Dragonball I Novels & Stories

On the day of the divorce hearing, the judge went through the usual questions. “You’ve only been married for three years. Are you certain your marriage has broken down beyond repair?” I forced a bitter smile. I took off my wedding ring and placed it on the table. “We were married for three years, yet we were never together for all three years. “Your Honor, is there anything left between us?” We dated for five years before marriage. My name was pinned at the top of his WhatsApp. I was his emergency contact. I was even the beneficiary of his insurance policy. I thought I had married the right man. But on our wedding day, he received a phone call, and his face instantly turned pale. I asked him what happened. He only said his mother was sick. He left everything behind and immediately booked a flight back to his hometown. For the next three years, he sent me photos of his three meals every day, but his mother never appeared in any of those photos. I felt sorry for him. I even offered to quit my job and go back with him to take care of her. He had refused and said softly, “I can’t bear to let you do that.” A month ago, I saw a cancer influencer’s account online. Orion Young appeared in one of her vlogs. The caption was heartwarming. [He’s there when I wake up. He’s there for every meal. His hands are always there for me to hold.] What did that make me? For 1,095 days, I had only myself. He had been lying to me. The judge struck the gavel for the final time and asked, “Have you made your decision?” I nodded firmly. The court officially ended the marriage. I looked at the divorce judgment in my hands, and my tears finally fell. I thought, “Orion, I’m setting you free. I’m setting both of us free.”

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

RACHEL:I was supposed to be a bride. Instead, I became a tragedy in a white dress. When your mother dies the same night your groom disappears, you stop believing in happy endings. Then came him. A man with no warmth, no promises and eyes that watched me like I was a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. He saved me once. Now I live under his roof, cooking meals for a stranger whose silence speaks louder than comfort. Then there is Chris, the charming CEO who drowns me in the kind of affection I always dreamt of. And there is Liam, my ex fiance who came crawling back, begging for another chance. But the heart is a stupid thing. Even when it’s broken, it still learns to give second chances. Even for the wrong man. DAMIAN: She was a disaster I didn’t ask for. One I couldn’t ignore. I don’t do emotions, and I sure as hell don’t do strays. But I let her in, just for a while. Rachel Hart is not my responsibility. But she keeps showing up in places I can’t ignore, my company, my home, my thoughts. Now her presence lingers. Her scent. Her voice. Her past. She doesn’t belong in my world. But I find myself rearranging it anyway. And when someone else tries to claim her, They’ll learn the hard way I don’t let go of what’s mine.

Five years ago, I died—my life as Irene Lancaster ended, along with the child in my womb. Pushed off a cliff by the woman who bore the man I once loved. But the true betrayal? He made her do it. To them, I was nothing. A mistake. An obstacle to be removed. But I survived. And now, I’ve returned with a new name, a new face, and the wealth and power of the richest man in the country. I came back for one reason—revenge. Cold. Ruthless. Nothing else mattered. Not even him. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. And the heart I thought had turned to stone... still remembers what it was like to love the one who destroyed it.

On the morning of my wedding, I found a saved voice message on Elliot Mercer's phone. It was only four seconds long, barely long enough to matter, yet the girl's voice filled the bridal suite as if she had stepped into the room herself. "I miss you, Elliot. I know I shouldn't." The makeup artist had just finished pinning the last pearl into my hair. My dress was zipped, my veil was hanging over the back of a chair, and downstairs, two hundred guests were waiting for me to marry the man I had loved for seven years. Elliot stood behind me in the mirror, already dressed in his black tuxedo. "She was drunk," he said. "It happened after the firm retreat. Someone dared her to send it." I checked their messages with shaking hands. Case notes. Coffee orders. Court schedules. Her apologies whenever she needed him again. His replies, patient and calm, as if being needed by her had become part of his day. There was nothing explicit. That almost made it worse. I couldn't point to one sentence and call it betrayal. I could only feel the space she had taken from me, quietly and steadily, while I was busy trusting him. My tears fell onto the lace of my dress. "Block her," I said. "Block Tessa now, and I'll still walk down that aisle." Elliot looked at me for a long moment. Then he took the phone from my hand. "After the ceremony, I'll have her moved off my cases," he said. "You have my word." Seven years together, and I still wanted his word to mean something. Then his phone rang. He looked down, and I saw Tessa's name before he turned the screen away. A second later, her text appeared. I'm outside. I can't breathe. Please don't make me do this alone. Elliot's face changed. I caught his wrist before he could reach the door. "If you leave this room," I said, my voice trembling, "don't come back expecting me to marry you." For one second, he looked like the choice hurt him. Then he peeled my fingers from his sleeve, one by one, and walked out of the bridal suite.

