his mentor has set for him so he can keep his promise and protect his fiancées. However, as soon as he gets home, most of his fiancées call off their engagements to him. "Do you think you're worthy of marrying someone from the Barton family when you're so useless?" "How can the daughter of the Lynde family marry a peasant like you? It's a humiliation to her!" "Today, we're gathered here to annul the marriage contracts with a loser like you!" "You're dreaming if you think a peasant like you is worthy of marrying any of us ladies!" Amidst the insults and mockery, an icy voice rings out. "Since all five of you are annulling your marriage contracts with him, I, Mavis Jefferson, shall accept it." Timothy looks in her direction and his heart clenches. It's her!

There was only one week left until my marking ceremony with Alpha Mason Wright. And this time, he was asking to postpone it yet again, all because his puphood sweetheart, Eira Padmore, the she-wolf who once saved his life, had another episode. She was in tears, begging to go to Bhador to see the snow, just like every time before, claiming she wouldn't be able to breathe otherwise. The ceremony had already been pushed back three times. All the wolves of the north had been waiting for us to complete it. But I was done waiting, and so was the pup growing inside me. If Mason refused to mark me, then I'd walk away and build my own future. But what I couldn't understand was... Why was it that the moment I left, Mason went mad searching for me, and suddenly insisted on marking me after all?

Emilka Winchester is the envy of Seattle. To the outside world, she is Mrs. Perfect—the beautiful, devoted wife of a powerful man, living a life of marble counters, designer dresses, and carefully curated happiness. But behind closed doors, the silence is deafening. When her husband misses their fifth anniversary, a single crack begins to spread. A missed dinner becomes a trail of lies leading from the rain-soaked streets of Seattle to a hidden hotel room in Chicago. One receipt. One lingering scent of lilies. One scrap of red lace that doesn’t belong to her. The truth shatters everything. But Damian doesn’t ask for forgiveness. He offers a solution. An open marriage. After years of failed IVFs and the weight of a legacy that never came, he no longer wants a wife,just a woman to maintain the illusion while he lives his life elsewhere. Now Emilka must decide: remain the perfect wife in a beautiful lie… or destroy everything to reclaim the truth. Because in a world built on appearances, the truth is the most dangerous thing she can choose.

On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Don James Colombo, left me at the altar again. "Angelina is in the ICU," he said. "The ceremony will have to wait." It was the ninth time he had abandoned me for his terminally ill childhood sweetheart. The first time, she had run away from home, and he could not rest easy. "Angelina is missing, yet you want me to stand here toasting at the wedding? Don't be so selfish, Leticia." The third time, he said Angelina was in a terrible state and threatening to take her own life — he had to go comfort her. By the eighth time, James had stopped explaining and simply had the butler notify me the wedding was off. For him, postponing a wedding was nothing. For me, the Buono Principessa left standing in a chapel, it meant ridicule and one hundred lashes from my furious father. The lashes split open my skin and left me running a fever that would not break. James would hold me afterward, apologize helplessly, and promise he would make it up to me after we married. He promised nine times. He kept none of them. So when he left me again for Angelina, I did not cry or make a scene. I packed my bags alone and in silence. It would be the last time he ever postponed our wedding. One month later, he would never be able to find me again.