Flower Dream Meaning Novels & Stories

He's her bodyguard and driver. He got that features that made every girl drool. Raina Williams is a twenty three year old lady, who has everything she wants. She's what you'll call a grumpy and rude brat as she's popularly known in the Sunshine city. She was avoided like a plague not until she employed Jasper. Jasper also hated her for the fact that she's to rude. Not until he found our her darkest secret. What really changed her from the Angel she was to the demon she is today. Will Jasper be able to stay despite the harsh treatment from his grumpy boss? What do you think made her change?

My mating ceremony with Alpha Kaelan Blackwood was supposed to happen today. He'd gone to claim the Luna's Crown for me—the final ritual before we would be bound forever. Instead, he walked into an ambush. He survived. Barely. But his wolf didn't survive. Whatever had come back from that attack wore Kaelan's face but doesn't know me. Doesn't recognize his fated mate. Instead, he looks at Seraphina like she's the one who matters. Dr. Theron Vance, our Pack Healer, gave me hope anyway. The pup I was carrying is Pureblood—a miracle, even between two Pureblood wolves. He said it might be enough to wake whatever wasleeping inside Kaelan. I was going to tell him tonight. Then I heard him talking to his Beta, Beckett. "You're really going through with this? Pretending your Wolf is gone just so a dying woman can play mother before she—" "Drop it. Elara's the only one I've ever loved." Kaelan's voice came low, steady. "This thing with Sera is just medical. A procedure. It means nothing. When it's over, Elara and I complete the mating ceremony. End of story." I didn't storm in. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. I just turned around and walked away. I don't want an Alpha's love if I'm never going to be his priority.

Late one night, a thread blew up and hit the front page of a famous forum deep in New York’s underworld. The original poster had dug up an old prompt: “Name three words that sum up your youth.” Then an account that’d been dormant for years popped up in the replies. Its avatar was a backlit silhouette of a girl in a white dress, username: Seraphina. That was Seraphina Rossi. The Rossi family heiress, the undisputed it girl of New York’s underworld. She typed: Vibrant. Passionate. And Rico Valentino. All hell broke loose in the thread. The wild Valentino’s heir and the breathtaking Rossi heiress had once loved each other hard, only for it all to end in bitter regret. Nearly everyone in New York’s underworld had watched that heartbreak play out. Including me. I turned my head, staring at the man sleeping beside me. This was the man next to me: the once reckless kid who’d ruled the streets of Queens with his bare fists, now the Don of the Valention family. Poised. Unshakable. And he didn’t love me. I’d always known Rico still kept in touch with Seraphina. That he’d met her in secret, more than once. That’s why he’d refused to make our marriage public. His excuse was always the same: “Keeping your identity off the grid keeps our enemies from targeting you.” But I knew I was the one standing between Rico and the woman he’d never stopped loving. If all three of us were just going to keep hurting like this? I’d rather walk away. Let them have each other. I’d made up my mind. I was divorcing Rico.

My boss, Patrick Hoffman, has made a bad investment that fails. When the board wants someone to be held accountable for the loss, he makes me the fall guy. Now that I've been fired from the company, I can no longer make my mortgage payments. My wife, Georgia Lowe, ends up falling seriously ill as well. In dire need of money, I ask Patrick for my severance pay. Sitting in his luxury car, he simply tosses me a few hundred dollars, saying, "You expect me to give you severance pay? I lost over a billion dollars because of you, Heath! How dare you ask me for money? "Here. Take these hundred-dollar bills and buy your wife a decent coffin!" My fists clench as I watch him drive off. Later that night, I drop a bombshell in a group chat filled with investors and business owners. "Seeking employment—bringing years of professional experience in cooking the books to the table. My former boss has nothing but praise for my abilities!"

I loved Adriano Ferraro—yeah, that Don—for five freaking years. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was my anchor in a world where loyalty got tested, and weakness got you killed. We had it all mapped out—dreams, plans, a future we actually thought we owned. Until I lost our baby. I reached for him, shaking, desperate for anything. But comfort never came. Instead, it was her. His stepsister, propped up. "Don't buy her act. She's just fishing for attention—again." That snake smiled like she just won a prize for emotional torture, dripping venom while fanning the flames. And Adriano? He bought it. He turned away. In that moment, it hit me—I wasn't just grieving. I was completely alone. The kid I carried, the future I built in my head? Gone. And so was I. I walked out. On him. On the Ferraro Family I was stupid enough to think I could belong to. All I left behind was silence. Empty space where we used to be. Now Adriano's drowning in regret, but it's too damn late. The life we should've had, the love we should've built? Dust. And her? The stepsister who ruined it all? She's paying for every lie.

