Drowned Ophelia Novels & Stories

I was head over heels for Jonas Hayes, the cold and aloof scholarship student who saw me as nothing more than a walking wallet. He took my credit card but refused to let me get close. "Get lost. The sight of you and your filthy money makes me sick." Using my wealth, he showered Clara Dove, the stunning campus bella from a humble background, with luxury gifts and even threw her a lavish birthday party at the city’s most exclusive hotel. Everyone envied him, believing he was a self-made billionaire. But I didn’t care. I stayed hopelessly in love. After graduation, I poured my entire inheritance into building a life with him, convinced I could win his heart. During our honeymoon, he watched as I drowned, his voice ice-cold as he said, "Every time I think of how you used your money to control me, I wish you’d die sooner." When I woke up again, I was back in my college classroom—the day Jonas asked me to top up his card. This time, I wasn’t the desperate fool he remembered. I slapped him across the face with the card and sneered, "Even beggars know how to kneel and ask. What are you, a weed?"

On the day my twin sister, Alexia Cavanaugh, and I turn 22, I collapse and find out that I have late-stage cancer. Ignoring the doctor's advice to be admitted, I walk out of the hospital. All I want is to spend one final birthday with my family without a single worry. But when I arrive at the party, a server stops me at the door and tells me the venue has been reserved exclusively for Alexia. Outsiders aren't allowed in. Through the glass, I watch as my brother holds a cake and my father places a birthday hat on Alexia's head. Even my boyfriend is there, smiling as Alexia makes a wish. I stand there for half an hour, gripping my phone, before my boyfriend finally answers my call. "I was just at the hospital. I—" He cuts me off. "Ophelia, you've always been healthy. It's Lexi's birthday today. We should talk later." Isn't today my birthday too? My mother died giving birth to me. The doctor later explained that I deprived Alexia of nutrients before birth, which left her frail from the start. And just like that, everyone decided I should always step aside for my twin, who was born five minutes before me. I ball up the report with my cancer diagnosis and toss it in the trash. I'm done letting their favoritism hurt me. I've never received their love anyway, so I choose to leave for good.

I went into labor at the same time as the woman next door. My husband took me to the hospital, but I delivered a stillborn child. Instead of comforting me, he lashed out, "Did you mess around while you were pregnant? Is that why you gave birth to such a monster?" I lost my baby, my name was dragged through the mud, and I was forced to divorce him and leave with nothing. One day, I happened to overhear my husband speaking to the neighbor: "Good thing we swapped your stillborn baby with May's healthy one. If your in‑laws had looked closely, they would have realized the dead baby was actually ours." That was when I finally understood the truth. They had been involved long before. He pushed me on purpose, causing premature labor, just so they could take my healthy baby and give me her dead one. When I confronted them, they held me down in the bathtub and drowned me. Yet when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I went into early labor. This time, I'll make sure she gives birth to that stillborn child. This time, I will expose them both for their affair and for what they did to me.

After my rebirth, I avoided my family and my boyfriend like the plague. When they tried to throw me a birthday party, I faked an urgent business trip to dodge it. When my parents pleaded with me to move back, I secretly bought my own house that very night. When my boyfriend popped the question, I spun on my heel and married someone else. In my previous life, my sister and I were swept away in a raging flood. By sheer luck, a jagged tree branch snagged my clothes, saving me from the depths, but my sister drowned in the merciless current. My parents, consumed by grief and rage, gripped my throat and screamed, "If it weren't for you, Andrea would still be alive!" My boyfriend acted like it was no big deal, offering half-hearted comfort before we tied the knot. But on our wedding anniversary, during a family cruise, they cornered me on the deck and shoved me overboard. "Time to taste drowning yourself!" they hissed. It turned out they had never gotten over Andrea's death. My boyfriend had never forgotten about her. When my eyes fluttered open again, I found myself back on that fateful day. This time, I vowed to live for myself, reclaiming the joy they'd stolen from me.

"Sign the papers, Damien. Set us both free." For six years, Elara Blackwood endured a gilded cage—playing the perfect wife to a billionaire who married her out of duty, his heart forever claimed by another. Their daughter Lily was the only light in her lonely world. But that light was snuffed out by the cruelest betrayal. When their dying daughter needed him most, Damien was embracing his past love. Lily cried, "Mommy, does Daddy not love me?" Elara couldn’t bear to tell her: it wasn’t that Daddy didn’t love her—he just didn’t love Mommy, and by extension, couldn’t bring himself to care for her. After Lily’s death, Elara confronted him: "You chose her over our dying daughter—how could you?" Her decision to leave followed, but Damien dismissed her departure and accusations as a dramatic—even laughable—ploy for attention, refusing to believe their daughter could truly be gone. Yet when the truth dawns, everything shifts: Lily’s death, Elara’s broken smile, and her departure with their newborn. Drowned in regret, Damien finally confronts the love he’d long denied. The billionaire tycoon scoured the city, proclaiming her his one true love—all for a second chance.

