Anime Christmas Outfit Novels & Stories

I gave Evan Cole six years. I changed my name, walked away from the Moretti family, and became the kind of woman he could handle: quiet, useful, easy to overlook. I paid the bills, fixed his proposals, opened doors he thought had opened by luck, and waited every time he said we were almost ready. Then Maracame back. His first love. The woman he swore he hated until the second she needed him again. After that, I became the problem. Too jealous. Too dramatic. Too hard to please. Evan thought I would break down and beg for my place. While he played house with Mara, I saved every receipt, every post, every lie. Then I cut off the money behind his perfect little life and called my family. On Christmas Eve, he asked if I would wait. I smiled and let him believe Leah was still waiting. By the time he learned my real name, Alessia Moretti was already gone, and the mafia princess he never knew had finally chosen herself.

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

Jordan Sanders had a one-night stand at a Christmas party after having too much to drink. She woke up the next morning with no memory of the night and her thought now was of the interview that she might be late for. After entering the office of Cameron Carter (CEO) of Carter's Enterprise Holdings, he said something she never expected. "It's you." "Yes, I'm here for an interview." "No." He shook his head. "Yes." I nodded mine. "Don't you remember? We spent last night together." He declared. I lurched back at his words. "Maybe I can jog your memory." He gave a lopsided smirk. Before I could process what he was doing, his lips were on mine. Kissing me deeply. After her failed interview, Jordan's life seems to spiral out of control, she learns that Cameron Carter blacklisted her from ever being able to get a job in America. Her mother is sick and her past is catching up to her. But despite all this, Jordan has yet another one-night stand. This time with Jasper Morgan. But who will Jordan choose when both men start to show interest in her?

I've raised my son, Caleb Bennett, for nine years, but today I found out he was never mine. Claire Bennett, my wife, shamelessly tells me to leave with nothing. She says Caleb's real father is Lincoln Lancaster, heir to the most powerful family in Berglaton. The Lancaster family has few direct heirs left, so if Lincoln acknowledges Caleb as his son, Lincoln can easily surpass his frail uncle and become the rightful successor. Caleb says, "You think you deserve to be my dad? My real father could crush your whole family with a snap of his fingers!" Margaret Quigley, Claire's mother, adds, "If Claire hadn't gotten pregnant with Lincoln's child back then, do you really think we'd have let someone like you marry into our family?" I don't fight back. I just sign the divorce papers in silence. After that, I take out my phone and call my father, James Lancaster, who has been waiting for me in Berglaton all these years. "Come pick me up on Christmas Eve," I say. "I'm ready to go home and take over the family."

After Nathan Seville stands me up for the seventh time we're supposed to register our marriage, I finally cut all ties with him—completely and on my own terms. If he shows up at a gathering, I don't go. If he's invited to perform at the college anniversary, I leave early. The moment my company decides to work with him, I resign on the spot. Even on Christmas Eve, when he shows up at my house with gifts, I make up an excuse about needing to visit someone. Calls? Blocked. Socials? Deleted. My strategy is simple—cut it all off. I don't reach out, and he has no way of finding me. For the first 30 years of my life, I spent most of it loving him with everything I had. I cared for him, supported him, and waited for him. But after being left hanging for the seventh time at the City Hall, I finally wake up. I don't want to live like this anymore. Even if I end up alone, it's still better than spending night after night waiting in an empty house that never feels like home!

On our Christmas break road trip, my cousin Felix Lloyd spotted some high-powered speakers at a highway rest stop. He had to have them—said he wanted to "blast it." "It's Christmas. We finally get to see everyone! We need some vibe!" My wife, Lana Ramsey, smiled and helped him pay. "Young people have energy. They know how to enjoy life." I yanked the power cord out. "Those aren't for regular cars. This is an EV. Overload it, and the whole system fries. Then what—just stuck in the middle of nowhere?" Lana's parents, Vincent and Donelia, booed me, calling me a buzzkill. Felix cranked the volume all the way up. Lana glared at me. "Say one more word and get out. I'll drive." Later, the speakers fried the battery system. We were stranded in total darkness on a rough mountain road. They finished the last of the food, then shoved me out to "go find help." I slipped, rolled down the slope, and died. When I opened my eyes, I was back—right when Felix jammed the speaker plug into the charging port. I grabbed a few more subwoofers and handed them over. "One isn't enough. Add more. That's how you really crank it."

