Invisible Prank の小説・ストーリー

“Sign the papers, Anindira. You were never more than a placeholder for your sister.” For three years, Anindira Prawiro was the invisible wife of Arjuna Dirgantara the cold, ruthless "Iron King" of Jakarta. She cooked his meals, managed his home, and loved him with a devotion that went unnoticed. But on their third anniversary, her world shattered. Arjuna’s first love returned, and with a single stroke of a pen, he discarded Dira like a piece of broken glass. His final words to her were the cruelest: "If you’re pregnant, get rid of it. I don't want a mistake tying me to you." Heartbroken and alone, Dira vanished into a stormy night, leaving behind a signed divorce and a fake death report. Five years later, a ghost returns to Jakarta. She isn't the submissive girl he once knew. She is the world-renowned architect, the "Queen of Design," and she’s more powerful than the family that sold her. But she isn't alone. By her side are two genius twins: Bumi, who has Arjuna’s cold, grey eyes and a brilliant mind for war, and Langit, who carries her warmth and a secret of his own. When Arjuna realizes the "mistake" he ordered to be erased is actually the twin heirs to his empire, the predator becomes the prey. He buys her building, stalks her boardrooms, and begs for a second chance. But Dira has a new set of rules: 1. Five months of living together. 2. Separate rooms. 3. No touching. 4. No "Husband and Wife" duties. Arjuna once told her she was a shadow. Now, he’ll spend every second of the next five months trying to prove he’s worthy of the light she brings. Can a frozen heart melt before the five months are up?

I thought being sold to pay my father's gambling debts was the worst thing that could happen to me. I was wrong. Dragged to an auction house for the supernatural elite, I became a blood servant to Lucian Aion, the coldest, most ruthless billionaire vampire in New York. He owns half the city, answers to no one, and treats humans like disposable toys. For two years, I survived his cruelty, his indifference, and the humiliation of being nothing more than his personal blood bag. I cleaned his penthouse, stayed invisible, and counted the days until my contract ended. But everything shattered the night I discovered I was pregnant. Impossible. Vampires can't have children with humans. Yet here I was, carrying what shouldn't exist. Before I could tell Lucian, I found him with Viviana Drakov in the council chamber, a pureblood vampire heiress and his ex-fiancée. She was pregnant too. And Lucian chose her. He threw me out into the streets like garbage, calling me a liar, a fraud, a desperate human trying to trap him. Fine. I'll survive. I always do. But three months later, when rogue vampires hunt me for the hybrid baby in my womb, Lucian comes crashing back into my life with a revelation that changes everything: I'm not human. I'm the last descendant of the Nightshade bloodline, vampire royalty everyone thought was extinct. My child isn't just a hybrid. It's the prophesied heir that will shift the balance of power in the supernatural world. And Viviana? She's been lying about everything. Now Lucian wants me back. His vampire council wants my baby. Viviana wants me dead. But they all forgot one thing: I'm done being anyone's victim. They wanted a war? They're about to get one.

"Does he know…" his voice dropped, rough and dangerous against my ear, "that you’re on your knees, about to take another man’s cock?" My lips parted, a trembling breath escaping as heat flooded through me. "Please…" I whimpered, even as my body burned with something I couldn’t control. His hand tightened on my waist, pulling me closer. "Please what?" he murmured, his voice deep. "Tell me what you want." I should have stopped. I should have walked away. But I didn’t, because my thighs clenched even more, my pussy dripping. "Your cock…" I moaned, shame and need colliding. "I need it…deep inside my throat." "Open up and take it all in," he growled and I leaned closer before I could stop myself. ~~~~~~~ Alma has been invisible in her marriage...ignored, dismissed, and pushed to the edge of breaking. One night, drowning in loneliness and frustration, she went out to escape herself. She drank more than she should have, letting the alcohol blur her thoughts and loosen her restraint. And then she met him...a stranger with Hazel eyes and a dangerous deep voice that instantly stirred something raw inside her. He made her tremble. Made her pussy burn and ache in ways she never thought she could, begging for every inch of his cock. It was supposed to be just a night—a fleeting mistake, a secret she could bury in the shadows. But what happens when morning brings reality… and the man who left her trembling, burning, and completely undone isn’t a stranger at all? He’s Zevyn Steel — her husband’s boss. One of Crystal City's most powerful men. A man who should have never known how she tastes.

