Reel Life
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Reel Life's Books and Stories
Rising From The Grave As A Queen
Modern I was tracing the gold paint on my own tombstone when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.
It was Clayton.
The same man who, five years ago, had left me bleeding out in a ditch because he didn't want to be late for my sister’s engagement party.
"Die quietly, Ivy," he had said over the phone before hanging up.
Now, standing over my grave, he dropped his cheap plastic flowers in shock.
"Ivy? You're... we buried you."
They hadn't buried me.
They had buried an empty box to save face, mourning a "troubled" daughter they had actually discarded like broken trash the moment I became a liability.
Clayton’s shock quickly turned to that familiar, arrogant anger.
He accused me of faking my death for attention.
He told me I was sick for putting the family through such pain.
He even reached out to grab my arm, intending to drag me back to my father to apologize.
"You're coming with me," he spat. "You owe us an explanation."
But he made a fatal mistake.
He thought he was talking to Ivy Dillard, the soft girl who cried when she skinned her knees.
He didn't notice the town car waiting at the curb, or the man stepping out of it.
Before Clayton’s fingers could graze my coat, a hand made of steel caught his wrist.
Collin Richardson, the most feared Capo in Chicago, stepped between us.
"Touch my wife again," Collin whispered, his voice promising violence. "And you lose the hand."
I smiled at the terror draining the color from Clayton's face.
I didn't come back from the dead to explain myself.
I came back to bury them. The Waitress Is Actually A Mafia Queen
Mafia I spent 365 days scrubbing floors as a waitress to test if my fiancé was a King.
He thought I was just Blake, a poor girl with too many bills.
He didn't know I was the daughter of the Capo dei Capi, the true owner of the East Coast.
But it took only three seconds for him to fail the test.
His mistress, Jaden, marched into the restaurant wearing a dress too tight for a place where deals were made in whispers.
She treated me like a servant, throwing her keys at my chest.
When I refused to bow to her, she slapped a tray of boiling hot tea onto my hand.
The pain was blinding. My skin blistered instantly.
I waited for Connor to defend me. I waited for him to show honor.
Instead, he looked at his investors, panicked, and turned on me.
"Apologize, Blake!" he screamed, desperate to keep the peace. "Kneel if you have to! Just make her happy!"
He wanted a Queen to kneel to a mistress just to save his fragile ego.
He had no idea I was the one holding the deed to his entire territory.
I didn't kneel.
I dropped his phone into the deep fryer and watched it sizzle.
As my father's tactical team kicked down the doors, I untied my dirty apron.
"I'm not fired, Connor," I said, watching the blood drain from his face.
"I'm the landlord." My Surgeon Husband's Ultimate Betrayal
Modern My husband, a brilliant cardiac surgeon, was supposed to perform my mother's high-risk heart surgery. But just as she was being prepped, he texted me about a "major OR emergency"-a multi-car pileup he couldn't avoid.
Minutes later, I saw an Instagram story. It was a picture of his hand holding another woman's, posted by a socialite whose mother was his "pet project." The caption read: "My hero, dropping everything for my mother's health scare."
He wasn't saving lives in a catastrophic accident. He was holding hands for a photo op while my mother's life was on the line with a replacement surgeon. He chose them over us.
He abandoned my mother's surgery for a "health scare," moved his mistress and her mother into the nursery I had prepared for our future child, and then, in front of a crowd at the hospital, publicly denied ever knowing my mother to protect his new "family."
I watched him destroy our lives for their applause, for a lie. He called me dramatic, childish, and cruel for not understanding his "compassion."
But what he didn't know was that I had already hired the most ruthless divorce attorney in the city. This wasn't a cry for attention; it was a declaration of war. Oops! My Real Identity Just Destroyed My Con Artist Boyfriend
Modern On the first day of school, my childhood sweetheart boyfriend, Xander Harris, took me to school, but we met a two-faced roommate.
She flattered him, praising his exceptional maturity for his age.
Yet, she accused me of being vain, carrying a knock-off designer bag, and creating a rich persona.
As I tidied my bed, she dramatically gasped. "Wasn't that wealthy older benefactor who accompanied you yesterday supposed to rent you a place near campus? What happened? Did he change his mind?"
When she learned that my boyfriend and I planned to marry right after graduation, she shouted loud, "You can't be serious! Are there still gold diggers who want to get something for nothing and rely on men?"
Inside, I was laughing hysterically.
Wealthy older benefactor? That was my dad!
