E Ink Android Phone Novels & Stories

What hurts the most ? Shattered dreams, broken reality Or clipped wings? For Aarunya, she had already faced it all. With a pillaged soul and an abusive marriage where all her dreams were shattered in the game of his revenge, she was burnt into ashes inside the flames of his vengeance. But one crash is all it took for her hell to turn into the heaven which she never desired. An accident, a memory loss and the monster of her nightmares instantaneously turned into a beast passionately in love with her. Can Aarunya break the chain of her Cruel destiny or will she always be shackled inside the prison of Trayaksh Rajput, the Lucifer of her hell and the man written in her cursed fate? Can Aarunya transform into a phoenix from the same ashes of her destroyed self? Let's dive inside into the world of Rajputs to know. A story written with the ink of rue, redemption, pain, hurt, agony and most of all.... tragedy.

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

Ivy Sinclair never expected her father's last desperate move to be selling her off like a pawn—to the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. Lucien Blackwood doesn't believe in love. But he believes in power, and marrying Ivy gives him just that—until the fire in her eyes threatens to melt the ice around his heart. Their vows are signed in ink and built on lies. She’s determined to protect her soul. He’s hiding demons that could destroy them both. But what starts as a calculated business arrangement spirals into a dangerous obsession. Secrets bleed. Betrayals burn. And when the past comes back with blood on its hands, their fragile union may be the only thing standing between survival and ruin. He owns her name. She could own his heart. But only if they don’t destroy each other first. In this house of fortune, love is the most dangerous currency.

Jessica came to her senses under the bed of her fiancé and good friend’s, regaining her IQ, and couldn’t go back ever since. The douchebag: “Jessica, prepare a birthday gift to celebrate my dad’s birthday.” “Sorry, now I am the chairman, it is him who should pay tribute!” Jessica’s scum girlfriend: “Jessica, can you let me host the marriage show?” “You said that you haven’t experienced the pure love, so don't even think about it!” Jessica tore off the fake masks of the scumbags’ and turned to a pair of ink eye pupils: “It does feel cool to slap others, but don’t forget what your identity is!” “What identity?" Christian Maddox held her waist lightly, his face without missing a beat: “You should ask the little prince in your belly...”

The plane touched down in Tripoli at dusk. Behind me, the sky was on fire. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to my husband, Don Vito Hart. [I'm here. I came to bring you home.] No reply. I called his underboss, Enzo Stark. His voice was hesitant. "You… you really went to Libya?" An explosion rattled the terminal windows. My heart slammed against my ribs. "Which district is he in?" A long pause. Then, quieter: "He never left the country." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "The business trip… it was a lie." The line went dead. A photo appeared on my screen. Time-stamped today. Vito was smiling. Bright, but something behind his eyes looked tired. His arm was wrapped around a woman. They were blowing out candles on a birthday cake. I recognized her instantly. Rosa Quinn. The woman he'd knelt and sworn on his mother's grave never to see again. Three years ago. I still had the scar on my own palm where I'd made him swear. Vito had forgotten. Today was my birthday too. My phone buzzed again. "Sera, the truth is—the Don never ended things with Rosa. We all knew. But you two seemed so happy… no one dared tell you." I read the message twice. Then I slipped the phone into my pocket. There was no need to pretend anymore.

My husband is the perfect doctor… or so everyone thinks. However, he delays the critical treatment of an accident patient so he can accompany his first love's son. Later, he even secretly switches out a patient's medication and watches as she dies from the pain. That way, he can take her heart and perform a heart transplant for his first love's son. What he doesn't know is that the patient whose heart he's taken is his daughter's. She's disfigured in an accident after her treatment is delayed. He calls her family's phone number, hoping they'll agree to donate her body to contribute to the medical field. That's when he hears my phone ring.

No one knew that three days ago, the aloof CEO in the boardroom, Sophia Monroe, had been tangled up with me in her executive office, going at it for eight intense rounds. I thought Sophia had finally agreed to what I had been asking for. But then she pulled her dress back on, turned around, and disappeared without a trace. She was gone for an entire month. I stayed by Mom's grave for what felt like forever. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with the latest trending news. It was about Sophia's wedding of the century, but I was not the groom. At that moment, I was grateful Mom had not lived long enough to see Sophia's true colors. Before shutting off my phone, I sent her a message. [Monday. Courthouse. Divorce.]

I've been in a relationship with Wendy Hudson for ten years. Somehow, I'm not surprised at all when I find out that she's been cheating on me. But what surprises me is the fact that she's been cheating on me with her uncle, Timothy Zuckerman. On our wedding anniversary, Wendy finally fulfills her promise to go on another honeymoon trip with me to make it up to me for the lost one. But as soon as we arrive at the airport, her phone gets crammed with text messages instantly. All it takes is one glance at the phone for her brows to be tangled into a frown, which is weird, considering that she's the type who keeps her composure at all times. "Darling, my best friend has been hospitalized because of an acute disease. I need to visit her right now." The way Wendy speaks is very rapid. The genuine anxiety on her face makes it difficult for me to say no. As I watch her silhouette disappear from the VIP passageway, I rip up the ticket in my hands. Then, I tap on my phone to see the photo my assistant has just sent me. Heh… The truth is, Wendy's best friend is currently on a honeymoon trip with her boyfriend in another country. How is it possible for said friend to get hospitalized due to an acute disease? I'd like to see who on earth Wendy is actually visiting at the hospital!

On the seventh year after the breakup, I receive a package from Clarence Fraser. All 44 pounds of said package consist of the stacks of chat history I have with him in the past. Soon, Clarence's text appears on my phone screen. "Wanna meet up? I'd like to tell you something." I pause momentarily before responding with a "1". That number signifies rejection. Then, I turn my phone off. After wiping my sweat off with a towel, I pick up another crate of fruits and continue promoting them to the customers loudly, as though nothing has happened. It's been so many years, and I don't know why Clarence decides to text me all of a sudden. Similarly, he doesn't know that I've already become someone else's wife a long time ago.

My best friend, Maya, flew in from Miami for my bachelorette week. My last days of freedom. She insisted on a girls' night in to celebrate, ordering all my favorite takeout. She asked me to hold her mobile phone and wait.Then her phone lit up. A message from some guy. A shirtless pic. Text: I need you tonight. Another photo buzzed through. Sex toys. Bondage gear straight out of a movie. My face burned. My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d just stumbled into her secret life. But the next image made my blood run cold. A close-up of the man's chest. A jagged scar I knew better than my own reflection. It belonged to my fiancé, Luciano Carbone.