Nert Kirschner
1 Published Story
Nert Kirschner's Book and Story
Falling Into Love's Trap
Short stories I'm an easily fooled little fool.
Today, I received a scam text message.
The sender wanted me to seduce Isonstinthe richest man and then dump him, promising to give me one hundred million after I succeeded.
Heh, I'm a little fool, but I'm not really an idiot.
I randomly replied to him, "I've experienced it; the other party's stamina isn't great."
The next moment, I received a bank transfer notification for fifty million, with a note saying it was a deposit.
Well, that's not too bad.
Later, there were indescribable activities below the neck that lasted until late at night. Connor gently wiped away the tears from the corner of my eye.
"Melina, am I good enough now?" You might like
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Gavin My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child.
Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby.
To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner.
They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his.
The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused.
But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn. Too Late, My Mafia Heir Ex
Gavin My fiancé of seven years, the heir to a mafia dynasty, claimed amnesia three weeks before our wedding, forgetting only me. Then I overheard him laughing on a video call, calling it the perfect "hall pass" to sleep with an influencer before he was tied down.
He flaunted his affair, abandoned me with a broken arm after a staged car crash to save her from a scratch, and planned to leave me homeless. He called me his "property," a doll he could play with and put back on the shelf when he was done.
He thought I’d be waiting for his "miraculous recovery." Instead, I disappeared, leaving behind his ring and a simple note: "I remember everything. Me too." A Five-Year Deception, A Lifetime of Payback
Gavin I was the long-lost Donovan heiress, finally brought home after a childhood in foster care. My parents adored me, my husband cherished me, and the woman who tried to ruin my life, Kiera Reese, was locked away in a mental facility. I was safe. I was loved.
On my birthday, I decided to surprise my husband, Ivan, at his office. But he wasn't there.
I found him at a private art gallery across town. He was with Kiera.
She wasn't in a facility. She was radiant, laughing as she stood beside my husband and their five-year-old son. I watched through the glass as Ivan kissed her, a familiar, loving gesture he’d used with me just that morning.
I crept closer and overheard them. My birthday wish to go to the amusement park had been denied because he’d already promised the entire park to their son—whose birthday was the same day as mine.
"She’s so grateful to have a family, she’d believe anything we tell her," Ivan said, his voice laced with a cruelty that stole my breath. "It's almost sad."
My entire reality—my loving parents who funded this secret life, my devoted husband—was a five-year lie. I was just the fool they kept on stage.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ivan, sent while he stood with his real family.
"Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you."
The casual lie was the final blow. They thought I was a pathetic, grateful orphan they could control.
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Gavin For fifteen years, my husband Dustin and I were the fairytale. The high school sweethearts who made it, the tech CEO and his devoted wife. Our life was perfect.
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The texts from his mistress kept coming after that, a relentless barrage of poison. She sent photos of them in our bed and a video of him promising to leave me. She bragged that she was pregnant with his child.
He’d come home and kiss me, call me his anchor, all while smelling of her perfume. He was buying her a condo and planning their future while I pretended to have morning sickness from bad scallops.
The final straw came on my birthday. She sent a picture of him on one knee, giving her a diamond promise ring.
So I didn’t cry. I secretly changed my name to Hope, converted our entire fortune into untraceable bearer bonds, and told a charity to empty our house of everything.
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Gavin When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god.
Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires.
He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family.
In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet.
Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it.
That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed.
I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property.
After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash.
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A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy. The Silent Mate The Alpha Left to Die
Gavin My mother was in the hospital after a nasty dog bite, so I called my fiancé, Cohen. He was supposed to be my rock.
Instead, I got annoyance. He was in Aspen, on a ski trip with my best friend, Hillary.
“What do you want me to do? Fly back right now?” he snapped, before hanging up to get back to the “perfect snow.”
The dog, it turned out, was Hillary’s. The bite on my diabetic mother’s leg quickly developed into a raging infection. I texted Cohen an update, telling him she was getting worse, that they were talking about surgery.
He didn't call back. Instead, Hillary’s Instagram story updated: a photo of her and Cohen, cheeks flushed from the cold, smiling in front of a fireplace. The caption was a single heart emoji.
While they were sipping hot chocolate, my mother went into septic shock. As I sat alone in the grim hospital waiting room, staring at my silent phone, I knew he had already made his choice. He had chosen a vacation. He had chosen my best friend. He had left my mother to die all alone.
She passed away at 3:17 AM. I held her hand until it grew cold, then walked out into the gray dawn. I wasn't just grieving. I was done. I was going to erase myself from his world and burn everything to the ground. Beyond His Billion Dollar Regret
Gavin My fiancé, Arthur Mckay, had just beaten leukemia. A bone marrow transplant saved his life, and we were supposed to be planning our engagement party, celebrating our future.
Then she walked in. Diana, the donor's beautiful, fragile ex-girlfriend. Arthur became obsessed, claiming he had "cellular memory" and that the donor's cells were compelling him to protect her.
He postponed our wedding plans for her. He let her invade our home, touching my art, sleeping in my robe. He called me possessive and cruel when I protested. The man who once promised to cherish me was gone, replaced by a stranger who used a medical procedure as an excuse for his cruelty.
The final straw was my mother's locket, the only thing I had left of her. Diana saw it and decided she wanted it, weeping that her dead boyfriend had owned one just like it.
When I refused, Arthur's face hardened. "Don't be a child," he ordered. "Give it to her."
He didn't wait for my answer. He strode forward and ripped the chain from my neck, the metal stinging my skin.
He fastened my mother's locket around Diana's throat. "This is a punishment, Ella," he said calmly. "Maybe now you'll learn some compassion."
As he wrapped a protective arm around her and led her away, I knew the man I loved was truly dead. I picked up my phone, my decision made.
"Dad," I said, my voice steady. "I'm coming home."