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Diva.dazzel
Diva.dazzel
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Novels by Diva.dazzel

Taming the varsity player

Taming the varsity player

Eloise Gilbert is a ghost. In a high school obsessed with status, she is completely invisible—clumsy, sarcasm-shielded, ignored by her own family, and hiding a singing voice nobody has ever heard.​Mike Weller is royalty. The arrogant, blonde, star varsity athlete is untouchably wealthy and used to everyone bowing to his ego.​Their worlds should have never collided. But when a clumsy summer blunder leaves a massive scratch down the side of Mike's brand-new sports car, Eloise finds herself dead broke and deeply in debt to the school's golden boy. Since she can't pay for the repairs, Mike smirks and demands a different price: her total servitude for the summer.​He expected a quiet servant. He got a fiery outcast who refuses to fawn over him.​But as forced proximity turns their sharp insults into something dangerously real, school is about to resume. And in the ruthless hallways of elite social cliques, secrets never stay hidden for long...
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Chapter: CHAPTER 18: THE BLUEPRINT OF US
​The Tuesday afternoon bell at Oakridge High didn't just signal the end of classes; it felt like a starting gun. ​I spent the entire day trying to ignore the lingering glances in the hallway, but my mind was completely stuck on the small, folded sticky note tucked inside my pocket. During AP English, Mike had walked past my desk to hand in his paper, and with a swift, entirely invisible movement, he had dropped the note onto my binder. It just had his sharp, heavy handwriting: 4:30 PM. The Mansion Library. Don't be late, Gilbert. ​At exactly 4:30 PM, I walked up the grand stone steps of the main Weller mansion, my heart doing a nervous little dance against my ribs. I had changed into a cozy, comfortable outfit—a thick, oversized thrifted cream sweater that swallowed my frame, dark leggings, and my leather boots. My vibrant copper waves were pulled up into a messy claw clip, letting a few loose strands frame my face. ​I pushed the heavy oak doors of the private library, and my brea
Last Updated: 2026-07-16
Chapter: CHAPTER 17: BLACKOUTS AND BLUEPRINTS
The heavy double doors of the Elm Street sports complex thudded shut behind us, cutting off the crisp afternoon air. Inside, the massive gym echoed with the high-pitched squeak of sneakers, sharp referee whistles, and the heavy, rhythmic pounding of basketballs. The state select scrimmage was in full swing. ​I walked into the lobby, Ethan’s hand resting protectively against the small of my back. He had insisted on walking me in, his flannel shirt open, his posture relaxed but completely steady as he navigated the jock-heavy environment. ​Out on the court, Mike Weller was a force of nature. He was glistening with sweat, his jersey clinging to his broad, athletic chest as he drove past a defender, elevating effortlessly to slam the ball through the net with a ferocious, ringing rattle of the rim. He looked impossibly dominant, a golden king in his element. ​But the moment his sneakers hit the hardwood on the descent, his piercing blue eyes snapped toward the entrance. ​Mike froze.