When Elowen learned that she had been switched at birth, that her life as a princess was nothing more than a mistake, she quietly accepted her fate. She accepted being treated as an error. Accepted being hurt so deeply that even crying had to be done in secret. She believed she would fade away like this — silently, unnoticed, forgotten. Until one day — when despair pushed her to the edge — she felt a faint chill, as if someone were standing behind her, protecting her without a word. From that moment on, Elowen knew she was no longer alone. — Adrian survived a horrific car accident. His body lay motionless in a hospital bed, while his soul became bound to a wounded girl he had never known. He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t shield her from harm. Yet when she was starved, warm food appeared in her drawer. When she was bullied, her tormentors met with inexplicable accidents. When she curled up crying in the dead of night, an invisible hand gently rested on her forehead—so tender it hurt. Adrian was there. Quieter than any living person. He witnessed every wound, remembered every tear, every trembling breath she tried to suppress. Affection grew in silence—slowly, carefully—as if one careless step closer would cause the girl to shatter. One was alive, yet denied a life. One was dead, yet still learning how to protect someone. Some forms of protection need no light. Some kinds of love cannot be touched. — Then one day, Elowen spoke seriously to her “Ms. Ghost”: Elowen: “Ms. Ghost, if you’re lonely…” “Maybe you could bond with a male ghost.” “I’d give you my blessing.” Adrian: … Then the “Ms. Ghost” coldly placed a hand on her forehead. Adrian: “Call me Mr. Ghost.”

Valentina whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re two? Like two different men?” Massimo stepped closer with a dark smirk. “Took you long enough, little queen.” Marcello spoke in a low, slow voice. “Every night you screamed for ‘him’… it was us. Switching. Sharing.” Valentina’s eyes widened. “The bruises… the whispers… two different men?” Massimo grabbed her wrist firmly. “One hard, one slow. Both filling you. Both owning you.” Marcello’s fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her head back. “You came harder knowing deep down, didn’t you?” Valentina breathed shakily. “You monsters.” Massimo pressed his chest against her and moved slowly. “Your monsters. Say it.” Marcello brushed his lips against her neck. “Say you want both of us again. Right here. Right now.” Valentina’s thighs clenched. “I want both of you.” Massimo’s dark smirk deepened. “Good girl. Spread for your kings.” Valentina Ferraro was the invisible outcast until her jealous sister drugged her and delivered her straight to the Caruso twins. Massimo and Marcello, ruthless mafia kings, identical in looks and cruelty. They have watched her for months. Obsessed. Waiting. When scandalous photos explode across Italy, her father disowns her. The twins claim her as payment. Now she is their contract wife in a cliffside villa. One rule: every day she spreads for them until she carries their heir. Massimo takes her hard. Marcello takes her slow. They mark her. Fill her. Own her. But the twins knew she was drugged that first night… and they did not stop. Secrets bleed. Revenge burns. A rival strikes. When the real pregnancy test turns positive, the monsters kneel. From captive to queen, Valentina rises. In Naples’ shadows, she is no longer forgotten. She is bred. She is claimed. She is theirs.

A blizzard erupted without warning, and the glacial mountains began to collapse. My instinct screamed at me to shift and run, to let my Inner Wolf take over and flee—but it was too late. The storm swept in, laced with a strange silver dust that hung heavy in the air. It was like an invisible chain, binding me tightly, locking away my wolf. Worse still, my strength was nearly gone. As captain of the Silvermoon Patrol, I had been out on the tundra all night. Hours ago, I had fought off a vicious ambush by Rogues, and my body still bore the wounds—deep, bleeding, and far from healed. I could feel it: my wolf energy had been pushed past its limit. Maxin, my Inner Wolf, was silent now, his strength depleted and unresponsive. My limbs were going numb, my body sinking into the snow as the roar of the wind drowned everything else out. But I wasn’t afraid. Because I knew he would come. My boyfriend—the head of the tribe's Search and Rescue Unit—had never failed a mission. I believed with all my heart that he would find me. And yet… he didn’t come himself. He sent a rookie instead, while he went after Daisy, whom he believed had been caught in an avalanche. But Daisy hadn’t been in danger at all. She merely wanted a dramatic way to confess her love to him. Three days later, Xander finally found me, buried deep beneath the frozen layers. He froze at the sight—my body, encased in ice, unmoving. He couldn’t believe it: the fierce, relentless warrior he knew, dead beneath the snow. He reached out to touch me… but the ice cracked. And before he could react, my body slipped into the depths of the glacier, vanishing into the abyss.

