Andrea Brillantes Finger Novels & Stories

As the wife of the Colombian cartel heir, Krystal Serrano is a symbol of diplomacy and control. Dressed in silk, wrapped in silence, and displayed like a crown jewel at the center of power. But behind the flawless smile lies a woman raised not just to survive, but to rule. When her husband's betrayal ignites a war with the Italian mafia, Krystal is taken. Kidnapped and hidden away by Zachary Romano, the young, ruthless Don who solves problems with bullets and buries questions with bodies. He thought he had captured a soft, obedient mafia wife. What he brought home was a storm in heels. Krystal doesn't beg. She doesn't break. Her silence provokes, her lips taunt, and her gaze slices deeper than any blade. Inside the stone walls of his private villa, control begins to slip. Hatred turns into tension. Tension burns into obsession. And in their world, love always comes with blood on its hands. The ring on her finger still binds her to a man who believes she belongs to him. But what happens when a woman like Krystal meets someone dark enough to understand her, broken enough to match her, and reckless enough to want her? Because there's a difference between loving a woman like Krystal… And trying to own her. And Zach Romano is about to learn—only one man can stand beside her. The rest will be buried.

Everyone knows that I'm the woman whom Oliver Reed, the richest man in Jeston, loves the most. Ever since I get pregnant, Oliver dotes on me even more and obeys every whim I have. One day, I realize that I've gotten kidnapped to an auction house after waking up from my nap. To my horror, my husband and his friend group can be seen sitting beneath the stage. Someone says with a grin, "Hey Oliver, how is it that you have time to bring Caroline to the hangout with you today? Everyone keeps claiming that Alexandra has you wrapped around her little finger now that she's pregnant." Oliver looks at the woman next to him. While he looks relatively exasperated, he still says dotingly, "I've been spending so much time with Alexandra that Caroline is already mad at me. Today, I managed to block out some time in my schedule to spend time with her." I do my best to squirm and struggle so that I can seek help from Oliver. Finally, I'm able to attract his attention. But he slowly lifts his bidding card while saying, "Number 7 keeps squirming, so she must be a slutty one. Here's one million dollars—I want her to be on the stage."

"After seeing all this, will you still be able to love me? You surely are not. That's why I was telling you to change your decision otherwise you won't have to see all this." With his one finger, he wiped her tears. His eyes were fixed on her horrified turn yellow pale face. "My love which has been in my heart for years can't be ended in a moment on seeing all this. And my decision will not change till my last breath." In weeping, she went on sitting on the floor. She was on the trajectory of that love where there was no going back. "If this is your final decision then fine. After that nikkah (marriage agreement) don't keep any kind of expectation from me." On her stubbornness, he controlled his rage and said in defeated voice. "If you get tired from fulfilling this one-sided relationship then remember I'm always willing to let you go back. You can free yourself from this relationship." After done with his saying, he turned back abruptly. While Hadia hide her face in her hands and started crying profoundly at what he said to her. Will Wadan accept and fell in love to Hadia who he raised since her childhood? Or Hadia will have to forget him and give up on her love just because he doesn't her worthy to love?

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

After my husband's first love, Sydney Edwards, used me as a walking blood bank, I died in the run-down rental apartment my billionaire husband, Casper Hawthorne, had tossed me into like it was a blessing for me. Today was the third day since I had died. My six-year-old son, Adam, finally realized something was wrong. He had cut his finger while playing with his toys, yet I did not comfort him. He tore open a packet of crackers and raised one to my mouth to feed me, but I did not stop him. He lay in my arms, clutching my clothes and whispering for me. Still, I did not answer. Lost and panicking, he found my phone and called his father, Casper. "Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?" The man sent back a photo of himself having New Year's Eve dinner with Sydney and said in a cold voice, "She's just sleeping, she's not dead. Today is New Year's Eve. I'm busy. Tell that clueless mom of yours that when she's ready to admit she was wrong, she can come and look for me." After the call ended, Adam stood there frozen for a long time. He picked up the last biscuit in the rental apartment from the trash can, broke it in half, and held one piece to my mouth. "Mom, let's eat too."

“I, Alpha Draco of the Peony pack hereby reject you, Helena, as my mate. I refuse to have anything to do with you anymore. You will be banished from this pack, never to set foot on this land anymore or you will pay for it with your life” his thick voice boomed through the cold and dark cell where I was kept all day with no food or water. My chapped lips parted painfully as the flesh drew each other tightly. I couldn’t even beg or plead for mercy. It was a miracle that I was not even killed because I was probably the most hated person in the pack at that moment. He didn’t allow me to utter whatever I had in mind before he turned his back on me. My finger grazed his cold hand as I tried to hold onto him, I was late. The warm eyes that had always behold me now look at me with disdain. There was no hope anywhere, his extreme sadness was visible even through his back as his footstep retracted into the long distance. At the loud clunk of the prison’s door kissing its hinge, my whole world crumbled. The only thing left in me was the small life breathing in my womb, something Draco never knew of. Right there, I made the resolution to live for my baby and find out the truth behind what happened in the pack that night.