Last Updated: 2026-07-16
Chapter: CHAPTER 16: THE HIGH SCHOOL VULTURE CULTURE
The sleek, dark window of Mike Weller’s sports car glided down, letting in the crisp Monday morning air as the vehicle idled smoothly at the Oakridge High drop-off gate. ​I climbed out of the back seat, adjusting the straps of my faded canvas backpack. I was wearing a casual, artsy outfit—high-waisted vintage denim jeans that hugged my frame perfectly, paired with a simple fitted black baby tee and my favorite worn-out leather boots. My wild copper waves were loosely held back by a dark brown claw clip, a few stray strands framing my pale face. ​"See you later, Gilbert," Jake called out from the passenger seat, his green eyes flashing with a warm, casual friendliness. Chad just gave a short, silent nod from the back, his massive shoulders shifting under his varsity jacket. ​Mike sat behind the steering wheel, his large hands resting loosely on the leather. He didn't look at me. His piercing blue eyes were fixed straight ahead on the crowded school entrance, his sharp jawline tight
Last Updated: 2026-07-15
Chapter: CHAPTER 15: THE COLD SHORE
​The quiet hum of the central air conditioning was the first thing that drifted into my consciousness on Sunday morning. I opened my hazel eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar luxury of the main mansion’s guest suite. I rolled over, the silk sheets rustling around me, and immediately caught the lingering scent of cedarwood and leather. ​I was still completely drowned in Mike’s massive black-and-gold varsity jacket hoodie. ​I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. My thoughts immediately drifted to the middle of the night—the quiet stillness of the bathroom, the meticulous way Mike’s large, calloused hands had wiped the sticky liquid from my face, and the rough honesty in his voice when he sat on the edge of my mattress. ​He admitted he cares about me. ​The thought made a strange, fluttering ache bloom deep in my chest. He hadn't been the arrogant, untouchable king of Oakridge High last night. He had been soft. Gentle. He had bared a piece of his real self just to make sure I felt safe
Last Updated: 2026-07-15
Chapter: CHAPTER 14: THE AFTERMATH OF THE RAGER
The silence in the massive marble kitchen was so heavy you could hear the ice melting in the forgotten cups. Every single eye was glued to Mike Weller. ​Before Jake and Chad could even take a step toward the door to execute Mike's order, a sharp clinking of acrylic nails against a plastic cup broke the stillness. Allie Grace Vance stepped out from the crowd of varsity players, her sleek blonde blowout bouncing as she crossed her arms, looking every bit the country-club queen she was. ​"Michael, babe, seriously?" Allie Grace scoffed, her voice dripping with a mix of annoyance and casual malice as she looked over at my stained, shivering form. "You’re going to end the biggest party of the semester because the guest hand got a little messy? It’s completely not worth it. Let the college guys have their fun. She can just go sleep in the laundry room or something if her cottage is busy." ​A few of the lacrosse players chuckled nervously, but the laughter died instantly when Mike turned
Last Updated: 2026-07-14
Chapter: CHAPTER 13: THE INVASION
​The rhythmic, low thrum of Ethan Grey’s motorcycle engine died down as he idled smoothly right outside the towering, black iron gates of the Weller estate just as the last purple hues of twilight were swallowed by the night. Ethan killed the engine, letting the bike coast to a smooth halt on the gravel.​"Thanks for the ride, Ethan," I said, sliding my helmet off and carefully holding my half-finished strawberry milkshake. My cheeks were still flushed with a warm, happy glow from our afternoon at the studio.​"Anytime, rockstar," Ethan smiled, his soft dark curls bouncing slightly as he took the helmet from me. But instead of revving the engine to leave, he lingered, his warm hazel eyes scanning the dark driveway before landing back on me. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sudden, curious tension settling over his handsome features. "Hey, Eloise... can I ask you something? Since you're living on the estate and all."​I blinked, surprised. "Sure. What's up?"​"What's it actually like?
Last Updated: 2026-07-13
married for show

married for show