18+ WARNING: This story contains extreme explicit content, including non-consensual to consensual themes, breeding, public humiliation, degradation, taboo elements, rough anal, and graphic sexual acts. Not suitable for readers under 18. Proceed with caution - this is dark, filthy erotica with no redemption arc. I was always the extra daughter, unwanted, unseen, and disposable. While my sister Lia was cherished, I was the one they sold to save everything. On her wedding day, I became the bride instead. Veiled and silent, I was forced into Adrian Laurent’s bed, the cold, ruthless billionaire who had fallen for her picture. That night, he didn’t know it was me. Drunk and burning with lust, he pinned me down, ripped my wedding dress open, and fucked me like a man possessed. He buried himself deep inside me with every brutal thrust, groaning Lia’s name against my throat while I came apart beneath him, shattered by unwanted pleasure. The next morning, disgust replaced his hunger. Humiliated and blamed for a crime I didn’t commit, I became his invisible wife, used, ignored, and broken. He only used me to satisfy his cravings for sex, fucking me whenever he sees me in the house, ruthless forcing his dick in to my mouth and dipping it down my throat filling me up with his cum. After fucking me like a sex slave, I would catch him having soft sex with my sister like he was a puppy before her. Until the secret growing in my belly gave me the strength to run. Years later, I returned. Rich. Powerful. Untouchable. But the moment Adrian sees me again, and lays eyes on the children who carry his blood, his obsession ignites. He will never let me go again. And this time, he won’t be gentle

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.

I've always been frail by nature. Taking two consecutive steps can make me gasp for air. If I cough, there's a chance there's blood accompanying it. When I'm seven years old, a homeless man in Bronzeton tries to snatch a half-eaten piece of bread from me. I lie on the ground as I convulse like a dying fish with foam gathering at my mouth. My eyes have rolled to the back of my head as well, as though my seizure is acting up. Thinking that I've gotten infected with some sort of disease, the homeless man is so frightened that he flees from Novarra overnight. When I'm ten years old, a delinquent tries to demand protection money from me. I react by spitting dark blood at his face. The poor guy screams at the top of his lungs as he runs down the street, only to get mistaken as a murderer by a police officer who happens to pass by the area. Since then, everyone avoids me like plague on the street. They aren't scared of me—they are terrified that they might get into trouble because of me. No one knows who my parents are. I've grown up in a rundown motel, and my adoptive mother is a stripper who used to be famous. Whenever she gets drunk, she often tells me, "Your father is a mafia Don." I've always thought that she's just running her mouth purely out of drunkenness. That is, until a black limo stops in front of me on the year I turn 18 years old. Three men clad in black suits get out of the limo. The leader sinks down on one knee right in front of me, his voice quivering as he speaks. "We finally found you, Ms. Salvatore. Your father is Vittorio Salvatore, the Don of one of the biggest mafia families in Novarra." At first, I think this is just a scamming scheme. That is, until I'm taken to the estate located on Lacreth Isle that's six acres wide and sports iron gates with the Salvatore insignia carved into them. On my first day home, the fake heiress, Serena Salvatore, purposefully releases the fearsome family dog in the estate just to intimidate me. That dog keeps barking at me, frightening me to the point that I spit out blood on the spot before collapsing to the ground. My mother, Rosalina Vitelli, almost loses her mind over my collapse. But my older brother, Marco Salvatore, shouts at me angrily instead. "Why are you playing dead? You made Serena cry because of your antics!" His voice is so loud that I feel as though my eardrums are going to burst anytime soon. Even my heart feels as though an invisible hand is gripping it tightly. My eyes roll to the back of my head instantly as my body crashes on the spot. Mamma flies into a rampage and almost beats Marco to death for scaring me. Having witnessed everything, Serena kicks up a fuss by attempting to commit suicide at the estate's clock tower just so she can apologize to me. In order to prove his love to Serena, my fiance, Luca Moretti, drags me forcibly to the top of the clock tower so that Serena can do whatever she wants to me. The thing is, the winds are strong on the top of the clock tower. That's when I accidentally slip and topple over the railing. My parents, who are looking everywhere for me, happen to be around the clock tower when I crash onto the spot near them. This time, my bruised and broken body is completely drenched in blood. Shell-shocked, they remain rooted to the spot as they stare at me in bewilderment. Then, they let out blood-curdling screams.