After catching Gideon Hawthorne cheating on me for the 99th time, he decides to sleep with the fake heiress, Helena Fairchild, just to get back at me. When I catch him and Helena together in bed together red-handed, instead of feeling guilty for what he's done, he just grins at me maliciously. "Ophelia, your sister feels a lot tighter than you." In my previous life, when I heard Gideon's comment, I broke down on the spot and started kicking up a huge ruckus over the matter. I even spread intimate, racy photos of Gideon and Helena all over the world on the Internet. Unable to endure my lunatic tendencies anymore, Gideon chose to divorce me. As for my parents, they completely gave up on me and cast me out of the family. I thought things would be better for me, and yet reality taught me otherwise. I practically had to raise myself in the countryside for the past 18 years. Even if I got reunited with my biological family, I still had no survival skills to fall back on. On top of that, the Hawthornes kept exacting revenge on me, causing me to starve all the time. A few years later, I died from cancer. As for Helena, she ended up marrying Gideon and became a rich aristocrat in the upper crust. To think that I, the ex-wife, was reduced to everyone's laughingstock at the end of the day… When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Gideon and Helena have slept together.

Four years ago, I committed the ultimate sin. I almost killed my adoptive mother, and for that, I was sentenced to a living hell. My father caged my wolf, stripped my dignity, and bartered me off like livestock to a ruthless CEO to seal a blood alliance. I didn't fight. I didn't scream. I quietly accepted the chains and walked away from the fated mate bond I shared with my step-brother. Damon Enzo Vitale was my first heartbreak—the man I once loved, and the man who truly hated me. Now, I’m back in Vesper City, but the girl Damon once knew is gone. In her place stands a woman shattered by a monster’s touch, clutching a dying daughter to her chest. I have nowhere left to run except into the arms of the man I once sacrificed everything to leave. -- Ophelia Vitale is a harbinger of ruin and a shameless seductress. Four years ago, she brought our family to the brink of collapse and walked away from the fated mate bond we shared without a backward glance. I, Damon Enzo Vitale, have spent every night since fueling my hatred for her, trying to burn away the memories she left branded on my soul. But the woman who collapsed on that highway isn’t the girl I remember. She’s covered in scars I can’t explain and carrying a child with my family's eyes. As I look into the trauma she’s desperate to hide, the foundations of my world begin to crack. Was my hatred truly valid? Or had I been blinded by a web of lies designed to destroy us both?

"Onyx, remove your hand. If you continue to touch, you will lose." He chuckled as she exhaled "The condition was to not give in and fuck, Ophelia. I'm merely touching!" As his fingers returned to their former position, she forced herself to relax. She cursed herself in her head for setting the bar at fuck. When his fingers worked circles around her clit, she nearly died on the spot. As the moist fabric glided over her sensitive area, her release became more urgent, and she regulated her breathing as he quickened his speed. His gaze never left hers, as he watched the ecstasy wash over her face, she was growing desperate for release at this point and could just beg. "You simply have to ask, Ophelia, and I'll give you the release you want!" As her name flowed off his tongue, she shivered. "No!" Her voice was clipped, strained even. "Are you certain? Imagine how splendid it would feel when you cum all over my finger here under this table and when I fill your pussy after dinner. Raw and hard, just how you like it." Onyx Reighs is perhaps one of the finest Chief executives in town. He was respected by his subordinates and desired by females since he possessed every excellent precision a man should have as a leader. But by the end of the night, he was the most notorious player. To him, the purpose of life was to work hard and enjoy life to the fullest. No woman could ever resist his enchantments, and he hadn't expected to know the word "rejected" until she came to fly his bird. What will happened when the lady who rejected him turned out to be his soulmate?

Divorced and remarried—I've lost count of how many times Aaron and I stepped in and out of marriage. He once treated me like something precious, but less than a year after our wedding, he asked for our first divorce. The reason was simple, Vivian was coming back. "Vivian's a public figure," he told me. "I don't want anyone thinking she's involved with a married man." That third-tier actress had nothing but her father's sacrifice to her name. He had taken a bullet for Aaron—a life for a life. And because of that, Aaron believed he owed her everything. Every time Vivian returned to the country, Aaron divorced me. And every time she left, we remarried. The first time we split, I drowned my tears in whiskey and stumbled back to his house half-drunk. The lights inside were warm. He was with her. And I stood outside, shivering through the night. The second time, I tracked his every move—restaurants, auctions, charity galas—just to "accidentally" run into him again. Later, I learned better. The moment he mentioned divorce, I would quietly pack my suitcase and disappear from his mansion. My love and humiliation kept me trapped in that endless cycle of breaking up and coming back together. But this time, when Aaron waited for me at City Hall to remarry, I never showed up.

I came home from a night shift and caught my husband in bed with his secretary. After the screaming and the chaos, I ran out like a woman losing her mind. Derek chased after me. We ended up at the river, fighting. Somehow we both fell in. He nearly drowned trying to save me—the doctors said the oxygen deprivation had caused severe brain damage. When he woke up, he could barely function. No memory. No independence. He followed me around like a lost child. "Wifey, don't leave me. I'm scared." Looking at that helpless, broken man, I gritted my teeth and held this family together. The secretary vanished without a trace. Six years passed. Derek slowly seemed to recover. He was gentle with me, attentive, loving. I even got pregnant with our second child. Then came the family dinner. Derek knocked back two glasses of whiskey and suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his face twisted with frustration. "My oldest boy is already in first grade, and I haven't made it to a single parent-teacher conference!" I thought his brain was glitching again. MY sister-in-law Vanessa rushed to cover his mouth, but he shoved her away and let out a cold laugh. "You really thought the water scrambled my brains?" "Chloe gave me a son. I haven't forgotten about him for a single day!"