Erased From Home

Modern

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

Young Adult

"You're my home, Paris." Sam says while holding my hands. I raise my eyebrows and chuckle "of course because you're living in my house." I chuckle. "No, you don't get it. I want to be with you, you helped me to get through all this tough year and no matter how far I go, I will always come back to yo

Literature

Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger

Modern

My world shattered when our first son, Noah, "died" after my C-section. My husband, Ethan, seemed heartbroken, convincing me a new baby would heal our shared sorrow. I truly believed he was my solace. Then, at a prenatal visit, I overheard Ethan's chilling confession: "Noah is thriving with Cassa

Modern

My wife, Sarah, had conveniently "disappeared" three years ago, leaving me, Ethan Cole, the music mogul, free to thrive with my new star, Tiffany Vance—who just happened to be my high school tormentor and current lover. Life was perfect, until Tiffany needed a "raw" memoir and suggested Sarah write

Modern

For ten years, Sterling Manor was my world, every brushstroke a prayer to a father who vanished, leaving behind whispers of a hidden masterpiece. I poured my life into its decayed bones, chasing approval he never gave, believing I was restoring our family's legacy. Then, Sterling, the manor' s owne

Romance

My father' s funeral was a blur of lilies and hushed condolences. I stood by his grave, a shell of grief, the world a gray canvas of loss while my fiancé, Ethan, stood beside me, a comforting presence, or so I thought. Then darkness. I woke on a funeral home couch, voices drifting in. Ethan' s s

Literature

Hildegarde's Home by Laura E. Richards

Literature

This is an extraordinary work of travel writing that is more about the author's personal exploration than it is about monuments and museums. Inspired by a journey with an Eton colleague ten years prior, this memoir exemplifies how travel can become a personal experience and change who we are. Though

Literature

Dotty Dimple At Home by Sophie May

Billionaires

I was a new dad, celebrating my son's one-month birthday at my wealthy in-laws' stunning Napa estate. Life felt perfect, despite my manipulative father-in-law's constant urging to drink. I woke up with a pounding headache to a nightmare: my baby boy was gone. In his crib, lay a baby girl, a compl

Fantasy

I died in Montana, exiled to a sanatorium by my husband, the President, who called me "unstable" because a broken heart dared to challenge his polished image. One moment I was staring at a cracked ceiling, the next I was a ghost, bound to my husband, Julian, watching him sign documents in the Oval

Billionaires

I was an orphan being adopted by a simple family. My dad was a driver of a very powerful businessman. My mom was one of their maids. She was in fact their lady butler. This family with gazillion bank accounts had an only heir, drop dead gorgeous young billionaire, Albert Michaels. He was always the

Modern

I watched the screen, my knuckles white, as two viral videos ripped my world apart. One was old, grainy, showing a younger me, working two jobs, sharing cheap pizza with Lucas, eyes full of hope for his music, our future. "We're gonna make it, Lucas," I'd whispered, believing every word. The seco

Modern

My life was simple, if a little messy, running a tech repair shop, but I had everything that mattered: my wife, Olivia, and our five-year-old son, Leo. Then, Olivia left for her sister' s funeral, promising to return. She didn' t. I later found her living a new, lavish life, engaged to her dead si

Literature

Paternal Acres The Manor House The Domestic Hearth Old Furniture Ceilings The Parish Church The Village Inn The Manor Mill The Farmhouse Cottages The Village Doctor Scapegraces Hedges Underground Rights

Romance

The night she comes back from her best friend's apartment after finding out her boyfriend is married, she meets a huge man sleeping on the snow in her backyard. 23-year old Charlie Jordan doesn't know what to do. After so many calls and studying, she finds out the man—Blurin Jameson— is an ex-mili

Romance

When she ran away from trouble, she broke into his room. Hearing the security guards coming towards her, she threw away the high-heeled shoes and pressed him against the wall. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his attractive features. He wanted to ask who she was, but her kiss blocked his questi

Romance

The plane landed, and Liam was there, handsome as ever, his smile making my heart flutter despite the exhaustion of my art residency. But then I found a delicate pink earring in his car, one that wasn't mine. Minutes later, his phone buzzed; it was his assistant, Chloe, and then a text popped up:

Romance

I stood outside our bedroom door, the cool wood pressed to my forehead. My wife, Victoria, was inside, her voice low and urgent. "Liam, stop it. He could be home any minute." Liam. My paralegal. I froze when I heard his next words: "He needs to know you're not some broodmare, Vicky. That pregnancy s

Literature

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so th