Aro Volturi Laugh Novels & Stories

I live in my own world since I was young. Or should I say I closed the door from everyone. My family's brand was music, and I hate it. I became a girl who kept everything to herself and never voice out her opinion. Why would I? It's just a waste of breath, they will never listen to her anyway. Until I met a friend who opened my closed heart and let me know that living with someone was happier. My friend, my best friend, Layla. She becomes my light in my dark world. Everything she does, right or wrong, when she cried or laugh, I will always stay by her side. Yes, I'm a loyal friend. So I tried to help a certain good man that really loved her and could make her happier. But turns out I fell to that man. Hard. Head first. I kept it to myself not until I found out that my friend was in love with another man. Oh, how happy I am. But the problem is, this man clung hardly to my best friend. Oh, what will I gonna do? Should I seduce him? However another problem kept popping. This threats... Who made them? **** This is a story of second female lead of a certain love story being in love with the second male lead. It is not only romance, but also with a hint of a thrill.

"Did you ever, even once, imagine yourself loving me?" Sarah posed a hopeful question to Philip. "Don’t make me laugh, Sarah. Everything between us has been purely about pleasure and business.” Sarah had harbored feelings for Philip ever since she first saw him in a sports magazine. When his fiancée abandoned him at the altar to elope with another man, Sarah selflessly offered herself as a replacement bride to spare his embarrassment. After enduring three years of a loveless and toxic marriage, Sarah finally summoned the courage to divorce Philip, who was still pining for his former fiancée. She vowed to herself that she would find another man who would love, trust, and worship her like a queen. This is what she sought if she were to marry a second time. A year later, their paths crossed again. Philip confronted Sarah in a ladies’ restroom, demanding, “Do not let other men touch you!” Sarah remained indifferent; her demeanor noticeably changed. “And what if I do?” she retorted. Philip’s tone grew menacing, “You won’t like what I’d do.” Unfazed, Sarah shot back, “Mr. Cornell, I’ve never liked what you’ve done, even in the past. There’s nothing new about that, and please stop whining like a baby,” before turning and walking away, disdainfully leaving him behind.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

My son is dying. That is the only truth that matters. Not that I am a half-blood with no pack standing. Not that my Crosser's Permit expired six months ago, and every night I fall asleep wondering if tonight is the night they come for us. Not that I mop floors and scrub blood off marble tiles in a hotel that belongs to the most dangerous wolf family in Silver Hollow, a city that does not officially exist, hidden inside Las Vegas like a knife inside a smile. My name is Tara De Leon. I was once a healer good enough to have been recruited by three different pack academies. Now I am invisible. A cleaning woman. A ghost in a uniform. I became invisible on purpose. Because invisible women survive. And survival is all I have left to give my son. Kai is seven years old. He has his father's jaw and my mother's eyes and a laugh that sounds like something the moon herself invented. He also has Fade Sickness, a supernatural disease that is slowly, quietly, methodically dissolving his wolf-soul from the inside out. Without the Blood Resonance Treatment, available only in Silver Hollow, available only to those with pack connections and pack money, he has maybe eight months. Maybe less. I would burn down every pack in this city to buy him one more day. I just never thought I would have to.

I did everything against my beliefs in marriage. The day our worlds collided, I hated his guts. If you think a man who is striking—so damn good-looking, shallow, narcissistic, and extremely rich like Mykel Creed will ask the love of his life to marry him? You’re wrong. It was me who asked—a complete stranger, a hardworking independent woman who took a different path from the family business. Yet, right now, I’m marrying him for my inheritance. I blame myself for my self-defeating action. It doesn’t take long for me to realize my biggest mistake is marrying the right man for the wrong reason until my actions speak the loudest, and my heart starts to get a mind of its own. *** Not so long ago, my only priority was making billions with a little bit of fun along the way. Yet it only took Adley Kross a minute to make me agree to marry her—the woman who called me names. If you think I will laugh in her face, call her nuts, and show her the way out? You’re wrong. Well, I owed her, and now she comes to collect it, but that’s not the point—she had me at the first sway of her ass. I blame myself for being drawn to those sterling eyes and her gorgeous curves. But being with her seems to matter more than my money and being bound to her stupid terms.

