Haachama Face Reflection Novels & Stories

My boyfriend was crippled when he saved me, while his adoptive sister suffered from heart failure after protecting us from misfortune. She had to depend on the expensive imported medicines to sustain life. To pay for their treatment, I sold myself as a lifecasting model on the black market. Not only were my hands and feet coated in the heated silicon, but I also needed to endure strangers touching me without flinching. I needed to pay if the replica was damaged. I begged through my tears, only to receive a few slaps to my face in return. They scolded, "You signed up for this. Don't act innocent now." Humiliated, exhausted, and aching, I still took the money straight to the hospital to buy medicine for his sister. When I passed by the VIP lounge, I heard a familiar laughter. "Chris, this is the 998th test, isn't it? Are you really marrying her once she passes the 999th test?" With a slight frown, Christopher answered, "Yeah. Although testing her is a family tradition, and they're having you to supervise, don't overdo it. I won't have another bride." I froze. Every sacrifice. Every humiliation. Every bit of pain I had endured—it had all been a test. A game to see whether I was worthy of marrying him. Staring at my bruised reflection in the fire-resistant glass, I let out a sudden chuckle. Then, with trembling hands, I turned on the old phone I hadn't touched in two years. I felt tears roll down my cheeks when I told the other person on the line, "Declan, take me home. I regret everything."

[MATURE CONTENT 21+] I'm not sure if I'm here, at the moment, I don't know if I'm screaming or begging him to stop as the weight of his hands on my back feels more apparent. Maybe I'm just helplessly drowning in my despair with only silent tears running down my face. Nothing matters because even my mind could not wander off and protect me for long enough to silently surrender to a horrific situation. "You lied to me, You lied to me! You said you wouldn't do this if I " The words slip away as I sob and cry out in pain. "Hm..”" Alejandro lets out a breathless chuckle, "I did?"One of his hands leaves my hip, reaching down to wrap around my throat, forcing my back into an arch so I'm faced with the reflection of myself in the mirror. It is so I can watch the deranged, lustful look in his eyes as he roughly thrusts himself in and out of me while choking me against his hand at my throat.This is cruel. This is disgusting. This is shameful. But it makes Alejandro smile in pleasure, in pride, that he's able to break me and bend me into his will. "I believe I said that I was fine if you wanted to wait, " he admits. "However, I never said how long. "The reflection of myself in the mirror is someone unrecognisable; she's broken, and angry. I can see my eyes darken in misery, in hatred. The mirror also provides me with Alejandro's expression, filled with contentment and satisfaction. "I HATE YOU," I spit out with every inch of dignity that I may have left. The statement left no mark on Alejandro, instead, he thrusts into me harder, making me cry out but I didn't care, not anymore.

On New Year, my childhood friend, Maverick Kirk, asks for the passcode of my new home. Initially, I thought he wanted to give me a housewarming gift. But when I open the door, I'm stunned to see more than a dozen people gathering in my home. As Maverick smiles and approaches me, he makes sure to shoot me a look. "What are you doing here, Chloe? You're in luck—we're having a family dinner!" I just look very confused in return. Before I can even ask Maverick any questions, his girlfriend, Bianca Bennett, adopts a passive-aggressive tone instantly. "Is your childhood friend extremely charismatic? I'm curious as to how she managed to coax your home's passcode out of your mouth!" Maverick's expression turns grim instantly. "Chloe didn't coax it out of me! In fact, she got down on her knees and begged for it! She claimed that she didn't have anywhere else to live after she got into a big fight with her family and got kicked out of her home! You know how big of a softie I am, Bianca. I didn't think much about it when I gave her the passcode." Bianca's expression becomes one of disdain afterward. "Regular women aren't as shameless as her, you know. Maybe she's done the same thing to countless men just to obtain what she wants behind our backs." Maverick gives her a thumbs-up immediately. "Wow, you really are smart, babe! Previously, Chloe had stripped naked and begged me to buy her her favorite bag! I told you what happened afterward last time." Bianca covers her mouth and starts giggling. "Oh, so that was her, huh? She really is shameless!" The sight of Maverick's despicable face pisses me off to no end. So, I rush over and slap him right away. "Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you make my home your own while slandering me on the side! Now get lost!"

