Raihana Monib
3 Published Stories
Raihana Monib's Books and Stories
Taming The Wolf
Fantasy
Querencia Lynn was always the disappointment-the black sheep of her family. Scorned, unloved, and cast aside, her tragic life ends in an accident... only for her to wake up inside the very pages of a novel she was reading moments before death.
Now reborn as a side character destined to become a villainess and political pawn, Querencia knows exactly how her story ends-betrayed by her fiancé, the crown prince, and discarded once she's served her purpose. But this time, she's not playing by the book.
Armed with foresight, cunning, and a fortune of her own making, she's determined to break free from her chains-starting with her doomed engagement. But escaping the prince's grip means finding someone powerful enough to shield her from royal retaliation.
Enter the Archduke of Wolreign: the prince's cold, formidable cousin and the only man strong enough to oppose him. Dangerous, untouchable, and infamously indifferent, the Archduke is no easy mark.
Undeterred, Querencia approaches him with boldness and charm-but her first attempt ends in public humiliation. The nobles mock her. The Archduke calls her crazy.
She only laughs.
After all, villainesses never beg. They take.
With everything on the line, Querencia offers the one thing no one saw coming: a marriage proposal.
And for the first time, the unshakable Archduke is left without words.
A woman scorned. A man who cannot be tamed. And a future rewritten by the very villainess meant to be destroyed. The Mistake Painful
Romance One relationship was ruined because of a one-night mistake.
"You are my wish to the Father, I pray that He grants you to me."
That was my only prayer, but this is not the situation I wanted. I never intended to ruin a relationship, nor did I want to hurt another person. What happened in the past was unexpected, and now, here I am, facing the consequences of my actions. I'm married to a man who does not love me, and who never will, because he only sees me as a friend.
"Wait for the love you deserve," as people often say. That's why all I can do is pray and dream that someday, the love I give him will be returned.
Actually, I am his legal wife, but I let him do whatever he wants with his life. I also allow him to continue his relationship with the woman he loves, the one he's cared for from the very beginning. I'm not a martyr-I just want everything to be okay, and I don't want any conflict because I've accepted that this is the fate that's been given to me. We are not bound by love, and I've come to terms with that. I accept our situation, and I understand that we are married only on paper, even though we live under the same roof.
I do my duties as a wife, like serving him. I learned to cook because of him, though I can tell he doesn't really eat what I prepare. Life is bitter, but this is who I am. I keep trying, trying to make things work between us, to make everything okay, just like when we were young, because we used to be friends.
"Have you eaten?" I asked, seeing him drinking coffee in the dining area, focused on his laptop. I gave a bitter smile, already expecting no answer from him because who am I to deserve his attention? I took a deep breath; he didn't even glance at me. I don't have a contagious disease, yet he treats me as if I have leprosy.
"Have you spoken to your father?" he asked emotionlessly, closing his laptop with a thud.
"I-I told him," I stammered, bowing my head.
"Good," he said and stood up. I watched him walk away without saying anything, then started cleaning the dining area. I noticed him stop, so I also paused, and he turned to face me.
"Don't expect me to come home during the weekdays. Don't wait for me on the weekends either," he said seriously. All I could do was nod in agreement to avoid further conflict in our family. I endure this life even though it hurts because I'm the one to blame, and I'm the one who understands, so I carry the burden.
"When we're at the camp, Psalm, just ignore me because they don't know we're married on paper," he said irritably and turned away.
"I'm sorry," I called out, trying to apologize. My hands trembled as I held his hands with both of mine.
"I-I'm sorry," I repeated. He sighed deeply and pulled his hands away from mine.
"Your sorry won't change the situation, Psalm!" he replied angrily.
"I-I love... you," I said bravely, though my voice was shaky.
"But you don't own me," he replied coldly. I took a step forward to face him, but when our eyes met, I quickly looked away, playing with my wedding ring.
"What do I have to do for you to forgive me?" I asked.
"My freedom!" he answered shortly.
"And please, stop wearing that ring because we're not lovers."
"As you wish."
"Do everything you can to earn my forgiveness!" were his last words before he left without saying goodbye.
I exhaled deeply and cried. His request may be unclear, but I promise to find a way to give him the freedom he asks for. Even though I love him deeply, I'm willing to sacrifice for his happiness.
"Being in love with someone who no longer loves you is the most painful feeling in the world," I whispered, wiping my tears before running to my room, where I cried my heart out.
I let out all the pain through my tears. I released all my frustrations. I screamed and threw whatever I could get my hands on because, no matter how much I break down here, no one would hear me.
"A-Ah... it hurts!" I cried out in frustration, burying my face in a pillow to calm myself down because there was no one else to comfort me but me.
I got up and looked at the picture of us on our wedding day. I stared at Llishan's face, where you could see the forced smile on his lips. I stood and walked towards the picture, gently caressing his face.
"I hope that one day I'll wake up, and the pain I carry will be gone."
