Knuckles Redesign Novels & Stories

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

Milo never expected survival to look like this. At twenty-one, he’s spent most of his life drifting, bruised by the world and too soft to fight back. His beauty makes people underestimate him; his fragility makes them think they can shape him. Isaak is a walking contradiction: cold-eyed, dark-inked, and terrifyingly controlled. At thirty-one, he has carved his body and his life into hard, elegant precision. Power clings to him as naturally as oxygen, and people follow him even when they don’t understand why. To him, Milo isn’t fragile. He’s fascinating. He’s something worth remaking. Kasym, older by barely a year, is the opposite—a broad, golden-haired monolith of warmth and violence. He smiles easily, loves fiercely, and destroys without remorse. Under his tattoos and bruised knuckles lies a heart that has bled too often, yet still hungers for someone to protect. He sees Milo’s softness and doesn’t want to change it. He wants to guard it with his teeth. But three hearts are not easily aligned. Isaak’s possessiveness clashes with Kasym’s tenderness, and both men fear that the softness they worship will shatter under the weight of their devotion. Milo must learn to navigate two hungers, two ways of loving that demand more than he has ever given. The question isn’t whether he belongs to them—it’s whether they can learn to belong to each other without destroying the boy who binds them. This is a love story built not on simplicity but on collision—where surrender becomes power, devotion becomes war, and three lives entwine in a bond too fierce to break.

On Mother's Day, I take my mom to a hotel under my company for a vacation. We've just sat on a leather couch in the lobby for a short while when the supervisor-in-training, Jacob White, rushes over angrily and yanks us up to our feet. "This couch is meant for the guests who have applied for a VIP membership in this hotel! For broke tourists like you, you're welcome to stay in a cheap motel! Don't leech off the cool air generated by our air conditioners here!" My brows are knotted into a frown instantly. I'm about to declare my identity when Jacob shows me a bill and demands that I pay 1,500 dollars for a meal here. My expression goes dark immediately. "We've just arrived at the hotel, and we barely even have a sip of water here. Why should we pay 1,500 dollars for a meal here?" Jacob rolls his eyes at me before rapping his knuckles on the counter in an arrogant manner. "Those who stay at this hotel must pay this sum! We're serving fancy food here, you know! It's your business to consume it, but regardless, you still have to pay up!" Unable to endure Jacob's antics anymore, I tell him to call the manager over. But he sneers at me before pointing at his name tag. "This hotel belongs to my godsister! I'm the one who calls the shots in the entire lobby! No one can help you this time, regardless of who you lodge a complaint to!" I stiffen up on the spot. I'm the only son in this family, and my relatives never meddle with my hotel businesses. Who the hell is this so-called godsister that has usurped my position as the owner?

“ One scratch, one head. “ His words terrified the whole civilization of the Cabrine city. As his sharp eyes flickered with darkness, everyone held their breaths. The figure in front of them was no other than Diamond Fletcher – the sin of pride from the seven deadly sins. Having the vampires lineage with the alpha's blood, he was one of the ruler in the biggest city of the realm. Nevertheless, he was also a five-star general in the human world. “ The young madam is in your room young master. She was in her deep slumber when the potion took effect. “ One of his allies said, trembling and trying himself not to stutter. Without a word, the sin of pride walked away with his head high. The eagerness to see her after three years of disappearance made him crave for her scent. His desire to own her and her blood filled his sorrow and anger. When he reached his room and locked the door, the coldness in his eyes vanished in the mist. He stepped closer to the and saw her lying unconscious. Her hair was messy as well as her dress. It was slightly ripped that made his eyes pinned to her slender legs under the thin fabric. When he brushed his knuckles over her cheeks, he closed his eyes for five seconds to feel how soft her skin was. It was delicate. It was seductive, yet, it was also delicious. “ Finally, our hide and seek just ended. “ He bended his body as he whispered near her flushed ears. Biting it slightly before her neck, he only wanted to ‘do' her. To punish her! ‘ You’re mine. Every inch of you is mine. Just mine. Mine alone! ‘ **** WARNING: There will be an obsession and possessiveness at the middle.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

"I bet you still feel me," I whispered, tracing a lazy finger down her spine, just to make her shudder. "Still stretched from how deep I was inside you." She sucked in a sharp breath, but I caught the way her thighs pressed together, the way she burned with the memory she was so desperately trying to bury. "Shut up," she bit out, her voice shaking. I chuckled, dark and low, brushing my knuckles against her jaw. "Why? Does it drive you insane knowing you let the villain ruin you first?" Camilla He used to make my life hell. Stefano Madden, the golden boy with ice in his veins and a filthy mouth that cut deeper than knives. I was the fat, invisible girl he loved to humiliate. Now, I’m curvy, successful… and unfortunately, his personal assistant. I swore I’d never fall for him again. But the way he looks at me now? Like he wants to ruin me all over again, only slower, dirtier, deeper. And I would let him. Stefano I broke her once. I should’ve walked away. But Camilla Whitlock grew into every man’s fantasy and I hate that she makes me feel. So I push her. Tease her. Own her. Until the line between cruelty and desire snaps. I take her, claim her, and when I put a baby in her, my obsession turns lethal. But when she’s stolen from me, all bets are off. I’ll burn the world to bring her back… even if she never forgives me.

