Glass Novels & Stories

It was no secret that Lucas, the Alpha of the Redline Pack, had spent ten years pursuing me. He did so patiently and devotedly, never wavering, as if loving me were the only purpose he had in this life. But on the eve of our wedding, one conversation between Lucas and his friend struck me. "You have secretly dated Shane for a while now, but you will Mark Charlotte as your Mate instead?" His friend had asked. "How can the two be the same? How could Shane, a substitute, compare to Charlotte? I might consider keeping her if she behaves herself and doesn't make a scene. Don't worry, Charlotte won't mind," I heard Luca say confidently. But Shane has no intention of behaving. On the day for eh Marking, she stormed the Ritual grounds and pushed me hard making me fall of the center stage unto the grass. Lucas was by her side quickly to protect her not me. Shane had lost all reason from the heart break and had a shard of glass to her her neck. "Choose me or Charlotte right now!" She screamed and I saw Lucas descend into a panic. Shane must have gotten injured in the chaos because I could hear Lucas shouting to clear the way and let him pass, saying he needed to rush Charlotte to a hospital. But I was hurt as well, yet he did not care. "If anything happens to her, you will all pay the price," he had declared. Those words shattered my heart and was the beginning of the end. I now know what to do—booking a ticket and left him forever.

On my birthday, my adopted sister, Sophia Norris, frames me for soiling her dress and causing her to not be able to attend the banquet. My older brothers, Gerald and Gary Moore, immediately demand that I give my gown to Sophia. Otherwise, they will cancel the birthday banquet. Furious, I point at them while screaming, "I didn't ruin her dress at all! She was the one who splashed red wine onto it! "Also, I will never give my gown to her! My best friend designed it for me!" As soon as my words fall, Gerald commands the bodyguards to tear the gown from my body. At the same time, Gary picks up a wine glass and dumps red wine onto my face. "It's bad enough that you constantly bully Sophia! Today, her crush, Zachary Green, will be attending the banquet too! Do you have any idea how long she has prepared for this day to come?" Gerald adds, "A vile woman like you doesn't have the right to be born, let alone celebrate your birthday!" After that, a few bodyguards drag me into the basement. Immediately, pitch-black darkness swallows me. I have severe asthma. Breathing becomes insanely difficult for me as seconds tick by. I keep screaming loudly and calling for help, but all I hear is laughter coming from the banquet upstairs. It isn't until the banquet is well underway that Gerald and Gary remember that I exist. But I've already died in the cramped basement.

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."

They told me to get close to him. To make him trust me. To destroy him. The envelope landed like a stone dropped into still water. Inside: a photograph of a man who could buy my soul. A note that said, Seduce him. Destroy him. Or your mother dies. My mother is dying. The cancer is a thief in the night, stealing her breath one shallow gasp at a time. Twelve million dollars stands between her and a cure. I have twelve dollars in my pocket and a hunger that has nothing to do with food. So when Evelyn Cole – the spider in a gray suit offers me a deal, I say yes. Liam Cole is cold, untouchable, devastatingly beautiful. CEO of Crestwood Capital. Heir to a fortune built on bones and buried secrets. He does not smile. He does not explain. When he walks into a room, the air learns to hold its breath. He is my target, my enemy and my ruin. But when he closes his office door, he does not fire me. He slides a photograph across his glass desk – me, taking the job, caught in a camera's unblinking eye. And he whispers, "I have known since before you walked through my door." Now I am trapped between two hunters. Evelyn wants the file that could burn her empire to ash. She has my mother – a hostage wrapped in hospital sheets. Liam wants me to stay, to play the part, to feed Evelyn lies while he hunts the people who murdered his father.

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

The day before the spacecraft launch, I am anonymously reported for concealing a mental illness and lose my qualification to board. After being confined in a psychiatric hospital for three years, my husband, Simon Bergman, who is now a decorated figure in the aerospace field, personally brings me home. "I had no choice but to send you there. I even applied to be demoted just to bring you back. Let's just live our lives well from now on," Simon says. Burdened by guilt for affecting his career, I spend the rest of my life carefully taking care of him and busying myself in the kitchen as a dutiful wife. But before I die, my daughter finds the letter accusing me of having a mental condition—it is written in my husband's own hand. She also discovers decades of correspondence between him and a deceased war buddy's widow named Charmaine Marlowe. In those letters, he writes that to fulfill his buddy's dying wish to take care of Charmaine, he fabricates a false mental illness record and inserts it into my astronaut application. As a result, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and my position was taken by her. The glass shatters, and the sharp fragments pierce me, like they are stabbing into my heart. I was supposed to be the one to go to space. But my husband sacrificed my chance so that another woman could have it! I die in despair. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the astronaut selection for the manned spacecraft launch. This time, when Simon offers to help submit my application, I refuse to let him.