The day I win the cheerleading championship, the entire arena erupts with cheers for my team. But from the stands, my brother, Nelson Locke, hurls a water bottle straight at me. "You injured Felicia's leg before the performance just so you could win first place? She has leukemia, Victoria! Her dying wish is to become a champion. Yet you tripped her before the competition, all for a trophy! You're selfish. I don't have a sister like you!" My fiance, who also happens to be the sponsor of the competition, steps onto the stage with a cold expression and announces, "You tested positive for illegal substances. You don't deserve this title. You're disqualified." All the fans turn against me. They boycott me entirely—some even go so far as to create a fake memorial portrait of me, print it, and send it to my doorstep. I quietly keep the photo. I'll probably need it soon anyway. It's been three years since I was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Knowing I don't have much time left, I choose to become the type of person they always wanted me to be—the perfect sister who loves without question, the well-mannered woman who knows when to keep quiet, and the kind of person who never, ever lies.

My name is Carmela Romano. My wedding to Enzo Moretti, the mafia boss, comes with a price tag of hundreds of millions. The extravagant affair leaves the world utterly astonished. Enzo declares his love with a sky full of fireworks and fills the venue with a million roses. The ten-carat ring on my finger gleams brilliantly, outshining everything around me. Everyone envies our love story. But one day, everything falls apart. After a brutal attack by a rival gang, I suffer a miscarriage. To my disbelief, Enzo is absent, preoccupied with a parent-teacher meeting for Luca Vitale—the son of his childhood sweetheart. After 66 unanswered calls, Enzo finally texts me. "I'm at Luca's parent-teacher meeting. Stop calling me!" "Luca grew up without a father. I'm only helping him this once. There's no reason to make a scene!" Blood seeps out beneath me, and the agony in my stomach is unbearable. I can only sink deeper into despair. The child I've waited for all these years is gone. The snow falls heavier with every passing moment. I close my eyes, yearning to escape this world with my baby. But miraculously, a patrolling officer discovers me, barely clinging to life. When I wake in the hospital, one thought burns in my mind. "I want a divorce. Enzo, I'm done with you."

My birthday present this year is a written contract titled 'Behavioral Reform Contract'. My fiance, who was the mafia head Matteo Giovanni, and my parents have already signed their names at the bottom. Together, they had me sent to the Behavioral Correction Center. … The windows are always shut, and the sunlight is filtered through the metal window bars. They drug, reprimand, and ostracize me to make me shove my feelings of aggrievement down. Even while I am being humiliated and punished, they teach me to force a smile and maintain a steady breath. It was all done in the name of "treating" me. A year passes, and I go from being a so-called "troublemaker" to their ideal version of me—quiet, elegant, and utterly perfect. Matteo beams at me and says, "You've finally become my perfect wife. We can finally marry." I match his smile, a gesture that they think means obedience from my part. However, it is not true. It is just me bidding my farewell before I leave for good. There's something I don't understand, however. They constantly found me lacking, so now that I am gone from their lives, why are they falling apart?

I cooked an entire dinner spread to celebrate the day I was supposed to marry my girlfriend. Then, I called her to ask when she would be home. However, I heard her jeering about me with her friends the moment the call connected. "Lydia, Owen is way too easy to fool. That fake marriage certificate didn't even have an official seal, and he still bought it, believing he was your husband. We wouldn't have had to pretend to work at the City Hall if you and Trevor hadn't already gotten the real one." Lydia let out a careless, mocking chuckle. "Husband? Please. He's just a desperate fool who follows me around like a lovesick puppy. The only he's good for is being my free live-in maid. Trevor and I grew up together. He's the one who's always mattered most to me." My fingers tightened around the fake certificate as tears blurred my vision. I had loved her with everything I had for five whole years. Yet, my devotion meant nothing to her. I had never even been considered as a candidate as her future husband. I had only been free help. The woman I had wanted to spend my life with had never loved me at all. Fine. I called my childhood friend instead. "Are you free? Let's go get married."

My boss, Paul Cunningham, blew a major investment. When the board came after him, he shoved me out as the fall guy. After I got fired, I couldn't keep up with the mortgage. As if things weren't bad enough, my husband fell sick and needed money fast. I went back to ask for severance. Paul stayed in his luxury car and flicked a couple of hundred bucks at me. "Severance?" he scoffed. "Selene, you cost me billions. And you still have the nerve to ask me for money?" He smirked. "Take it. Use it to pick out a decent urn for your husband." I stood there, watching the car disappear down the street, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. That night, I dropped a bomb in a large investor group chat. [Hi, I'm looking for new job opportunities. I have years of experience cooking the books, and my ex-boss loved my work!]