Book After Onyx Storm Novels & Stories

Alexander Brookes was once a rising star in the competitive world of business, until the love of his life, Alessia , left for Paris, crushing his hopes. Diverting into depression and frequent drunkenness, he gave in to his father's opinion , marrying Camilla—a woman he hardly knows—in a loveless arrangement intended to save his reputation. For three years, their marriage has been frigid, but when Alessia unexpectedly returns, Alex's addiction reignites, blinding him to the love that has gradually built between him and Camilla. Camilla realizes she is pregnant, a secret that might change everything, just as their lives cross paths again. As Alex battles his problems and accepts the consequences of his decisions, Alessia's envy leads to a catastrophic kidnapping of Camilla's child, forcing him and Camilla to collaborate. In a high-stakes game of love, betrayal, and forgiveness, will Alex find the courage to recover his life and become the father and partner they deserve?

At the birthday banquet of the old Godfather, Salvatore Moretti, the estate was bustling with high-profile guests. Don Marco Moretti arrived late, bringing along his new secretary, Sophie. "Elena, move to the opposite side. It's Sophie's first time at an event like this, and she’s used to sitting next to me." I didn't hesitate for a single second. Picking up my wine glass, I walked straight over and sat down beside Salvatore, whose face was completely grim. Marco raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by how compliant I was. He then guided a visibly nervous Sophie into the seat that had just been mine. Soon after, my phone buzzed in my hand. 【Are you making a scene again? How many times do I have to tell you? I just brought the girl out to show her the world. Stop throwing these pathetic, jealous tantrums.】 【I’ll fly you to Paris next week to pick out your wedding dress. Stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?】 I let out a soft laugh. Seeing the smile on my face from across the table, Marco smiled back, thinking he had smoothed things over. What he didn't know—What I was actually laughing at was the fact that we wouldn't be going to Paris at all. Exactly ten minutes before he walked through the door, I had already finalized the dissolution of our engagement with Salvatore. A notification from the airline popped up on my screen: Flight departing in three hours. Marco, after tonight, you and I are completely finished.

When I was seven months pregnant, my husband, Brandon Adkins, got into a car accident. I held my belly and rushed over as fast as I could, but by the time I got there, his body was already mangled beyond recognition. The shock hit so hard that I started bleeding right there. At my lowest point, it was the eldest son of the Elledges who got me to the hospital and handled Brandon's funeral. Three years later, Brandon showed up out of nowhere, holding his first love. He pulled me into a tight embrace, voice soft as he explained, "I'm sorry. Alanna was terminally ill. Her last wish was to travel the world. I was afraid you wouldn't agree, so I faked my death. "Now that her wish has been fulfilled, we can go back to the way things were." I looked into his affectionate eyes, then shoved him away in disgust. "Too bad for you. In the three years you were gone, I got engaged to someone else."

When Zack Davis went bankrupt, I used all my savings of 20 thousand dollars to buy him. “You’re willing to buy me even if I don’t love you?” he asked indifferently. My heart raced as I replied quietly, “Yes.” After that, we got married, paid back his debts, and founded another company. It only took Zack three years for his company to become a new star in the Asterfield. Everything seemed to have gone smoothly. He also only belonged to me. However, what I didn’t know was that he hated me. He hated me for destroying all his pride and for buying him with only 20 thousand dollars. When I decided to let go and divorce Zack, he went crazy. He knelt down in front of me with pleading eyes. “Anna, you still love me, right?”

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

After seven years of marriage, Marisol Speight's husband, Lucian Muller, is unpredictable and treats her with cold indifference as if she's nothing. She once believed that after marrying Lucian, she would one day win his heart and live a happy, fulfilling life. However, on a snowy anniversary that only she remembers, she finally realizes that Lucian and his family are happy enough without her. She'll never be anything more than an outsider who can't blend in. He hates her for making him break his promise to marry his childhood friend; their son mocks her for falling short in every way when compared to said childhood friend… Marisol is doubly betrayed by her husband and son. They're as intimate with another woman as they never were with her. She laughs self-deprecatingly at the mess that is her life. Then, she loses hope in them and asks for a divorce. She gives up custody of her son and leaves, later becoming a globally renowned fashion designer and genius painter—her work isn't accessible to just about anyone. Unexpectedly, her husband and son refuse to let her go despite her already giving up on them. Her son cries, "You're my mom! You can't hold other children!" Her husband, who has always been cold and indifferent, turns clingy and refuses to agree to the divorce. "You're the one who chose me, so you have to bear the responsibility for life! You want a divorce? Dream on!"

I have one job in this world, and that's to seduce my adopted uncle. I've been infatuated with him for as long as I remember and now that I'm home alone with him, I'm pulling every single trick in the box to get him to be with me. What I didn't anticipate was how interested he would be with it... This is our forbidden love story. .... Layla has always been attracted to her Uncle Dante for as long as she can remember. When her parents leaves for a vacation, leaving just her and Dante home alone, she uses this opportunity to seduce him and bring him to her bed. The two embark on a two-week long sexcapade, where all of Layla's dark desires is been fulfilled. But she's slowly falling in love with her Uncle and has no idea how to navigate the forbidden relationship she has with him... What will be the end result of their relationship? Find out!! Note: THIS IS A SPICY BOOK, WITH ELEMENTS OF BDSM, AGE GAP, REVERSE HAREM AND FORBIDDEN LOVE. THERE IS NO BIOLOGICAL RELATIONS BETWEEN THE CHARACTERS AND THE FL IS OF LEGAL AGE.

After getting married, I followed my wife to the desert to help build up a remote research base. After months of severe drought, I applied for 17 ounces of water just to wash my hair. But as station chief, June Sheffield rejected me without hesitation. "The water supply has to go toward cultivating the samples first. You need to learn how to tough it out." Then the next moment, I came across a new post the intern had uploaded on social media. 'Wanted to try an outdoor bath, and Ms. Sheffield approved a whole ton of water without even blinking! She even set up the bath tent herself. I'm so happy.' Furious, I went straight to confront June Sheffield. Usually cold and distant, she softened her tone for once. "Conditions here are harsh. If Morgan can't handle it and decides to leave, the base will end up even more short-staffed. You're one of the core staff members. Once the project pays out, your share alone will be at least four million. An intern like him doesn't get that kind of treatment." In the end, I swallowed my anger. That was, until the first-quarter project wrapped up. When there was still no movement in my account, I nervously contacted headquarters. The moment I gave my identity, the person on the other end sounded stunned. "You're just an intern. What project bonus are you talking about? And the head of the research department has always been Morgan Wilder." I stared at June's signature on the personnel registration list and suddenly understood everything. Without another word, I packed my bags and booked a flight home. Life in the desert was bitterly cold and unforgiving. This time, I was not staying.

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”

“Honey, let’s make a baby together so that you won’t leave me.” I resisted, but my husband ignored it and forced himself onto me. After that, I did it with him 520 times, each time a nightmare for me. Even when he was on business trips, he had to monitor my every move via video, terrified that I would run away. However, one day, I received an invitation to an art exhibition. The intimate gestures between my husband and me had been turned into works of art, filling the entire gallery. My husband held a young female intern by the waist, his gaze sweeping over me with indifference. “Two years ago, you insisted on going against Tiara over an art collectible and suppressed her during the auction, spending lavishly just to humiliate her.” “Now there are 520 art pieces here, an exhibition showcasing your disgrace. If you don’t want them falling into someone else’s hands, you’ll need to bid on them one by one.”