Diabolical Laughter Novels & Stories

One week before our wedding, my fiancé, my father’s own consigliere, sold him out.He set him up for a FBI raid. My father died in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and the once-great Moretti family collapsed overnight. In my darkest hour, Dominic, the Don of the New York Luciani family, showed up with a crew of mercenaries. He didn't just take care of the rat; he gave me total protection. He obsessed over me for three years, even tattooing my name over his heart. I fell for it. I believed he loved me. I let my guard down and stayed by his side, serving as the lead perfumer for the coldest man in the city. Until today. Outside the wine cellar, I overheard him talking to his rival. "Old man Moretti died never knowing who had leaked his location," Dominic said. "But imagine if that stupid woman, Elena, found out," the rival mocked. "If she knew the man who killed her father was the same husband kissing her forehead every night... would she lose her mind?" My hand froze on the cellar door. The rival’s laughter came through the cracks: "You’re cold-blooded, Dominic! Elena thinks you’re her savior. She even wants to give you an heir. She’d never dream the raid that destroyed her life was actually your offering to Sienna."

Three years ago, I fled my old pack and hid among humans at Westridge University. As graduation approached, Damian Blackwood—the man I had secretly loved for three years—suddenly confessed his feelings to me. He told me he was a wolf. He promised that as soon as we graduated, he would take me back to his pack and make me the most honored Luna. I was overjoyed. We spent the entire night together, wild and desperate. The next day, Damian pulled me into his arms in front of everyone and announced that we were together. I sat on his lap, blushing, certain that I was the luckiest woman alive. I was ready to tell them my true identity. But then they suddenly switched to the Old Tongue. "How did the bookworm taste?" Damian answered casually. "She acts innocent on the surface, but in bed? An absolute whore." Laughter erupted around us. "So are you actually going to mark a… human?" Damian frowned. "No. My size—no wolf woman could take me. I was worried that Juliette, being human herself, might think I'm too rough. So I used Aurora for practice." "Don't let Juliette know that Aurora and I slept together. I don't want her to be upset." What Damian didn't know was that I am the Alpha King's only daughter. And I understood every word of the Old Tongue. I said nothing. But when I returned home, I secretly contacted my father, the Alpha King, and agreed to return to the North and inherit the throne.

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

Addy Walker once believed love was supposed to be loud—felt in bedtime stories, laughter in the kitchen, and the warmth of arms that made the world feel safe. That’s how it was before her mother died. Before her father changed. Grief hollowed him out. The man who once teased and protected became a shell—quiet, cold, unreachable. Then came the bottles. The slammed doors. The bruises. Addy, now eighteen, has learned to survive in silence—walking lightly, speaking carefully, hiding her pain beneath long sleeves and polite smiles. She works long hours to keep food on the table while her father sinks deeper into debt and addiction. One night, she comes home to a dark, freezing house—again. The electricity is off. Again. And she knows why. She confronts him, her voice sharper than it’s ever been. He denies it at first, but the truth is already spread across the kitchen counter in final notice bills and losing betting slips. He’d gambled away the electric bill money on a horse. The argument erupts. He screams, she stands her ground. When he slaps her, she doesn’t flinch. Something inside her shifts. She’s done waiting for the man he used to be. Addy packs a bag. She’s leaving—for real this time. No plan. No destination. Just freedom. But as she storms out into the rain, a long, black car pulls up to the curb. A man steps out—tall, broad-shouldered, older. His face is hard, almost frightening in the shadows, but he’s striking. Dangerous. And calm.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

Grandpa will be announcing his will at his birthday banquet. Apparently, I only possess the right to inherit the family's assets if I'm in a stable relationship with someone. I beg my girlfriend, Hannah Samson, countless times to have our relationship publicized. But she keeps using her overtime shift as an excuse. Today, she finally yields to me. "Alright. You should attend the family meeting first. I'll be there soon." The moment I step into the manor on my own, I hear my relatives' mocking laughter surrounding me. "You keep claiming that you're busy with your career every day. To think that you can't even bring your own girlfriend to this meeting! You do realize that your inheritance right depends on your partner, right? "Don't tell me you lied to us about having a girlfriend!" I clutch my phone tightly, feeling my palm going clammy with sweat. Time slowly ticks past. Just as Grandpa is about to read his will out loud, someone pushes the front door open abruptly. I turn around in delight, only for my smile to freeze on my face. Isaac Letterman, the fake heir, smiles wanly at everyone, his hand still laced with Hannah's. "Sorry, we're late." As I stare at the duo, I feel my heart plunging into an icy abyss. Then, I turn back to look at the relatives, who were mocking me earlier. "You said you wanted to see my girlfriend, right? That's her right there."

There's a prophecy – a prophecy holding the fate of two worlds. On the edge of Lilah's field, at the twelfth hour of the fall of twelve, the three kings will unite, a daisy will be lost, or the worlds will be gone. The Oracle tells me that I am bound to the prophecy. That I cannot alter or change it. That I’m destined to be greater than what I am, but I already knew that. I’ve known that since the age of five. Now, can you guess who needs to die? Death doesn’t bother me. I will let the world burn if it means achieving my goals – because with every lick of the whip; he tore my flesh raw, as his laughter rang through the mansion, and my screams disturbed the heavens. No one cared to help, no one listened – definitely not the Gods. So why should I? ._. Eldora. A world woven together by magic. Cloaked in darkness and chaos, sin and deceit. Where no one is innocent; where both hands - and teeth - drip with the blood of others. And there is her. A lone wolf, watching the world tear itself apart. Watching the chaos, the death, the destruction as she fights a far greater war, within her. What's right and wrong? What's considered good and evil? Where does she stand in this enteral mystery, we call a universe? Coated in darkness and pain, she questions the meaning of life and death, and her purpose in this world of infinite possibilities. She finds only one answer: REVENGE. *WARNING this story contains abuse, suicidal thoughts, intense trauma, and erotic scenes. Please do not read if this is heavily triggering for you!*

What will you do if you suddenly find out that you are betrothed with the king of the alpha gang when you are just a mere human? And it was prophesied long ago when you were not even born.... The two rival alpha kings of two different clans are prophesied to be the mate of the mere human, Ruth who will bear a child with one of them. The child - half human, half wolf will be the king of kings of all era. The two alpha kings - Alexander and Thomas - both want to behold and possess the power whom no one ever had. But was that truly a prophecy for which they were ready to sacrifice everything? Or just merely an old saying? And what about Ruth and Adam who are madly in love with one another in the mortal human world? " Leave me alone! " Ruth screamed with rage and fury. " Why have you taken me here? " Her big beautiful eyes shone with fear when she saw the dark silhouette behind her came to light infront of her. " You...." Looking at the dark shadow, she froze at her spot. " Yes,me. And here you are, my would be bride who will bear my child in her womb. " Crazy laughter broke out the whole castle. " No! Let go of me! Adam! " Ruth screamed when she saw the dark shadow coming directly towards her slow by slow. She tried to get up but could not as she was tied up with the pillar. " Adam! " Her voice went meek as she was fainting gradually, looking at the shadow coming close to her little by little....

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!