GENRE: Billionaire Romance / Forced Proximity / Fake Relationship] ​"Five years. You will be my wife just for show." ​To save her family's failing oil empire from a crushing financial debt, twenty-five-year-old Ruby Bells agrees to the ultimate sacrifice: a five-year contract marriage to Manhattan’s most ruthless, untouchable billionaire, Alexander Ray. ​She expected a cold, distant stranger. She expected a marriage devoid of emotion. What she didn't expect was a man who looks like a walking Greek god, whose very touch sends a dangerous heat rushing through her veins. ​Alexander Ray has rules. He doesn't do commitment, he doesn't do vulnerability, and he definitely doesn't do love. He only agreed to this marriage to satisfy his family and keep up appearances. He thinks Ruby is just another pretty face he can ignore. But Ruby is smart, sharp-tongued, and entirely unwilling to be a pushover—constantly throwing Alex off his game from the very first morning in his penthouse. ​But as the lines between their fake marriage and real desire begin to blur, a dark secret threatens to burn their contract to ashes. ​Because Alex has a hidden past... with Ruby's own sister, Chloe. And Chloe is determined to take back the billionaire she believes belongs to her. ​Can a marriage born out of a business deal survive the secrets of New York's elite? Or will the intense passion between Ruby and Alex destroy them both? ​
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Chapter: Chapter 30: The Architecture of Us
​Ruby’s POV ​The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the penthouse, casting long, pale shadows across the marble kitchen island. ​I sat on a high stool, nursing a cup of black coffee, completely unbothered by the chaos unfolding on my tablet screen. Every major high-society blog in New York had screenshots of Victoria’s scandalous masterpiece side-by-side with my icy, emerald-dressed gallery smile. The headlines were spectacular. ​Alexander burst into the room like a localized hurricane, his blonde hair slightly messy, his blue eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep. He had his phone pinned to his ear, his voice a low, furious hiss. "...I don't care what the PR firm says, kill the story. Throw money at Page Six. Do your job." ​He slammed the phone down on the counter, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me. "The crisis team is downstairs, Ruby. They’re setting up a press release. We need to handle this statement together, right now, before—" ​"Cancel it,"
Last Updated: 2026-07-16
Chapter: Chapter 29: The Masterpiece
​Ruby’s POV ​The atmosphere inside the Fifth Avenue art gallery was choked with the scent of expensive champagne, heavy lilies, and the suffocating pretense of Manhattan’s elite. ​The gallery itself was a monument to old money structural design—soaring twenty-foot ceilings, polished white concrete floors that reflected the low, moody lighting, and towering glass panels looking out over a rainy Manhattan skyline. Hundreds of New York’s top collectors, investors, and high-society bloggers drifted through the space, their diamonds catching the sharp track lighting above. ​Alexander and I stood near the center sculpture, the absolute epitome of a united front. He looked breathtakingly sharp in a bespoke black Tom Ford tuxedo that contrasted vividly with his striking blue eyes and perfectly styled blonde hair. His large hand rested firmly on the small of my back, casting a protective, heavy warmth through the silk of my gown. ​I had gone for pure, high-fashion defiance tonight: an eme
Last Updated: 2026-07-16
Chapter: Chapter 28: Traces
​Mia Bells’ POV ​The humidity of the New York midnight clung to the tinted windows of the Maybach parked in the shadow of an industrial pier on the Hudson River. ​Inside, the only light came from the dim glow of the dashboard. Mia Bells sat perfectly straight, her sharp chin tilted up, her tailored cream silk coat draped over her shoulders. At fifty-four, she had spent decades navigating the volatile currents of Manhattan’s elite. She knew exactly what it took to keep an empire standing, and more importantly, what it took to keep it from burning down. ​The rear door clicked open, bringing in a rush of cold river air. A middle-aged man in a wrinkled dark suit slipped inside, breathing heavily. He looked frantic, his eyes darting to the front where Mia’s driver sat, unmoving as a statue. ​"Do you have it?" Mia’s voice was smooth, devoid of any warmth, slicing through the quiet car. ​The man reached inside his coat and pulled out a thick, legal-sized manila envelope, his hands trem
Last Updated: 2026-07-15
Chapter: Chapter 27: The Chicago Phantom
​Ruby’s POV ​The air inside the abandoned warehouse district on the outskirts of Chicago smelled of rust, old rain, and impending victory. ​Chloe had selected the location—a sterile, concrete loft space currently under development by a Bells subsidiary. It was completely private, entirely secure, and far away from the prying eyes of the Magnificent Mile. Outside, the cold Midwestern wind howled against the reinforced glass windows, but inside, the tension was thick enough to suffocate. ​I paced the length of the concrete floor, the heavy soles of my designer leather boots echoing sharply against the space. I had traded my regal Manhattan silks for a sharp, tailored black trench coat, my ginger curls pulled back into a sleek, severe ponytail. Behind me, Chloe sat at a temporary metal desk, her fingers flying across the keys of her encrypted laptop, her icy blue eyes scanning lines of digital data. Allie Grace stood near the reinforced door, a half-eaten bag of artisanal chips in on
