Ciel Pink Dress Novels & Stories

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

I married my vampire husband ten years ago and gave him a half-blood heir, abandoning my career as a painter to become a full-time mother. Fortunately, my son inherited my talent. At just six years old, he held his first solo art exhibition, inspired by the theme "My Mother." But he never let me attend, and he never let me see his paintings. My husband said my presence would make Luke nervous---that I should stay home and do the housework as a good wife and mother, and wait for them to come back. I told myself he was just young and didn't know better, that he was only pushing back against my discipline, not truly rejecting me. Until the day I snuck into the gallery wearing a surgical mask pulled low. In the center of the crowd, my husband held our son's hand while tenderly pulling a woman in a red dress into his arms. He turned to the guests and announced: "This is Luke's mother---my wife." The three of them stood together, beaming with perfect happiness. And I---the one who'd stayed up all night setting up this exhibition---stood before the paintings while not a single person recognized me. That was when I finally understood. My seemingly gentle, caring vampire husband had long ago given our son a replacement mother. And I was nothing more than the human nanny who'd served her purpose by producing an heir.

Antonio Rivera finally finds out that I haven't asked him for money in a week. For once, he sends me a text message to compliment me. "Darling, you've finally learned how to become a good Donna. I've had my men deliver this week's worth of miracle drugs to your mother's ward. As long as you remain docile and don't be greedy, I'll give you anything you want." What he doesn't know is that I'm printing out a divorce agreement when I receive his message while wearing an old dress from three years ago. No one will believe that I, the Donna of the Rivera family, have to ask Antonio's Consigliere, Elena Gallo, for money even when I need to buy myself some tampons. Hell, I have to apply for a leave request three days in advance if I wish to leave my home. Antonio keeps telling me that he's doing this to protect me. "It's too dangerous outside, sweetheart. All you have to do is stay at home like a good girl you are." But one week ago, Mom's illness took a turn for the worse. I begged Elena to skip the request and let me out of the villa. Elena, however, dragged out my request for seven long days. Only when Mom died did she finally permit me to leave. Miracle drugs? My mom is already dead. I'm no longer tolerating anyone or anything anymore.

They shattered her. Now she’s the storm coming to destroy them. For five years, Mona Smith was the perfect wife, silent, loyal, and invisible. Trapped in a golden cage, she clung to love while the Caldwell family tore her down piece by piece. They laughed at her. Belittled her. Treated her like dirt beneath their designer heels. Until the night it all fell apart. “Get out,” Emily Caldwell sneered, wine staining Mona’s dress like blood. “You were never one of us.” Framed. Humiliated. Abandoned by the man she gave everything to. The Caldwells thought they could toss her out and move on. But they made one fatal mistake. They let her live. Enter Alexander Kane, dangerous, untouchable, and worth more than empires. He offers Mona a deal: marry him, and he’ll give her the power to crush the people who destroyed her. Mona says yes. Not for love. For vengeance. But revenge has a cost, and Alexander has secrets darker than she ever imagined. As Mona claws her way into the ruthless world of power and privilege, she must decide: Will she burn them all to the ground? Or will she become the very monster she was trying to destroy? Because the most dangerous woman in the world… is the one they tried to break. --- "You wanted me broken?" Mona whispers, slipping on a diamond ring worth more than their entire legacy. "Congratulations. I’m broken. And now, I’m unstoppable." They wanted her silent. Now she’s their worst nightmare

[MATURE CONTENT]. His hand shot out and reached beneath the hem of River’s dress with a swiftness that startled her. A yelp escaped her lips as he yanked it upwards, exposing a bare thigh. Shame burned and took over every fiber in her. She shrank back, burying her face in her hands. This was torture. Why was he doing this to her? A sinister scoff escaped his lips. “What's wrong, little one?" he mocked, his face inches from hers. "Scared?" Scared? Yes. But of him? No. Of herself? Hell, yeah. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ River, an omega hybrid who was betrothed to an Alpha’s son since birth does nothing but dream of their future together. Her dream shatters on her 19th birthday when Gonzalo rejects her after revealing he is in a secret affair with her big sister. Heartbroken and betrayed, River attempts to flee to the human world, vowing never to return. However, she is instead snatched by a ruthless vampire who takes her back to his home as a prize. Unbeknownst to her, she carries Gonzalo's child. After years of serving the vampire who falls in love with her along the way, news of rogue attacks forces River to escape back to her pack. Though prepared for questions about her secret child, River isn't prepared for the simmering tension and passion with Gonzalo who is haunted by his past mistake and is desperate for forgiveness. She certainly doesn't expect him to forcefully claim her when she seems determined to hate him forever.

