Aro Volturi Laugh Novels & Stories

After eight years of love, Liz Smith went from being the woman Zac Lincoln once saw as the love he could never forget, to someone he couldn’t wait to get rid of. She had spent three years trying to hold on, giving everything she had. But once her last bit of affection ran dry, she finally gave up and walked away. On the day they broke up, Zac sneered coldly and said, “Liz, I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging me to take you back.” But what came instead wasn’t a plea—it was news that she was getting married. Furious, he called her. “Are you done with your little game?” A deep male voice answered from the other end. “Mr. Lincoln, my fiancée is in the shower. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Zac let out a bitter laugh and hung up. He convinced himself it was just another one of Liz’s tricks—playing hard to get. It wasn’t until her wedding day, when he saw her in a white gown, holding a bouquet, walking down the aisle toward another man, that reality finally hit him. Liz had truly let him go. Like a madman, he pushed through the crowd and rushed to her. “Liz, I know I was wrong. Please don’t marry someone else. Please.” Liz lifted her dress and walked right past him. “Didn’t you say you and Xena were perfect for each other? Why are you kneeling at my wedding now, Mr. Lincoln?”

“Why… am I in your bedroom?” My voice dropped into a whisper. He breathed out a laugh, the sound carrying a dangerously dark allure. He sat on the bed, and I hurriedly curled up my legs, desperate to gain more distance. He saw the movement, and his lips curled up. “You don't remember anything from last night, do you?” “L-last night?” I stuttered, crawling back against the headboard. “I bought you.” My body shuddered. I slowly lifted my head, facing him. “What… do you mean?” A smirk appeared. “You were a pretty item on the auction, and now you're mine.” *** After years of cruelty and abuse, I finally escaped from the one who hurt me, but my freedom was more fragile than I thought. I had run away from brutal prison only to be sold at the auction and locked up in a golden cage. My new owner was Grey Maledetti, the wealthiest and most feared man in New York. I thought I could escape him, but he wouldn't free me from his grasp. The more I tried to resist, the harder I was drawn toward him. He was dangerous. He was possessive. He was intoxicating. I breathed him in like a drug, slowly becoming an addict. I thought he would destroy me; instead, he mended what was broken. He embraced my every weakness and lent me his deadly strength. Grey Maledetti is no knight in shining armor. He is the King of Hell, and now his blade is pointed at those who hurt me…

Instead of my family’s private jet to the warrior camp, I chose a packed train—all for my mate, Alpha Kael. He claimed he wanted a romantic journey and a taste of a normal life. Just for one day. But when the train stopped, I severed our mate bond. He gasped, clutching his chest, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Elena… you’re doing this just because I gave Seraphina our private cabin?” “Yes.” He gave a bitter laugh, looking at me like I was a spoiled princess. “Baby, don’t be ridiculous. You know it's dangerous for an Omega to be alone. Especially when she's surrounded by so many predatory males.” “Name your price. My kills at camp? I’ll tell everyone I’m yours. Or… should I just mark you again?” Before I could answer, the Omega he was “protecting” whimpered his name. "I feel their eyes on me," Seraphina whimpered. "I'm scared." Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her, a human shield. He stalked possessively off the train with her in his arms. He never even gave me a second glance. Kael had no idea who he was protecting. The Omega he pitied was no victim. Seraphina belonged to a trafficking ring that preyed on lone she-wolves. It wasn’t until he found me kidnapped and broken that he collapsed, begging for a forgiveness that was long gone. But I had already sent a mind-link to the only man who could destroy him. My father. The Lycan Chairman. The one man with the power to make or break any Alpha. “Cut off Kael's resources. All of them. Now.”

"You're nothing but a dirty pet human to me," Damien sneered, his predatory step making me cower. "Get away from me. I would sue you the minute I escape from here," I retorted, my voice trembling with fear. "Sue me? A Lycan king?" His laugh sent shivers down my spine. "Let's see if you'll ever escape," he grinned wickedly, grabbing me and slamming me against the wall as I winced in pain. "You're mine to break, Talia," his words hit me like a bucket of ice water, his fiery red eyes piercing into mine, sending a chill down my spine. I had to escape. *** After escaping from the mental asylum where she had been imprisoned, Talia finds herself abducted and brought to the werewolf kingdom as a pet slave for the Lycan king—a reality she never knew existed. As she delves deeper into Damien's mysterious world, her feelings for him begin to blossom, leading her down a path filled with danger and intrigue. But when she discovers a shocking connection between her past and Damien's, her world is turned upside down. Amidst escalating tensions and betrayals, Talia and Damien's bond is put to the test, and they must confront their deepest fears and desires to survive in a world where love and loyalty are at war with themselves. Will they emerge victorious, or will the shadows of the past consume them both? Find out in this spellbinding tale of "The Lycan's Forbidden Queen," where forbidden love collides with dark secrets, and the line between predator and prey blurs into oblivion.

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty... I finally stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs, ready to see what was going on. Just then, I heard Luca’s friends whispering in a thick Sicilian dialect. "This American guy... her head is greener than a lemon tree in Palermo and she doesn’t even know it." "I bet Luca and Fiona are having the time of their lives in there right now." "Poor Boston girl. Look at her, sitting there like a loyal little dog. Hilarious." I froze. My blood turned to ice, and the air felt too thin to breathe. Suddenly, the storage room door creaked open. Luca walked out, wiping sweat from his brow, followed closely by Fiona, who was busy smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "Whoa, how was it? Seven minutes in heaven live up to the hype?" someone teased. Luca smirked, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Better. I didn't want to leave."