My mother has volunteered at our neighborhood church for over a decade. Christmas drives, Sunday service, any neighbor in trouble, she's the first one there. Everyone says God sent her to us. She thinks so too. She says God wants her to be generous, so she is. The thing is, when no one's watching, the generosity always comes out of my pocket. After she remarried, she doted on my half-sister Serena. Serena picked up a box of cold medicine for her, and Mom handed Serena the keys to my Tesla. Serena mentioned she needed to renew her car insurance, and Mom wired her the surgery fund I'd been saving for two years for my daughter Emma. That afternoon, Emma collapsed on the floor, lips turning blue, gasping for air. Her medicine was crushed into the carpet. Mom fished the last pill out of her pocket and dangled it in front of me. "Apologize to your sister, and I'll give Emma the pill." I got on my knees. But that same day, she gave away the cardiology appointment I'd spent three months getting. She gave it to Serena. What she didn't know was that the name on the appointment was her own.

I grew up with the Vipera brothers. They have always considered me their younger sister and spoiled me silly. But after that car accident, my relationship with them changes completely. The accident leaves me with severe burns on my body, and I'm in constant agony. On top of that, my face is disfigured too. The moment I'm wheeled out of the ICU, I call the Vipera brothers to let them know that I'm safe. However, the only response I get from them is an impatient dismissal. "Sofia, Bianca hurt her fingers during the accident. We're taking care of her now. Don't bother us by throwing a tantrum." Soon, Bianca Rossi uploads a selfie of herself with the Vipera brothers in a luxurious hospital room. She's wearing three wolf fang bracelets on her wrist. I'd given those to the Vipera brothers as a Christmas gift last year. To get the fangs from the particular species of wolves they liked, I trekked through the jungle alone with a gun and battled feral wolves the entire night. I completely let go of any remaining feelings toward the famiglia that raised me and decide to leave them for good. When the Vipera brothers see me again at a grand banquet held by the Ferro famiglia, they are overwhelmed with regret.

Josephine Carter is drowning. Her mother’s medical bills are piling up, her bank account is a disaster, and the only professional outfit she owns is her mother’s ancient pantsuit. Becoming a surrogate is her last chance to save the one person she loves most. But on the morning of her evaluation, Jo crashes her tank‑of‑a‑sedan into a shiny red sports car owned by the rudest, most arrogant, most unfairly handsome man she’s ever met. She yells at him. He yells back. She runs away.Then she finds out she’s going to carry his child. Derek Blackwell—Alpha of the Blackwell Pack, billionaire, and the agency’s most sought‑after client—is looking for a surrogate. Not for just any child. For the child he was meant to have with his late mate. His wife died of a rare illness after a lifetime of fighting it. They never mated, never completed the bond, never had the chance to start the family they dreamed of. But she froze her eggs before she passed, leaving Derek with one final piece of her… and one impossible choice. He needs an heir. But he can’t bring himself to choose another mate. Not when his heart still belongs to the woman he lost. And fate, in all its twisted humour, has matched him with the chaotic woman who dented his car and insulted him in traffic. Now Jo has to convince the Alpha she accidentally assaulted that she’s responsible enough to carry his child. And Derek has to decide whether the woman who crashed into his life might be the only one strong enough to carry his future.The contract is simple. The emotions are not. And the line between enemies, partners, and something dangerously close to destiny is getting thinner every day.

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen. But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment. The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens. Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker. "Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?" I froze. Alex was here? A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?" It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards. He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims. Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company. I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise. Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button. Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony. The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides. Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die. Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die." He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me. They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.