I was born a liar. That was the label my mother gave me. In the Dark Moon Pack, every pup carries a Lunar Mark on their wrist. Green means truth. Red means liar. My twin sister Maya slashed Mommy's ceremonial dress with a blade and blamed the pack hounds. Her wrist stayed soft and green. My mark went crimson when I said I was cold. "Mommy, I'm telling the truth. Please believe me." Elena would crouch down, look me in the eye, and say the same thing every time. "The Goddess's mark is absolute, Selena. Your own heart betrays you." She never touched me. She just looked at my wrist with disgust. No matter how honest I tried to be, my heart would race when I was scared. And every time my pulse spiked, the mark turned red. I lied when I said I was hungry. I lied when I said I loved her. I lied when I cried. After enough years, I stopped fighting back. I started to believe her. Maybe I really was broken. Maybe I was just born wrong. The night I died, I wrote one last line in my Penance Journal. "Mommy, help me. It hurts. Please — just believe me once." She never saw it. She had already locked the door and walked away. I'm sorry, Mommy. I died still trying to get it right. In my next life — will you hold me?

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

Warning!!! Content may contain BDSM, violence,taboo romance,weird kinks and is rated 18+ “Strip. Now.” His voice was low, lethal. My breath caught. “Adrian…” “Don’t say my name,” he growled, eyes dark with fury. “You think you can walk around in that tiny dress, letting other men stare at what’s mine? Take it off. Every piece. I want you naked and trembling before me.” “I..I didn’t mean..” “You meant to disobey. And for that, I’ll teach you exactly what happens to bad little virgins who tempt their husbands.” His lips brushed my ear, hot and cruel. “Strip!!, Bambina (doll). Or I’ll do it myself.” *** Elena Carter had been untouched all her life—the hidden heiress raised in shadows, her father’s secret weapon. He promised her everything—his fortune, his empire—if she destroyed Adrian Blackthorne, the ruthless rival he claimed had murdered her mother. Adrian needed an innocent wife to clean his reputation. Elena needed to play the part of the sweet virgin bride to ruin him from the inside. But nothing prepared her for nights that blurred punishment and pleasure, or for the cruel twist of fate...her ex, the man who broke her heart, was Adrian’s nephew. Now he wants her back and both men are willing to tear their family apart for her. Who will Elena chose?. She thought she was in control. She didn’t know she was the one being destroyed.

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes.She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat.There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn’t look away from. He complained to the family elders, “How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?” His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused.”The women of my family are wives, never mistresses.And my husband’s heart must belong only to me.” Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant.”Alessia, it’s just a title.I need you to give it to Chiara.Please? She doesn’t understand our family’s traditions, and she’s making a scene about marrying me.We just need to pacify her for now.Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family’s affairs.” As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger.A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. Since he chose someone else to be his wife, I will become his Madre.

My back hit the cold wall of the Alpha’s packhouse, my breath hitched in my throat as the triplets closed in—Asher, Alaric, and Argent. Asher leaned in first, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Sign the contract, Alisha,” he growled. “You’re ours. Your body, soul, and every filthy little sound you make.” I swallowed hard as Alaric’s fingers traced a circle around my swollen areola in an infuriating slow-mo. “See, your body is already responding, stop pretending you don’t want to be ruined by us.” Argent stepped in last, his hand skimming under the hem of my dress. “You’re trembling, sweetheart. Not from fear… but from need. Say the word, and we’ll own every inch of you.” “And if I say no?” my voice was shaky as I bit down the moan crawling up my throat. The three of them exchanged glances and then turned to me. And like a rehearsed lyric, they all unisoned. “Then we make you beg on your knees. And we won’t stop until you forget your own name… just ours.” Asher grabbed my chin, tilting it up. “Last chance, sweetheart. Safe word or surrender.” My lips parted. “I surrender.” That was all they needed. Alaric was behind me instantly, lips on my neck, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other dragging the strap of my dress down torturously slow. “Good girl,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re ours now.” •••••••• This is not just a love story. It’s survival. And it starts with rejection…