Last Updated: 2026-07-15
Chapter: Chapter 26: The Corporate Mirage
​Ruby’s POV​By Wednesday morning, the penthouse had officially settled into a state of high-society cold war.​I sat at the head of the long mahogany dining table, the bright mid-week sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the pristine white porcelain plates before me. Betty moved silently around the space, pouring a fresh cup of green tea and setting down a small bowl of mixed berries and granola. The silence was heavy, but it was a silence I fully commanded.​Since Sunday afternoon, Alexander hadn't set foot inside the apartment. He had sent a brief, clinical text message late Sunday night stating he was staying over at James’s apartment. I had replied with a simple, detached 'Okay.' We hadn't spoken a single word since. I hadn't spiraled, I hadn't checked the blogs, and I certainly hadn't let myself feel the sting of his absence. I was surviving on pure, unadulterated Bells pride.​The heavy click of the private elevator doors broke the quiet.​I didn't t
Last Updated: 2026-07-14
Chapter: Chapter 25: The Architecture of Distance
​Ruby’s POV ​The penthouse living room still smelled faintly of the morning’s abandoned mimosa and cold anger when Betty’s soft, hesitant footsteps approached the chaise lounge. ​I was sitting with my legs drawn up, wrapped in a plush, oversized cream silk robe that felt like the only shield I had left in Manhattan. My wild ginger curls were tied loosely in a silk scrunchie, and my face was completely bare, save for the dark circles of humiliation lingering beneath my green eyes. ​"Madame Ray," Betty murmured, bowing her head deferentially. "There is a Miss Allie Grace downstairs. She insists on seeing you. She... she is carrying a bakery box and refused to leave." ​I blinked in surprise, my green eyes narrowing slightly. "Allie Grace? What is she doing here?" ​Before Betty could even offer an answer, the private elevator chimed, and Allie Grace stepped directly into the living room. She didn't look like she was here to gossip or poke around for high-society secrets. She was bal
Last Updated: 2026-07-14
nineteen and unravelling

nineteen and unravelling

At nineteen, you're expected to have the perfect blueprint. To navigate university effortlessly and finally act like a real adult. ​Kelsey Vance is ready for it. ​But reality doesn't care about blueprints. When the illusion fades, nineteen becomes less about having the answers, and more about the beautiful chaos of who you become when the expectations vanish.
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Chapter: Chapter Sixteen: Catastrophes and Concessions
Saturday afternoon arrived with a heavy, unbothered silence that my soul desperately needed. ​The dorm room was entirely mine. Talia hadn't been back since Monday night—she'd packed a weekend bag to go crash at her friend's off-campus house, meaning she was completely oblivious to the Malik drama, the midnight running, and the absolute emotional shredder I'd been through all week. Bianca had a mandatory music ensemble practice that ran all day, and Chris was currently out on a date he've spent three hours getting ready for. ​I was alone. And honestly? I was leaning entirely into my natural state: unhinged drama. ​I was sprawled across my bed in my most oversized, ragged graphic tee and grey sweat shorts, my curly hair piled into a chaotic, loose messy bun on top of my head. The blinds were drawn, a family-sized bag of spicy potato chips was balanced on my stomach, and How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days was playing on my laptop. I crunched loudly on a chip, pointing a finger at the screen
Last Updated: 2026-07-16
Chapter: Chapter Fifteen: Locked Boards
The blue light of my laptop screen felt like hot needles against my eyes as the clock on the dorm wall ticked past 3:00 AM. ​For the last fourteen hours, my phone had been a paperweight. No notification banners. No vibrations. Just the mocking, empty expanse of my lock screen. Ever since Malik had walked right past our table at the café, grabbed his coffee, and exited those glass doors without so much as a sideways glance, a suffocating, heavy knot of panic had been tightening in my throat. Did I push him too far? Was a midnight exit really enough to make him erase me? ​"Kels, honey, stop staring at the digital void. It's bad for your skin barrier," Chris murmured, slumping down onto the edge of my bed. He had traded his sharp daytime look for a pair of silk pajamas, but his laptop was still balanced on his knees. "Look at this font instead. Do we prefer the minimalist serif or the bold modern for The Era Society cover page?" ​"Minimalist serif," Bianca answered from her desk, her