"I hope that one day this pretending will end. It's hard, but I hope that one day you'll have your freedom, baby, and I hope I'll be able to give you what you're asking for when I'm finally tired."
This is the truth I'm standing on!
I am Princess Psalm Jaxeen De-Gracia, and he is Mc Llishan Sanchez. Don't Forget To Remember
Adventure Averay tightly embraced Haze, unwilling to let go of him at the airport.
"Please... Haze. I don't want to go, p-please let me stay here. Haze..." she pleaded, her voice trembling with tears.
Her tears flowed uncontrollably. Her chest tightened as if her heart was being painfully squeezed.
"Please, Ave. Just go. This is for your own good. It will only hurt me more if you stay by my side. I don't want to see you crying, Averay. Just go inside," Haze said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Haze didn't want to see a woman cry because it reminded him of his mother.
"H-Haze... please, don't push me away... I want to stay with you, please... I love you."
He gently removed her arms from his waist, turned his back on her, and started to walk away. But Averay hugged him from behind.
"H-Haze, I love you! P-Please, choose me... love me instead. N-Not Kreza. Didn't she leave you? Please, choose me, Haze, I won't leave you. I love you... Hajinn." She sobbed, but his heart remained unmoved, showing no emotion.
"I love her. I waited for her for so long, and now she's back. We can finally continue the love we lost, Ave," he said firmly.
"W-What about me, Haze? What about me?" she asked, her sobs growing louder, attracting the attention of the people around them. Almost everyone at the airport was watching.
"Ave, before Kreza, you didn't exist in my life. From the start, there was no Averay who loved me, and I can't love you back. Just go, Averay. It will hurt you more if you see me with the woman I truly love."
"D-Do you really love her? D-Did you ever love me, even once, Haze?" Averay asked, her voice filled with emotion.
She didn't want to leave; she wanted to stay. But now, the man she loved so deeply was the one sending her away at the airport. It hurt, but he was pushing her away.
"I... don't and never did." With those words, her arms dropped to her sides, and she let him go. She closed her eyes tightly and cried.
"Haze..." she called out. "Haze..." But he didn't respond. "Haze!" she screamed, but he continued walking out of the airport, ignoring her. "Haze! Haze! Come back here, please! Haze, I love you! D-Don't forget how much I love you!"
She collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, letting her tears fall freely down her cheeks. It felt like a knife was stabbing her heart.
She had no choice but to let go and leave behind the man she loved. She had done everything-begged and cried in front of him-but nothing changed. His desire for her to leave won out.
She stood up, wiped her tears, took a deep breath, and looked at the airport doors where she could no longer see him. A bitter smile crossed her face, and once again, her tears fell uncontrollably.
"Haze, I love you so much..." she whispered before turning away and starting to walk.
This was it; she had to do this. She had decided to let him go. She could only wish him a happy life. You might like
Reborn To Swap Husbands With My Sister
Culprit The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss.
As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family.
In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter.
I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate.
I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath.
Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again.
She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house. Stolen Youth, Reclaimed Destiny
Zaccaria Linn The roar of the crowd was the last thing I heard.
I died on a dirty city street, falsely accused, a monster in their eyes.
It all started with a gift for my 25th birthday-an antique smartwatch from Eleanor, my adoptive mother.
It wasn't just a heavy, ornate trinket; it was a life-drainer.
Weeks after I clasped it on, my vibrant youth withered, my hair thinned, my mind fogged.
As I became a frail old woman, Eleanor, terrified of aging, grew younger, radiant with my stolen vitality.
She locked me in the dusty attic, telling the world I' d had a breakdown.
My only hope, Bethany, my ex-boyfriend' s fiancé, found me.
She helped me escape, or so I thought.
She live-streamed my chaotic flight, twisting a narrative: I was a fraud, mentally unstable, stealing from Eleanor.
The crowd, incited by her online posts, saw a villain, not a victim.
They closed in, their rage contorting their faces.
Bethany watched, a triumphant smile on her face, as my life drained away for the second, and final, time.
But death was not the end.
Floating in a void, I saw Eleanor and Bethany toasting with champagne, celebrating my demise.
The injustice burned through me, a rage so pure it could tear the universe apart.
They had taken everything.
Then, I woke up.
Gasping for air, my skin smooth, my hair thick and dark-25 again.
It was my birthday, the day it all started.
This time, the watch wouldn' t be for me.
This time, I was going to offer the "life-drainer" to Bethany.
I would watch Eleanor and Bethany, two predators bound by vanity and greed, tear each other apart.
This time, I would not be the victim. Shattered Legacy: A Woman Reborn
Ola Wilde In the hidden hollows of the Appalachians, my family knew a secret: a spark of life, a whisper of old magic in our blood that could make the barren fruitful. It was just folklore until Eleanor Montgomery arrived, her son Ethan, heir to a sprawling industrial empire, dying. Desperate, my family agreed: I, Sarah-Mae Jenkins, would marry Ethan, save him, and secure our future.
