Dry Flower Yuuri Lyrics Novels & Stories

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

On the very day I returned home, my would-be mother-in-law slapped a check across my face. “Five million dollars. Walk away from my son. I’ve dealt with gold diggers before, who think a pregnancy can lock a man down. You’re not nearly as smart as you believe.” Before I could say a word, a girl in a white dress shrank behind her, clutching her sleeve with trembling fingers, her eyes brimming with tears. “Mrs. Sterling, please… don’t do this. What if Adrian finds out? And… if he truly cares about her, I’m willing to step aside.” I let out a soft laugh. So that was the story she had written for me. A calculating woman trying to steal her man. I bent down, picked up the check, and tucked it neatly into the deep neckline of Lily Bennett’s dress. “Here. A tip. Your performance wasn’t bad.” Then I pulled out my black card and flicked it onto the table. “Ma’am, I’ll offer you ten million. Keep your son on a leash, and tell him to stop bothering me. I find him revolting.” I paused, then added lightly, “Oh, and one more thing.” I gestured toward the delicate little flower she was guarding so carefully. “The girl you’re protecting? My father brought her home last year. His illegitimate daughter. “If anyone thinks they’re joining my family, they should probably ask the Bennetts for permission first.”

Three months before my wedding, I found my fiancé buried deep inside my maid of honor. ​I gave Leo five years of my life. I ironed his shirts, managed his stress, and sacrificed my own dreams to build our perfect future. My reward? Standing in the doorway of our bedroom, listening to him call me "boring" while he ruined our bed with my best friend. ​Shattered, humiliated, and completely alone, I ran out into the freezing, torrential rain with nothing but the clothes on my back. I thought my life was over. I thought I had hit rock bottom. ​Until a massive black umbrella blocked out the storm, and a heavy, expensive suit jacket was draped over my trembling shoulders. ​Alexander. Leo’s incredibly wealthy, terrifyingly ruthless Godfather. ​He is older. Untouchable. The most feared man in the city and the patriarch who controls Leo’s entire inheritance. He is the ultimate forbidden fruit. ​He didn't look at me with pity as I sat bleeding and broken on the pavement. He looked at me with a dark, consuming hunger that made my breath hitch. Kneeling in the wet street, he wiped a tear from my jaw and whispered a promise that would change my life forever: ​"Tell me who did this to you, and I will ruin his life by morning." ​I only wanted a place to dry off. I only wanted a little bit of revenge. I never meant to let him back me against the marble counters of his penthouse. I never meant to crave his rough hands, his possessive growls, or the intoxicating danger of his bed. ​If Leo’s family finds out, it will destroy Alexander’s empire. ​But once the Godfather claims you... there is no going back.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.

Note: This book has two stand-alone stories with happy endings. If Book 1 isn’t your style, jump to Book 2 at Chapter 69! BOOK 1: Adrian & Emily Blackwood "You look like a beggar; don’t bother me," Adrian Blackwood sneered when Emily St. Claire bumped into him after learning her husband cheated with his pregnant ex-fiancée. Little did Adrian know, he'd one day beg this hot divorcee for love. Emily thought she had it all—until she walked in on her husband moaning another woman’s name on their fifth anniversary. Shattered but not broken, she vows to dismantle the empire he built on lies. Enter Adrian Blackwood—the ruthless billionaire who bends the world to his will. “I’ll let you drain me dry,” Emily tells him, determined to reclaim her life and get revenge. But as passion ignites, revenge takes a back seat to redemption. Will their dark pasts consume them, or can they find love amid the chaos? BOOK 2: Vincent & Claire Everglow “I gave you everything,” Claire whispered, clutching her belly as the TV announced Vincent Everglow’s engagement to the world’s sweetheart, Layla Vanroe. Two weeks ago, Vincent knelt before her with a promise ring. “When I’m ready, I’ll marry you,” he said. But now, Claire is pregnant and alone, discarded like a secret. Vincent’s betrayal cut deep, but Claire swore to move on. So why does her heart betray her when their paths cross again? Why does Layla seem desperate to keep them apart? Love doesn’t follow rules, but when lies and betrayal threaten their fragile bond, Claire and Vincent must decide: will they fight for each other or walk away forever!