So this is how the mate bond feels. A rush of energy, a pull like gravity tightening around us, and an almost maddening awareness of the other person. I wasn’t about to let it sway me though. Sure, the man in front of me is ridiculously perfect, but I wasn’t some love-struck fool who’d drop everything at the first spark of fate. I had a life, plans, and a fiancé waiting for me upstairs. I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to stay calm even as my heart raced. “Take a number and get in line, sweetheart,” I said coolly, flashing the engagement ring on my finger in front of his gray eyes. “I’m otherwise occupied right now.” …Five years later, when I pushed the door open, my mate remained motionless on a leather couch, his piercing gaze boring into me with a cold detachment that sent shivers down my spine. He leaned back, the casualness of the gesture at odds with the intensity in his eyes. His arms rested lazily on the backrest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His body was coiled tight, like a predator ready to pounce, and the air between us crackled with tension. “Is my number finally up?” he asks, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “My dear mate.” The words sting, but I can’t deny the truth in them. He is my last chance.

"Who the fuck is this? Speak and stop stalling!" "This is…this is doctor Smith, sir." He stuttered, unable to swallow the fear oozing out. "I couldn't reach you on your other line, so I…" ~~~~~~~ "I've ordered for everyone present to taste the stale smell of prison for two months." "What?!" ~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ "You dare ruin my nose? How dare you stand in my face?!" "I've tolerated you enough, doctor Magnus." "You have?" He scoffed. "Just because I refused to suck your finger dick doesn't give you the damn right to talk trash about me!" A gasp erupted from the mouths of the onlookers. The doctor glanced around the crowd now forming in groups as they chattered away indistinctively. "You're fired this minute!" "No, doctor Magnus, I quit!" ~~~~~~~ "No." "Sir?" "Didn't you hear me? I said no!" "No… to what exactly, sir?" "My son does not need such a kidney!" ~~~~~~~~ "Feed me first before I die of starvation from that pussy, Syntia!" Syntia gaped, freezing on the spot as Kelvin lowered his head and sucked her bare neck so hard that a groan erupted from her mouth. ~~~~~~ A wealthy toddler who attends an Elite Daycare fights for his life when his billionaire Daddy demands his health back. He says he wants an exquisite rebranding__will he find one? How will his decision affect his heir?

Wendy Lloyd's first love, Hudson Clark, treats me like a walking blood bank. Because of that, I end up dying in the rented apartment Wendy has given to me out of contemptuous pity. Today is the third day of my death. My six-year-old son, Terry Heath, finally realizes that something is wrong with me. When he accidentally cuts his finger from playing with his toys, I don't coax him at all. When he tears open a pack of cookies and feeds one to me, I don't stop him at all. When he lies in my arms and grips me by the hem of my shirt while calling out to me softly, I don't respond to him at all. Feeling rather uneasy, Terry finds my phone and calls Wendy. "Mommy, why is Daddy still asleep?" Wendy responds by sending a photo of her and Hudson enjoying a holiday feast together. She then says coldly, "He's just asleep, not dead. Today is Christmas Eve, so I'm very busy right now. "Tell that arrogant father of yours that he's only free to visit me whenever he's ready to acknowledge his mistakes." After that, the call ends. Terry is left feeling stunned for a long time. Finally, he digs out the last cookie from the trash can and snaps it in half. Then, he feeds it to me again. "Daddy, let's eat."

The fake daughter only sneezed. My three brothers reacted as if she were on her deathbed, crowding around her anxiously and refusing to let her out of their sight. So when she pointed her finger at me again, insisting I had shoved her into the pool, they accepted her story without a second thought. They hauled me to a deserted walk-in freezer, sealed the door behind me at -58°F, and made sure the only escape was out of reach. I screamed for my oldest brother, the CEO, to let me out. He called me a cruel attention seeker. I begged my second brother, the doctor. He told me I finally got what I deserved. I begged my third brother, the big-shot attorney. He just sneered. "You've always been jealous of Chloe. Now you pushed her into the pool when you knew she was fragile? You really are rotten. Someone like you needs to stay in there and cool off." Then, they bundled Chloe into their arms and rushed her to the hospital over a sneeze. Bit by bit, warmth seeped from my body, until it seemed like ice was flowing through my veins instead of blood. After thirty-six hours, I slipped away, lost to the cold. Three days later, Chloe returned from the hospital, and only then did my brothers remember I existed. But by then, the freezer had already claimed me.