And my boyfriend? Just the son of my dad's driver. The Roommate's Cruel Game
Young Adult The first sign of trouble was a pair of dirty, lace-trimmed socks, carelessly left on my kitchen counter by my rich, entitled roommate, Tiffany Gold.
I was Chloe Miller, a scholarship student barely affording university, and she treated me like her personal maid, a role I was rapidly growing to resent.
My attempts to manage the situation peacefully shattered when her football star boyfriend, Brett, burst in, drinking my juice and then assaulting me when I tried to leave, all while Tiffany feigned tears, painting me as the villain on social media.
The university administration, influenced by Tiffany' s powerful family, sided with them, threatening my scholarship and dismissing my trauma, leaving me alone and branded a liar.
How could my life be destroyed by a pair of socks and a fake cry for help?
Mark, my boyfriend, an aspiring journalist, saw through their veneer.
"This isn' t just a bad roommate," he told me, his eyes burning with journalistic fire. "This is abuse. We' re going to document everything."
This was no longer just about survival; it was about fighting back, exposing the rot beneath the gilded surface of their privilege. His Cruel Love: The Feather's Betrayal
Fantasy For twenty years, I was the heart of Havenwood, the boy with the miraculous feather that brought life to barren fields and healed the sick.
My gift built their prosperity; I gave them everything, believing I was blessed to serve my people.
Then, the blight came, stubborn and unyielding, and suddenly, their gratitude turned to fury.
They labeled me a monster, accused me of hoarding power, and the same faces I' d known since childhood, led by Mr. Gable, dragged me through the streets and into a jail cell.
"You will remember me," I told their hateful faces as Sheriff Davis drove me away; a warning they met with mocking laughter.
Just when despair was setting in, Julian Croft, a wealthy man whose racehorse I once saved, bailed me out, but his intent was not kindness.
He wanted to buy my power, to turn my gift into a tool for his luxury resort, demanding I make his barren mountainside a paradise.
"No," I defied him, a new strength burning in me as he sneered, "I' m not your tool."
For my rebellion, his men brutalized me, leaving me battered and broken, but not defeated.
I limped back to Havenwood, seeking refuge, only to be met with accusations that the blight had worsened because of my absence, and a demand for a million dollars in damages.
"You owe us!" they screamed, their greed consuming them as they blamed me for their own suffering.
In a horrifying climax, Mr. Gable, believing my feather was a "plug" holding back power, ripped it from my neck with rusty sheep shears, convinced it would unleash my full gift upon them.
The pain was excruciating, a tearing agony, but as the feather crumbled to dust, something new awakened within me.
A power, untamed and mine alone, surged through my veins, washing away my wounds, leaving me stronger than ever before.
I turned my back on their horrified faces, leaving Havenwood to its self-made curse, knowing their prosperity would wither without me.
I rebuilt my life far away, prospering in a bustling city, while Havenwood succumbed to the very blight they blamed me for, ravaged by unnaturally aggressive insects and rats.
Their desperation grew, and the very people who had once praised me, then condemned me, then brutalized me, finally realized the truth: their savior was gone, and their damnation was their own doing.
Mr. Gable' s family died horrifically, his wife driven mad, and an ill-fated "purifier" brought even more devastation, leading to the unthinkable death of every child in Havenwood.
The town, now a biohazard, vanished from the map, its few survivors scattered and insane, while Julian Croft, too, met a swift, unceremonious end.
I was finally free, building my own life on my own terms, leaving the ghosts of Havenwood behind, a testament to the price of betrayal and unbridled greed. The Hacker's Legacy
Sci-fi The official notification arrived, its synthesized voice delivering a death sentence. My brilliant, rebellious sister, Luna, was "terminated" by OmniCorp-a corporate word for erased, dead.
My hands trembled as I gripped the datapad, rain blurring the neon city outside. They said it was a security investigation, a closed case. But I knew OmniCorp's lies. They owned this city, its air, its jobs, its very laws. They took Luna because she defied them.
My grief was a raw wound, but then I found it: a small, black data-puck hidden under her bed. Luna' s secret, even from me. This device, alien to OmniCorp's tech, held her hacker signature: a crescent moon. It contained files, data streams codenamed 'Nyx', listing names and accounts-all tied to OmniCorp' s most secret projects and its CEO, Dr. Elias Thorne. Luna wasn't just hacking; she was building a case. A weapon. And they killed her for it.
The city, veiled in acid rain, felt like a cage. My heart pounded with helpless rage. They weren't just erasing her; they were rewriting her end, calling it an "accidental death" on public screens. My compliant life, keeping my head down to survive, felt like a poison.