It's hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it.... "Why are you making it so difficult?" I screeched on top of my lungs. God, why does he have to make everything so difficult? "I'm your boss and you're responsible to follow my orders. You have no authority to defy me." He snarled, his hands balled into fists. "Are you even listening to your baseless blabbering?" "Shut the up!" He roared with pure antagonism and fisted his hand on the glass painting that hung by the wall. I gasped at the sight of glasses shattered into tiny pieces, droplets of blood oozing down his knuckles. His jaw was clenched as he shot daggers to my eyes, not because of the pain that was inflicted from the quick punch, but the remembrance of my betrayal. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Mystery. Romance. Deception. It's a famous saying that, hate is a strong emotion- so is love. You can only hate someone you place in high esteem since you care about what they think. Just when Evelyn Williams thought she could bring some light into her miserable life, destiny played its cruel game again, bringing her back to the place where she started. Five years later, she is forced to work with one and only Xavier Blake Knight, the one who remembers how Evelyn Williams has broken his heart. After what she did to him, would she be able to look into his eyes? Unbearable secrets will be revealed with a mixture of irresistible desires. Desires that Evelyn fears would only deepen her wounds, but somehow heal Xavier's.

Alessia Volkov, the ice-princess heiress to a powerful Russian syndicate, believes her life is mapped out: a strategic marriage to secure an alliance. But on the night of her engagement gala, her world is shattered. Dante Moretti, the most feared and ruthless Mafia Don in the city, storms the event. His reason? A blood debt owed by her fiancé's family. And he’s taking Alessia as collateral. Dragged from a life of opulent privilege, Alessia is thrown into a gilded cage: Dante’s impenetrable penthouse high above the city. Her defiance is immediate and fierce. She fights him with every weapon she has, venomous words, calculated escapes, and sheer, unbreakable will. But Dante is a master of breaking things. He doesn't use fists; he uses desire. His relentless, calculated seduction is a war of attrition against her body and mind. A rough hand pinning her wrists against the cold glass wall. A bruising kiss that tastes like victory and sin. A whispered threat that sends a shiver of unwanted arousal straight to her core. As the lines between captor and captive blur, a dangerous, twisted passion ignites. Their encounters are explosive battles of dominance and surrender, each feverish fuck chipping away at her resistance until her hatred transforms into a dark, addictive need. She begins to crave his touch, his possession, his punishing cock. But outside their penthouse fortress, enemies are closing in. The very war that brought them together threatens to tear them apart. Alessia must decide: is she the prize in this bloody conflict, or is she the queen destined to rule beside the king who stole her? This is a story of obsession, betrayal, and a love so violent it can only be born in the dark.

"I need you to smile, darling," Adrian whispers, his fingers digging into Isabella's waist as cameras flash. "Your father's business empire depends on it." The champagne in her glass trembles as Isabella forces herself to play the perfect mafia bride. She hasn't told him about the baby yet. Hasn't mentioned the way his eyes linger on the judge's daughter, Elena. Hasn't revealed that she knows about the poison they've planned for her "tragic accident." But Isabella Romano isn't going down without a fight. "Please," she whispers to Santa Muerte as poison burns through her veins. "Give me a chance to make them pay." Death has a price. Isabella awakens in the body of Valentina Salvatore—wife to Adrian's greatest rival and mother to twin girls who somehow see through her deception. She has 150 days to either claim vengeance or find true love. The clock is ticking, and Nicolas Salvatore, her new "husband," is proving dangerously easy to fall for. "You're not really her, are you?" Nicolas murmurs one night, his fingers tracing her jaw. "My Valentina never looked at me the way you do." But as Isabella navigates the deadly waters of rival crime families, she discovers Valentina had secrets of her own—secrets worth dying for. Now, with her father plotting a takeover, Adrian suspicious of her resurrection, and her borrowed body slowly rejecting her soul, Isabella must choose: the revenge she died for, or the love she never expected to find. In this dangerous game of second chances, some fates are worse than death. And some loves are worth dying for twice.

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.