Two months before the public ceremony Marco had sworn would finally recognise me as his wife, he announced his engagement online, to no one in particular, but everyone assumed it was to me. And so they congratulated me. After seven years at his side, after I had stabilised the Fontana family, crushed three internal revolts, and secured enough elders' votes to make him the next Don, everyone, including myself, took it for granted that I would be the woman standing beside him. Until I paused outside a private room and heard his friends laughing. "Marco, your Donna selection list is insane. Twelve women, one ring, and you grade them every month?" A whistle. "Right now it's down to Elena and that little nightclub girl you keep in the penthouse, isn't it?" "What if you don't marry Elena after all this?" another man asked. "She gave you seven years. She might lose her mind." Marco's lazy laugh cut through the smoke. "Whoever performs best becomes my wife. Fair rule." The room erupted. "Come on, you're obviously favouring your mistress. Elena can't win if you keep giving that girl perfect scores." His voice turned playful, almost amused. "I gave Elena the chance. If she still loses, she can only blame herself." I stood frozen, the blood draining from my heart. After a long silence, I pulled out my phone and called my father. "Dad, I agree to come home." "I'll accept the marriage alliance arranged by the Commission."

She’s texting him her heart. But she’s got the wrong number… When Isabel “El” Watson applied for a sales job with her company, she had no idea a jelly donut would explode on her blouse, or that her grumpy boss would practically laugh her out of the interview. Accountants could be salespeople, she was sure of it, even if that jerkface didn’t think so. So when a lady at the local wine festival offers her a sales job on the spot at a new boutique winery, El jumps at the chance. She also jumps at the chance to text with the guy who danced with her at the festival. Life was finally looking up. Boston’s friend, Chad, never should have given Boston’s number to the girl at the wine festival as a joke, but the damage was done. When El sends Boston a text later that night, believing he is Chad, he’s too nice to hurt her feelings by telling her the truth. But there are a few other truths Boston might have thought about: Truth #1: He’s her boss Truth #2: She just accepted a job at his mother’s new winery Truth #3: He’s always had a crush on her Even though Boston is no longer El’s grumpy boss, they still work together at his mom’s winery. And while sparks are flying as they get to know each other for real, El’s kind of sweet on the guy who always seems to know just what to say via text too. Obviously, things will come to a head. Will Boston come clean about the flirty texts being from him? Or will El figure out on her own that she’s been Texting With the Enemy?

BLURB: She looks even more mesmerizing than she was the first time I saw her. Her hair is neatly packed and her blue eyes are enchanting. She has on a blue gown which compliments her eyes and I can't help but feel a very strong connection to this goddess in front of me... "It's you again the pervert. you're not stalking me right?" She asks with raised brows. "You met me here princess, maybe you're the one stalking me," I say chuckling. "The last time we met was on a bad note and I apologize for my bad manners princess, can we please start over again? I promise to be more cultured." "Stop calling me that! my name is Natalia perv" she snaps. "Okay I get it princess...sorry Natalia" This makes her chuckle..and even her laugh is making me hard… Sebastián, son of the former Gamma of the Bloodmoon pack. He's seen as weak and incapable of ever being a threat to the Alphas of the Silvercrest and Whitefang pack who killed and beheaded his father in a very bloody war. What they don't know is the darkness already matured inside of him. And with every passing day, he gets closer to his quest for revenge. But what happens when he finds out the woman he happens to be in love with who also happens to be his Mate Natalia is the daughter of his sworn enemy. Does he reject her and go through his plans for revenge or does he go through the path of forgiveness which would entail being an enemy to his mother forever?

On our sixth wedding anniversary, my cheeks burn as I dodge my husband, Ethan Grant, leaning in for a hungry kiss. I push him toward the nightstand for a rubber. What he doesn't know is that I've tucked a surprise in there, a positive pregnancy test. I can already see it, the way his whole face will light up the second he finds it. But the moment his hand goes for the drawer, his phone goes off. His best friend, Henry Miller, comes on the line in Danish. "Mr. Grant, how was last night? That new love couch our company rolled out is treating you okay?" Ethan lets out a low laugh and answers in Danish, "The massage feature's great. Saves me from having to rub Sandy's back myself." He still has me pulled tight against him, but his eyes look straight through me, like he's seeing someone else. "This stays between us. If my wife ever finds out I slept with her sister, I'm done." It feels like someone just put a knife through my chest. What they don't know is that I minored in Danish in college, so I catch every single word. I force myself to stay calm, but the arms I have looped around Ethan's neck won't stop shaking. At that moment, I stop hesitating and decide I'll take the offer from that international research project. Three days from now, I'll be gone from Ethan's world for good.

On the day my CEO boyfriend, Benjamin West, and I go register our marriage, his manipulative female assistant, Chelsea Miller, suddenly hands over her own completed application to the clerk first. Just like that, the marriage certificate that is supposed to belong to me and Benjamin becomes one hers and his instead. Taken aback, I anxiously ask what is going on. But Chelsea suddenly drops to her knees dramatically and cries in despair, "Giselle, this is all my fault! My child needs a local address to enroll in school. If it hadn't been for that, I would never have resorted to a fake marriage with Benjamin." She even sobs inconsolably and threatens to smash her head against the wall so as to make it up to me with her death. Benjamin is usually clear-headed and can easily distinguish right from wrong. But this time, not only does he not defend me, but he even slaps me in public! He fumes, "Chelsea is a single mother. She's only doing this for her child. Do you really have to be so petty? It's just a marriage certificate. Once her child gets into school, I will divorce her. Can't we register our marriage a little later? Is it necessary to back her into a corner?" "Hurry up and apologize to Chelsea. Then, give half of your salary to her as compensation. If you cooperate, I can lend you the marriage certificate for Chelsea and me so you can take some photos and show off in the family group chat. Otherwise, forget about marrying me." I laugh humorlessly. "Then let's not register our marriage at all." Not only do I no longer want the marriage certificate, but I also don't want him anymore.