Trigger/ Content warning This book contains high sexual content for adults (18+) only. Proceed if you need your toes curled up in pleasure. **** “You know, I wanted you to watch me fuck my hoes… but there’s been a change of plan, Jax. I’ll watch.” “Watch what?” “You.” **** Jaxen DeLuca has just come face-to-face with the devil incarnate—a man deadlier than poison, feared like a curse and obeyed like a god. Everyone bends. Everyone worships the ground he walks on. Everyone… except Jax. But this is what she learns… Monsters like Charles don’t fall in love. They claim, They ruin, and they destroy anything that dares not kneel.

Born as the younger twin, his destiny in life is to live in his brother's shadow. His beast is strong, the bringer of chaos, and he follows nobody's lead. Ryder leaves home and disappears for almost two years after realizing that his first love had a dark ulterior motive. He starts working as a hunter, killing the supernatural. A near death incident that leads to personal tragedy brings him home where he becomes the Sire of his own lair and sets him on his path for revenge and ultimately finding his own Drakaina. I went back upstairs just as Megan came out of the bathroom sporting a pair of my sweatpants and t-shirt that was way too big for her. “I was going to recommend the sweat pants, it might be big around your waist but your ass will fill it out,” I said as she turned to glare at me. “Meaning what exactly?” she asked me. “It’s just that your ass… never mind,” I said. “Are you saying I have a fat ass?” she asked me. “No!” I said quickly. “Then what?” she asked me as she stood with her hands on her hips. “Just forget I said anything,” I said to her trying to hide my embarrassment. “No! Tell me,” she said adamantly. “Fine! Your ass is perfect for… no I can't, I'm going to sound like a pervert,” I said as the pillow flew across my face. “Ryder!” she yelled her face a bright red. “You asked,” I said and ducked at the shoe heading for my face. “You're such an idiot,” she said as she looked at me, “stop looking at my ass.” “Are you wearing my underwear?” I asked her as I saw the edge of my boxers above the sweat pants.

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

My boyfriend found my menstruation disgusting and forced me to undergo subdermal implantation. From then on, I no longer had periods and couldn’t conceive. One day, I had a fever reaching 40°C and couldn’t contact him. I went to the hospital alone, only to stumble upon him attending a prenatal checkup with his secretary. He told her: “Baby, don’t worry about Claire. She only listens to me here, doesn’t she?” “We can postpone the wedding for another five years. She’s loyal to me like a dog anyway.” “In the meantime, keep fulfilling your end of the arrangement I’ve promised you.” “Of course, I’ll continue loving you... until I’m tired of you.” My heart shattered. I’d proposed to him 43 times in seven years, only to fail every single time. It turned out he just hadn’t gotten bored of me yet? This time, I decided not to wait any longer. I turned my back on him and agreed to the marriage my mother arranged in the countryside. On the day my ex was supposed to accompany me to try on wedding dresses, he found an empty room and a wedding invitation I left for him to celebrate my marriage to someone else. Panic consumed him as his world fell apart...

Every April Fools' Day, my boyfriend joined his childhood friend in the same cruel prank, pretending to propose to me. Last year, I slipped the ring onto my finger, my heart full of hope. Suddenly, the mechanism snapped tight. Pain shot through my hand, and I cried out. He apologized afterward and promised that, this year, the proposal would be real. As such, I arrived carefully dressed, believing him. Instead, I was met with a face full of cake. He reached out gently, wiping the cream from my face as if it were nothing more than a harmless joke. However, this time, I took a step back. After six disappointments, I chose to walk away. So why was it that, in the end, he was the one consumed by regret?