Last Updated: 2026-07-16
Chapter: Chapter Fourteen: Café Blueprints
The pavement of the off-campus strip was freezing under my bare feet, the bitter 1:00 AM air biting straight through my lounge shorts and thin t-shirt. I didn't care. My chest was heaving, my heart hammering a furious, erratic rhythm against my ribs as I hauled my heavy tote bag down the dimly lit sidewalk. ​I couldn't go back to the dorms like this. I didn't want to see Talia's face, and I didn't want to explain why the glittering, perfect romance had just shattered into a million pieces on a charcoal grey bedroom floor. ​My mind flashed to a month ago—the night of the retro-neon roller rink. I remembered the exact turn Malik had taken in the AMG when we dropped Chris off at his apartment building. It was only a six-block walk from Malik's penthouse, but by the time I reached the brick facade of the building, my breath was coming in ragged gasps, my toes completely numb. ​I pressed the buzzer for apartment 4B, my fingers trembling. ​A long, agonizing thirty seconds passed before
Last Updated: 2026-07-15
Chapter: Chapter Thirteen: Front Rows
A month flies by at a completely different frequency when you're living inside a campus bubble.​For the past four weeks, my life had been a blur of matte-black Mercedes drives, late-night takeout on a charcoal grey comforter, and getting to know the quiet, guarded boy behind the elite athletic facade. I learned that Malik hated tomatoes, that he listened to old-school jazz when he was genuinely stressed, and that he had a habit of biting his lower lip right before he drove the lane. And in return, the entire campus learned one definitive fact.​Everyone knew I was Malik Thompson's girl.​"Kelsey, honey, if you don't stop fidgeting, the eyeliner will detect your anxiety," Chris warned, leaning across my desk with a liquid brush in his hand.​"I'm not anxious," I insisted, though my fingers were tightly gripping the edge of the vanity stool.​For tonight's official pre-season opener, I wasn't just attending; I was representing. I was wearing an oversized Ashcroft basketball jersey with
Last Updated: 2026-07-15
Chapter: Chapter Twelve: Neon Rollers
The bass from the sound system at the 4th Street Roller Rink was a physical thumping in my chest before we even stepped out of the matte-black AMG. The venue was a glorious, high-contrast time capsule—bathed in a wash of buzzing magenta and electric blue neon lights, with a steady stream of students laughing and clattering through the entrance in retro gear.​"Alright, let's see what this fashion kid's vision is about," Malik murmured, a slow, effortless smirk cutting through his features as he shifted the car into park.​For the night out, we had completely coordinated without looking like a tragic, cheesy matching-couple post. Malik was wearing an oversized white vintage graphic tee that clung perfectly to his broad shoulders, relaxed dark-wash denim, and his signature heavy silver chain gleaming under the neon glare. I had leaned completely into my aesthetic: a high-waisted, pleated white retro tennis skirt, a cropped neon-pink baby tee that hit just above my waist, and my curls pu
Last Updated: 2026-07-14
Chapter: Chapter Eleven: Realities & Roller Rinks
The text thread was already buzzing before my sneakers even hit the linoleum of the third-floor corridor. ​The Elites (3) ​Talia: So you're just going to leave us stranded in the dining hall while you vanish into thin air? Bianca: She's with the basketball player. Let her breathe, Talia. Kelsey: i'm back in the room o! come now now before i lose my mind ​The heavy wooden door to Room 304 didn't just open—it practically flew off its hinges. ​Talia burst in first, her voluminous blowout slightly wild from sprinting down the corridor, followed closely by Bianca, who closed the door behind them with her usual calculated precision. ​"Alright, unlock the vault," Talia demanded, dropping face-first onto my green duvet, her long legs dangling off the side. She rolled over, her eyes wide with frantic curiosity. "You vanished for three hours with the campus deity. Did he apologize? Did he explain the tragic two-letter text?" ​Bianca crossed her arms, leaning against my wardrobe, her sha
Last Updated: 2026-07-13
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