She thought the worst thing that could happen to her had already happened. Her husband. His assistant. Eight years of marriage quietly falling apart on a Tuesday afternoon while she was at work. She was wrong. Evelyn Harper bought the house on Harrow Hill to disappear. Remote. Abandoned. Cheap enough to make her laugh out loud at two in the morning. She should have asked why it was so cheap. From the very first night, something in the walls knew her name. Evelyn. Low and unhurried. The way someone speaks your name when they have been waiting a very long time to say it out loud finally. Then came the touch. Fingertips, cool and deliberate, ghosting along the inside of my thigh. I shifted, half asleep, my legs parting before I could think better of it. The touch climbed higher, slow and patient, tracing the seam of me, circling the ache that bloomed hot and sudden between my legs. I was embarrassingly wet, instantly wet ,hips rocking into nothing, chasing the sensation. Then she knew that; Something ancient lived in that house. Something that had chosen her specifically. Something that had been waiting for her bloodline for over a century. And the lonely man who follows her into its darkness may be the only thing standing between Evelyn and losing herself forever. Some houses don't just haunt you They own you.

I believe it is yours Renee" the way my name rolled off his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure right into my core, causing my legs to squeeze together, but I still couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes, he extended his hand revealing my lost necklace. "It smells like you." His voice almost breathless. I could feel his chest touch my back. He didn't need to be this close to put a necklace on me. His smell was overpowering me, my legs felt weak causing me to lean into him a little more. “You run really fast; you know?" He said with a laugh, he was so close I could feel his breath fan my ear then I could have sworn he brought his head even closer to the nook of my neck and took a deep breath of my scent. My breath hitched in my lungs, and I squeezed my eyes closed telling myself that this must just be a dream. “There, back where it belongs.” I awkwardly replied. "Thank you, Alpha," I felt like every cell in my body was vibrating. I was becoming very aroused, and it was embarrassing if I barely moved, it might have caused me to moan in pleasure. What would he think of me, being so aroused in his presence.

In the final minute before the exam, my childhood friend, the one who was supposed to bring both of our exam documents, handed in only his own admission ticket. When it was my turn, his hands were empty. He said matter-of-factly, “Your exam ticket and ID aren’t here. Skip a subject and give your Cornell slot to Summer.” I froze. I couldn’t believe he would sabotage my college exam just to help Summer. Summer Hayes was the class beauty, but my grades had consistently outshined hers throughout high school. I looked at the boy I had known for eighteen years. Anger and disbelief bubbled up, making me laugh bitterly. Then I turned and walked away. Behind me, Jason Turner shouted, exasperated. “You are so good at school. So what if you repeat a year? “And now you are skipping the exam on a whim. How will that make Summer look? Are you really letting everyone think she forced you?” I didn’t even glance back. Skipping the exam on a whim. He had no idea. Two weeks ago, I had already secured an Early Admission spot in Harvard’s Physics Talent Program. Coming to the college entrance exam today was just a gesture of our eighteen-year friendship, going through the motions with him. Since he didn’t care, that friendship ended here.

"You know I can't talk while you're here", he says. His voice is rough, dangerous and hungry. I swallow, my throat dry. But I don't look away. "Why?" I ask, my fingers trace his jaw, trembling. "I'll be good. Promise". A dark laugh rumbles through his chest. "I don't want good", he says, voice rough. "I want you screaming my name… just not here. Not in front of the president and the damn press". His control slips as he buries his face in my neck. His lips burn where they touch. "Christ", he mutters. "What are you doing to me? I have a speech to deliver. But I can't even remember the first line. I swear I know it, but…" "You're a dirty bastard", I whisper, breathless. "Yours", he says, his teeth grazing my earlobe. "So… what do I tell the president?" –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Aneeka's messy divorce leaves her heartbroken. With her inheritance on the line, outwitting her cheating ex should be her only goal. But fate has other ideas. Just 24 hours after the divorce, she unexpectedly marries Derek Simon, the country's most eligible bachelor. What starts as a wild, prove a point kiss explodes into an undeniable, all consuming passion. The pull between them is real, hot, and impossible to ignore. Is this her second chance at love? Or a disaster waiting to happen?

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."