My "gift" worked. I conceived twins, and Ethan recovered, vibrant and strong. But on the day our healthy babies were born, he stood over me, cruel and triumphant, and smothered them. "Mountain trash," he spat, then sealed me alive in their cold family crypt.
To erase all trace, Montgomery Industries orchestrated a chemical spill, annihilating my entire valley, my home, my people. Every hope, every life, gone. Everything I had, destroyed.
Why such monstrous cruelty for a boy' s twisted obsession? Why was my very essence, my gift of life, deemed a curse worthy of such utter annihilation? The pain was a living thing, consuming me.
Then, darkness. Then, light. I gasped awake in my own bed, back in the small cabin, on the very day Eleanor Montgomery' s black car would wind its way up our mountain road. This time, there would be no bargain. This time, Sarah-Mae Jenkins was reborn for one purpose: revenge. The Day I Said No！
Qijia Lady The smell of ozone meant a blizzard, and the buzzing of Tyler's call meant the end of my life.
In my last life, I answered, running to save Ethan, the man I loved, from a Rockies storm.
That rescue shattered my leg, my climbing career, and ultimately, my spirit.
Ethan married me out of pity, our life together a silent torment.
Then came the fire, my bad leg trapping me, choking smoke filling my lungs.
My husband, Ethan, and our teenage son pulled his mistress, Brooke, from the flames first.
The last thing I heard was my own son screaming, "You're a cripple! You ruined Dad's life!"
Why did I sacrifice everything for them, only to be betrayed and left to die?
Why did I have to be the broken one, the victim in my own story?
Then I woke up. Here. Today. The day it all went wrong.
This time, when the phone buzzed, I answered, not to save him, but to save myself. The Price of a False Hero
Clementine Ethan Miller possessed a secret gift: blood that could heal any wound, reverse any sickness.
In a past life, he used it to save Bree Vanderbilt, a beautiful socialite paralyzed from the waist down.
The Vanderbilts had promised him immense wealth and marriage, but Bree, fixated on her "hero" boyfriend, Chad Kensington, turned her back on Ethan once healed.
When Chad supposedly died searching for a cure, Bree, consumed by twisted grief, forced Ethan to try and revive him, draining him relentlessly.
Ethan died right there, exhausted from the futile attempt, unmourned by Bree, who only had eyes for her lost Chad.
It was only after his death that the bitter truth emerged: Chad wasn't a hero or a martyr; he was a cheat, murdered by a jealous husband.
Ethan had died for nothing, for a woman who mourned a liar and a scoundrel.
The betrayal, the pain, the utterly pointless sacrifice-every agonizing detail burned into his soul.
Then, with a gasping breath, he woke up, the sterile scent of his family' s hidden clinic sharp in his nostrils.
It was the exact day Eleanor Vanderbilt was scheduled to bring her paralyzed daughter, Bree, for his assessment.
This time, things would be different. The Comatose Heir's Unwanted Wife
Gu Mumu The humid Southern air always brought back the dread. Today was the day-the day the two proposals would arrive, sealing my fate.
My sister, Sabrina, burst in, her eyes manic, declaring she' d marry Brian Hughes, the charming mechanic, and I would marry Andrew Lester, the comatose heir.
This wasn't how it happened before. In my first life, Sabrina scheme her way into marrying Andrew, condemning me to Brian' s terrifying abuse – the beatings, the broken bones, the eventual fire she set to kill me because she thought my brokenness was a form of happiness.
Now, reincarnated, she remembers only Brian' s public devotion, oblivious to the monster beneath. She wanted my nightmare.
As a wave of dizzying relief washed over me, I realized… my tormentor, the man who destroyed me, was her desperate prize.
My mother, always favoring Sabrina, quickly agreed. They thought they were pushing me into a living widowhood, a quiet misery.
They had no idea they were finally setting me free. Second Life, New Rules
Jin Yi My first life ended with the smell of cheap whiskey, a throbbing leg, and the bitter irony of my ex-wife' s golden boy getting the scholarship that should have been mine. I died alone, broke, and knowing I was a failure in the eyes of my kids and the woman I' d sacrificed everything for.
Then, I woke up. The sun was hot on my face, the air thick with popcorn, and I was nineteen again, in my football uniform, standing on the side of the road. It was the homecoming parade, the exact moment my life had been destroyed.
I saw Sabrina Johns, the town' s golden girl, laughing on the wobbly float. In my past life, I' d heroically saved her from that collapsing monstrosity, letting it crush my leg and shatter my future. That act of self-sacrifice led to a lifetime of misery, a marriage fueled by her guilt and my ruined dreams. She' d always despised me, painting me as a cripple who trapped her.
To my dying breath, I thought saving her was the beginning of our tragic story. I never knew my future was already stolen, my dreams already dead, long before the float ever fell. Did my sacrifice even matter? What twisted game was this?
This time, as the float lurched and the giant hornet head tilted, I didn't move forward. I stepped back. I was back, and this time, things would be different. 
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