I positioned her legs a good width apart and enter my index finger into her going in and out of her, Seeing this Zander and Pablo comes over each taking a breast and sucking hard you can hear her loud moans through the room. "feels good, aby girl?" I asked. she only replied with "UMMM, huh." I then started to lick her pussy and suck on her clit, after having my fill and lick her dry we unattached ourselves from her. Picking her up in a princess carry I went to bed and my two men pulled down the covers and I placed her on the bed. Continuing where Pablo left off at sucking on her breast, Zander took upon himself to start making out with our girl. I undressed as so were they, and got my cock ready to enter her beautiful, extremely wet overflowing pussy, then I slammed into her, I could hear her moaning against Zander's lips, I then pumped her harder and deeper. With one last final slam I released into her playing with her now swollen clit as I did. Zander's P.O.V. After Andre slid out of her I took over, I flipped her on all fours and spread her legs as far apart as they could and then without warning I slammed hard and deep inside of her. She screamed out in pleasure as Pablo took hold of her breasts and began to fondle and pull on the nipples while trailing kisses down her back. Andre took a hand full of her hair, bend her head back an crashed his lips onto hers in a passion, lustful kiss. I continued with slamming into her very wet dripping pussy until I released into her.

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

The day my husband, Eric Johnson, brought his foster sister home from overseas, he gave her our master bedroom. "Yvonne just lost her husband. She's heartbroken, so I want her to feel comfortable," he said. I nodded obediently. "Okay." The next day was my birthday. Yvonne said she was feeling down and wanted her brother, Eric, to go stargazing with her. Eric turned to me and said, "She really needs me right now. I'll celebrate your birthday with you later." Still, I smiled and nodded. "Okay." Ten years of marriage and I was ready to walk away from it all… Because I have lived this life once already. In my previous life, I made the mistake of asking Eric to stay with me on my birthday. I did not let him go stargazing with Yvonne. She ended up falling into the water in her sorrow and was rushed to the hospital. After that, Eric shoved my head into a bathtub and held me there until I drowned. In this second life, when Eric handed me the divorce papers and said, "I’m only marrying Yvonne to help her revoke her foreign citizenship and restore her citizenship here. Once it's done, we'll remarry." I did not hesitate. I signed my name without a second thought. By the time he came looking for me again, I was already sitting on his archenemy's lap, smiling like a flower in full bloom.

I am someone with a strong desire to share every little detail with my lover. The blush of dawn outside the safe house window, a slightly-too-bitter espresso, the new flower shop on the corner. Even if Carlo's shadow just flickered through my mind for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from hitting send. His replies were always brief, but they were instant. I used to think that was just how a cold man like him showed his love. That all changed seven days before the wedding, when I found an AI auto-responder on the burner phone he never let out of his sight. It broke down every sentence I sent, categorizing them and extracting keywords to generate the most perfectly dismissive answers. When I said I missed him, it replied, "Behave." When I said I was scared, it replied, "I'll handle it." When I wanted to argue, it replied, "Be sensible." So, for half a year, the one replying to my messages was never Carlo. Meanwhile, in another chat window, the messages between him and another woman were piled high. From simple good mornings to random midnight thoughts, From secret talks about family business to whether they should take the yacht out on the weekend. I finally understood. Carlo wasn't a cold person. It wasn't that he didn't like to share his life; he just didn't want to share it with me. And I finally decided to make a heartbroken exit from this absurd charade.

My wife, Alisha West, has always been obsessively frugal. After marrying her, my single guilty pleasure became blowing money on luxury watches—almost like revenge for how absurdly tightfisted she was. By the time our daughter, Elyse Day, turned 7, she had inherited every bit of her mother’s penny-pinching nature. The two of them looked completely out of place in our sprawling mansion. And I loved it. I’d slip into my latest custom-tailored suits and watch them wince at my credit card statements, their expressions twisted in quiet pain. Until one day, lines of floating text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This spendthrift idiot is still shopping? Doesn’t he know his wife’s company is about to go bankrupt?] [She’s been drained dry supporting this parasite. Her T-shirt collar is practically worn out from washing. Good thing the financially savvy male lead is about to show up and save her.] [Can’t wait for Alisha to file for divorce and kick this useless freeloader out. Let’s see how he survives fighting stray dogs for scraps under a bridge.] I slammed the limited-edition Richard Mille watch onto the table. Alisha, who was crouched on the floor breaking down delivery boxes for recycling, and Elyse, who was helping stomp them flat, both jumped in shock. A chill ran through me. I lunged forward, snatched the battered cardboard box from Elyse’s hands, and held it tightly against my chest. "No… no more buying. I’m returning this watch. "And these boxes… don’t sell them. I think we might need them someday… to lay out under a bridge when we’re sleeping outside…"