The day I gave birth, so did Lily Jasper—the underprivileged student I had been sponsoring. But her baby didn’t survive. Afterward, my husband, Carter Scott, insisted on making Lily my son’s godmother. From that moment on, she was everywhere—always butting into my parenting. Whether I was disciplining my son or buying him clothes, Lily never missed a chance to chime in with her opinions. Years later, when my son took his college entrance exams, I helped him choose a major that matched his scores. But Lily pushed hard for him to apply to Merika State or Haven State University instead. In the end, he listened to me and got into a suitable college. Then his acceptance letter came. And everything fell apart. That day, he caused a car accident. My accident. He stepped out of the car, walked over, and kicked me a few times as I lay helpless on the ground. His face was full of disgust as he spat, “You actually thought you were my mom?” His voice was cold. “You’ve made my real mom cry over and over because of you. “You were never family. My real parents and I—we’re family. You? You were just in the way. “But it's over now. Finally...” He smiled cruelly. “We can be together—the real family.” And in that moment, I finally understood. Lily didn’t lose her baby that day. She killed my newborn son and swapped him with hers. Everything went dark. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I gave birth.

My husband, Matthew Lorenzo, dies unexpectedly. Soon after, my in-laws come to me with an outrageous suggestion. "Why not let Matthew’s twin brother take you in and look after you? After all, your child needs a father." My sister-in-law, Felicia Dare, furiously calls me a shameless woman. I turn to look at Matthew's brother, Michael Lorenzo. It's like staring at Matthew's face all over again. The grief hits me hard. Just as I'm about to talk my in-laws out of this ridiculous idea, I overhear a conversation behind the door between them and "Michael". "Michael was the one who died. Why did you lie and let everyone think it was you?" Matthew sighs. "The one I love is Felicia. Faking my death was the only way I could be with her openly. And as for this nonsense about taking Luna in and looking after her—drop it. "As for Luna, I gave her a child and a respectable marriage. I don't owe her anything." I turn around and see my daughter standing there with her eyes red. She asks, "Mommy, does Daddy not want us anymore?" I kneel down, gather her into my arms, and hold back the ache in my chest. "Sweetheart, your uncle just wants to protect the person he loves. We shouldn't disturb him; it's time we start our new life."

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”

Right after I reunite with my rich biological family, Ruth Stark, the adopted daughter, eagerly helps me fit into her social circle. But those rich scions constantly mock me and force me to drink. They also make crude jokes at my expense. I am furious, while Ruth walks over gracefully and says with a face full of concern, "Don't tease my sister. She just came back from the countryside and is clueless about the way things are here. I will drink for her." Everyone praises her for being kind and magnanimous while further cementing my reputation as a country bumpkin. One day, Ruth plans to take me to another gathering with her friends. Just as I am about to snap, the butler of Mason Frost, suddenly arrives at our door. He says it is a generous gift personally sent by Mason's mother. My parents instantly beam with joy and grab Ruth's hand excitedly. They praise, "You have made us proud, Ruth. It seems the Frost family is very satisfied with you. This marriage alliance is practically settled." Ruth lowers her head shyly, casting a taunting glance at me. But when I see the tag on the gift box, I can't help but laugh. Every employee who joins Frost Group receives this exact welcome gift. If Mrs. Frost finds out someone has mistaken this for a wedding gift for marrying her son, she will probably be very annoyed.

BOOK #6 - WRIGHT-PETROV SERIES After her father's death, Kamilla lost her association with her father's employer. The Petrov family. Everything else followed. People she considered friends, including her boyfriend, turned their backs on her. She was outcasted by the same people previously groveling to please her. Overnight, she becomes a nobody. An easy target for the hypocrites of society. Nonetheless, she endures. She is far stronger than anyone realizes. However, someone thought she needed protection. "Why are you doing this, Mr. Samuel Petrov? I do not need the frivolity of your world. And please do not give me that lame excuse about being my father's friend again," she shows her defiance by meeting his calm gaze with her sharp angry one. "Believe me, Kamilla, you will not want to hear my reasons." Samuel bore her with an ominous look, attempting to dismiss her. "What reasons, Mr. Petrov? Does it include watching me sleep in the middle of the night? Or your huge one down there having a hard-on whenever you see me in my flimsy nightgown?" with regained boldness, she sassed while pointing at the bump of his pants. Samuel raised a brow in response to her brazenness. "It's just the tip of the iceberg you are seeing, Kamilla. You do not want to know the rest of it," his voice turned icy cold as he gritted every word. "I'm no angel, Samuel Petrov. I can smell your desire since day one, baby" A suggestive sultry smile carves her lips. "Fuck you, Kamilla. Don't call me baby" she was no longer surprise when he swiftly pulled and pinned her on the couch. "It's dangerous" His ragged hot breath fanned her face, and a rock-hard thing was wedged between them.