But then, the lie smothering my grief ignited something else: revenge. They had silenced my sister to protect their secrets. The weight in my stomach turned into cold, hard resolve. I looked at the data-puck, no longer just tech, but a promise. A weapon. And I would learn how to use it. The Janitor Who Saved a Billionaire
Romance I was Elara Vance, a humble janitor by day, a secret Legacy Keeper by night, painstakingly saving every penny for my retirement.
Then came the ludicrously generous $35 million offer from Marcus Thorne, a titan of industry.
His demand: perform a sacred lineage ritual over his "suicided" son, Julian, and then "sanitize" the scene.
It felt wrong, but it was my escape.
Stepping into Julian' s opulent, blood-soaked room, a primal chill seized me – this was no suicide.
The gruesome scene screamed violence, not despair.
Then I saw him, truly saw the "body," and my world tilted violently off its axis.
Julian Thorne wasn't just a dead rich kid; he was Jake Miller, the man I' d loved, who vanished a decade ago, leaving my heart in pieces.
And he wasn't dead.
He was alive, barely, a victim of a monstrous, unspeakable betrayal.
Marcus Thorne, the grieving father, was a cold-blooded killer who' d tried to murder his own son and wanted me, the Legacy Keeper, to clean up the mess and take the fall.
The decade of heartache over Jake' s disappearance collided with burning rage and terror.
How could the man I loved be entwined in such depravity, and I, the innocent, be the chosen scapegoat?
The weight of his family' s dark secrets threatened to crush me in that room.
With Marcus' s goons pounding at the door, demanding answers, I knew I had two choices: die here, or fight back using the very "ritual" he desperately craved.
This wasn't about money anymore; it was about survival, and exposing a powerful family's terrifying truth. The Scorned Wife's Comeback
Modern The world snapped back for Sarah Miller.
It wasn't a blessing.
It was June 14th, the day her life first shattered.
That day, her son, David, received his prestigious ROTC scholarship acceptance.
It was a golden ticket.
Then, it was brutally snatched away.
Her husband, Sergeant Mark Jenkins, the man she' d sacrificed everything for, didn't just have an affair with Brenda Lewis.
He openly diverted David's esteemed scholarship to Brenda's entitled son, Kevin.
Overnight, Sarah was painted as the "unhinged ex-wife."
Mark and Brenda flaunted their "perfect" new family, built on disgusting lies.
She remembered the public humiliation David endured.
She remembered his spirit dimming under relentless bullying.
She remembered the unspeakable note he left behind and the awful silence in his room before his suicide.
Consumed by grief and labeled a crazy scorned woman, Sarah herself faded into a blur of despair.
Her own tragic, unspoken end followed.
How could one man be so utterly devoid of conscience?
To destroy his own son for a new life?
The injustice burned.
The raw pain was still fresh.
Why would fate curse her with such a horrifying memory, only to offer it again?
Then, the shocking realization hit her.
She was back.
It was June 14th.
A second chance.
This time, she wouldn't be a victim.
This time, David would live.
This time, she would fight.
And no one on this earth would stand in her way. Too Late, My Queen
Billionaires Ethan Miller, a gritty musician, found himself trapped in a gilded cage, bound to the ruthless music mogul Victoria Vanderbilt.
His sister Maya' s life depended on Tori' s whims and VME' s endless resources.
He endured years as Tori' s star, her lover, her prized possession, sacrificing his soul for Maya' s critical care.
But Tori' s attention, a fleeting and dangerous thing, soon shifted to Julian Vance, a brash performance artist.
Ethan's music became "dated," his loyalty dismissed, and VME' s lifeline to Maya was cruelly severed.
He watched, helpless, as Julian' s family and their goons ripped Maya' s ventilator away, causing her agonizing death.
Tori, witnessing his despair, callously shrugged it off, declaring it "resource reallocation."
How could the woman he loved, who once vowed to protect him fiercely, become a monster who facilitated his sister' s demise?
His very devotion had been a poisoned gift, leading to the ultimate, unbearable price.
In that moment of profound loss and brutal betrayal, Ethan Miller died.
He rose from the ashes, now Liam Kincaid, a ghost determined to vanish from Tori' s toxic world, seeking true freedom and peace. You might like
Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?
Mia Caldwell In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end.
Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced.
This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak.
Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely.
Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings? Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now
Theodora Birnir The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life.
To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers.
When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance.
Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?"
Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling." 
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