Burn It Down Novels & Stories

The night I find out I'm pregnant, my family's villa suddenly goes up in flames. I endure the suffocating smoke and run the risk of being disfigured as I run to my son's bedroom. However, it's empty. Just then, I hear his excited exclamations outside the window. "Monica, you look so cool when putting out fires! I bet you'll get first place in this upcoming Firefighter Challenge!" I'm about to head downstairs to lecture him when a wall collapses and crushes me. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I hear my stern, stoic husband praise Monica Sloan for her courage. If I'm guessing correctly, my husband and son have started this fire to please her. I stare at the door, which is so close and yet so far. I send out one final text before dying of asphyxiation.

After recovering from breast cancer, my fiancé started making excuses to stay out all night. On my birthday, I finally tracked him down on a yacht where he was joking with his friends. "I figured once she died, the engagement would be off the table. Who knew she'd be so hard to die.” "But I've got a brilliant plan—I'll fake my death at the wedding. We can livestream it and watch how this woman who worships me to the core breaks down in tears." I couldn't help but smile to myself. If Travis Luther could play dead, so could I. In the end, he was the one who broke down sobbing, begging me not to walk away.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

Nathan Brooks had been tangled up with his secretary for far too long. All I did was ask one simple question. “Has Chloe Bennett resigned yet?” That was enough to make him hurl the glass in his hand at me. “You jealous, bitter woman,” he snapped. “Because of your jealousy, you drove Chloe away. “I told you I’m not divorcing you, Emily. Isn’t that enough for you?” I said nothing. I only looked down at the cut on my arm, where the shattered glass had sliced through my skin, then quietly bent down and picked up the broken pieces. What Nathan didn’t know was that I had already drawn up the divorce papers.

My husband, Dante, the Consigliere of the Falcone family, and I hated each other more than any two people on earth. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because his heart had never been mine. We shared a bed for seven years, but the words we exchanged most were not of love, but of venomous curses. But on the night a rival family's motorcade stormed the estate, everything changed. I remember the firefight lighting up half the city. Dante threw himself in front of me, shielding me with his body. "Survive," he said, his voice as steady as ever. He drew his gun. As he turned to face them, a hailstorm of bullets erupted. As armor-piercing rounds tore through his vest and slammed into his body, he turned to look at me. It was the only time in seven years he had ever looked me in the eye. His large frame barred the doorway, stopping any gunman from crossing the threshold. "If there's a next life, promise me this, Principessa. Let me protect the one I was always meant to." That night, the glory of our family turned to ash, and the streets ran red with blood. As our enemies closed in, I triggered the explosives in the car. The flames consumed everything. When I opened my eyes again, I was walking into my father's study. "The family in Ashpoint needs a bride to seal a truce," I said, meeting the gaze of my father, the Don of the Falcone family. "I'll go." In my past life, he died believing he had failed my half-sister, Sofia. This time, I wouldn't let that regret haunt him. I would take Sofia's place and board the flight north. Let Sofia stay. Let Dante protect the woman he was meant to protect. But why, when he lifted the white veil of the woman he loved in this life, did he regret it?

On my wedding day, my husband abandoned me to marry his childhood sweetheart, while I was tortured to death. *** Yeah. That was how my first life ended, pathetic. Wasn't it? I was the perfect fiancée: quiet, obedient, hopelessly in love with a man who never loved me back. For three years, I erased myself to become Adrian Whitmore's first love, Isabella Clarke, the woman he truly loved. I cooked for him, fought for him, and even gave up my father's company for him. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Humiliation. Death. But heaven gave me another chance. I wake up three years earlier, at our engagement party. The same party where Adrian threw our rings into the pool and I—desperate and pathetic—dove in to retrieve them. Not this time. This time, I throw the rings back in his face. I expose his secrets, reclaim my father's empire, and walk away from the man who never deserved me. But Adrian isn't ready to let go. The obedient woman who worshipped him is gone, replaced by someone he can't control or predict. For the first time in his arrogant life, he wants what he can't have—me. Too bad I'm done being anyone's second choice. With a sweet billionaire offering genuine devotion and a dangerous mafia boss promising absolute protection, I finally have options. Meanwhile, Adrian watches helplessly as I become everything he never let me be. In my first life, I died for love. In my second life, everyone who hurt me will pay.

Three years ago, he gave up on his massive fortune to lead a reclusive life in the countryside with his mentor. Three years later, he returns over a marriage agreement. To his surprise, the engagement is called off. "Who do you think you are? You're nothing but a quack doctor from the countryside! How can you possibly be worthy of me, the Dragonia's first goddess of war?"

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

"🥺Please don't divorce me Mr. Billionaire, I am pregnant for you." "Fuck you! And fuck your bastard! Get out of my mansion." **** Ramsey Wendel, an arrogant Billionaire was matched to marry Elsa Norton, the beloved granddaughter of The Norton's. Out of his egocentric nature, he breaks Elsa's heart on their wedding altar; He demands Mandy Norton, Elsa's cousin, as his wife instead. Mandy, who was already in love with another, is forced into marriage with the ruthless Billionaire, out of choice. Mandy is threatened by her grandfather to never disobey or hurt Ramsey if not it will lead to consequences. Mandy falls in love with Ramsey later on and begins building her home. But everything turned to ash when Serena Fenton, Ramsey's CEO stepped into their bond. Ramsey secretly had an affair with Serena, keeping Mandy in the dark. Serena comes up with a plan that could eliminate Mandy from their lives for good; Ramsey buys her idea. How will matters unfold when Mandy Norton wakes up to a divorce Paper?

Veatrice and Anna are sisters that are trying to survive kingdoms' conflict and ostracism due to birth and rank. Join them on their adventures in love and protecting their king and queen.