At a company team-building dinner, my coworkers started a challenge. We had to call our husbands or boyfriends and compare how much money they sent us. The rules were simple. Whoever got the biggest transfer and the fastest answer won. As usual, I came in dead last. "Seraphina, don't take it personally. Mr. Brooks may not be very romantic, but at least he's rich." Everyone laughed and tried to smooth things over, carefully avoiding old wounds. Like how I had spent seven years helping Conrad build his business, yet he had never once brought up marriage. Like how Conrad had distributed company shares to the executive team, and I was the last person to find out. Or how, on the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, the only person sitting beside me in the hospital waiting for the test results was my best friend. I simply smiled and said nothing. Then my gaze landed on the new intern. She gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles had turned white, hesitation written all over her face. "I think I'll pass," she said quietly. "He's on a business trip. He's really busy." The mood in the room began to grow awkward. Trying to help her out, I leaned forward with a smile and tapped the speakerphone button as I dialed for her. I had expected the call to go unanswered. Instead, it was picked up instantly. The private dining room fell completely silent. Because the voice that came through the phone belonged to my quiet, unromantic boyfriend, Conrad, and his tone was impossibly gentle. "Babe, did you get the Valentine's Day surprise I sent you?"

“Wendy, are you absolutely sure you want to sign this document?” The Elder’s voice rang in my ears—cold, distant. “Once your bond with Alpha John is dissolved, you’ll lose everything tied to the Blackthorn Pack.” I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned white. “Yes. I’m sure.” But just as the tip touched the paper— BANG! The door was kicked open with a violent crash. Alpha John stormed in, eyes bloodshot, and wrapped his hand around my throat. “You dare?!” Blood slipped from the corner of my lips… but I laughed. Because I knew—he would never discover the truth. That his dear uncle, Alpha Vincent, was hiding in my closet at this very moment. And the fresh bite mark on my lower belly… still burned from last night. As if fate was mocking me, my sweet little sister Penny sent a message right then: “Sis, wanna know a secret? That miscarriage you had? John planned it. He made it happen.” Then the TV flickered to life with a breaking live broadcast— There she was, Penny, gently stroking her swollen belly as she smiled into the camera. “John and I are expecting our baby next month,” she announced proudly to the entire Pack. And Alpha John—my “husband”—stood beside her, lovingly kissing her forehead. Like I never existed. Like I wasn’t the Luna written in law. “Miranda,” my wolf snarled in my head, “Rip those traitors apart—now!” But I didn’t. I wiped the blood from my mouth, and dialed the number I hadn’t called in five long years. “Vincent,” I said calmly, “Come get me.”

"I love you," he gazed at her eyes which are dropped on the floor while he cups her cheeks with his palm. She doesn't look at his eyes. She seems scared. But with what he doesn't understand. "Do you not like me? Even a little bit?" his voice enunciates but she doesn't response to it. He waits for her answer but she doesn't reply him. He tries to back away from her. But as he is leaving, she holds his hands suddenly. "I don't know. I don't know whether I like you or not. I just don't want you to go away. I just don't want you to leave me," she says with the tears sparkling on her eyes. "Esther!" He presses his forehead against her as his breaths fasten. He can feel that along with his, her breaths are quickened as well. He realizes that the fire is burning on both side and she is equally anxious as she is. A smile creeps on his lips as he feels that. "I love you, Esther. You're made for me and I am made for you. We are made for each other," he smiles and presses his lips against her. "You're day dreaming one more time? What the fuck are you dreaming about Esther? Is it about my old man? Are you dreaming about him?" He pushes her against the wall and punches hard on the wall making his knuckles be red and bleed. "Nooo...Nooo... Caden! You're wrong," she cries.

Sienna was born the Alpha’s daughter, yet she grew up like a shadow in her own pack. After her mother’s death, love became a privilege she was never granted. Her stepmother’s cruelty was quiet but constant, her stepsister adored while Sienna was trained to obey, not to lead. Power flowed in her veins, but she was taught to shrink until she believed she was worth nothing more than her silence. Cassius was her only constant. The future Alpha, the boy who stood in front of her when others sneered, who promised protection with bloodied knuckles and fierce eyes. But packs do not run on childhood promises. As they grew, the elders whispered that Sienna was weak, unworthy, a liability. Lies spread, carefully crafted to rot her reputation from the inside out. When fate revealed them as mates, it should have been a blessing. Instead, it became a weapon. Cassius’s claim to the Alpha seat trembled, and the pack demanded a stronger Luna. Sienna overheard their plans and began pulling her heart apart stitch by stitch, preparing to disappear. At the mate recognition ceremony, Cassius hesitated. And in that pause, everything shattered. He rejected her publicly, accused her of manipulation, and broke her wolf before the entire pack. Sienna did not scream. She simply broke. Then came the secret. A child growing inside her. A life she would protect at any cost. She fled. She survived. She rose. Years later, Sienna returns no longer weak, no longer begging, with a child whose eyes mirror Cassius’s soul. The bond reignites, but she is done being chosen last. This time, Cassius must burn his world down to earn her back.