Love In Bloom Novels & Stories

What was that saying – where there is family there is love? Well, right now, Dominic was not feeling a lot of love towards his family. He was seated on the couch, fuming inwardly. Across him was his father and mother and at the other side of the room was his step-sister, Noelle. He and Noelle had arrived about ten minutes ago to find his parents waiting outside his home for him. The atmosphere was tense and uncomfortable, and Noelle shuffled around on her feet, itching for someone to break the silence, while Dominic glared at his parents, especially his father.

Ana ordered. "Do you think I could give her some flowers or something as a thank you at least?" I asked. "I will sort that while you shower," she smiled. I felt like there was how once again. True to her word, Ana had a beautiful bouquet of white lilies, yellow lilies and a few red roses. The arrangement was beautiful and I hoped that Mia would like them. As if she could read my mind, Ana smiled at me. "She will love them. Lilies are her favourite."

Now that she was done with him, she didn't want a single thread tying them together—not even in business. After hanging up, Suri headed home. The roses were already at the villa. Julie was in the middle of them, glowing. "Bruce! I love them! Did you send these? I've never gotten this many before!" Bruce stared at the flowers, something about them tugging at him. He asked a servant, who said they were from Suri—a so-called apology gift for Julie. His face tightened. Chest, too. Then he spotted Suri standing outside the yard. Alone. Thin. Empty-eyed.

"The old stories said it only blooms when two fates cross—when something doomed still tries to live." Xavier gave a faint smile. "Sounds familiar." Blythe looked up at him, expression unreadable. "I never actually saw one before. I used to think it was just a metaphor. Something the old poets invented to make love feel tragic." "It's real," he said. "Like us." Her brow furrowed. "The scrolls said it's also called Lupinaria's Mercy. The goddess of wild ruin." Xavier tilted his head. "Why mercy?" "Because," she whispered, brushing the petals gently with the back of her knuckles, "the bloom only lives one day. Then it dies. Just enough time for someone to witness its beauty. But never to keep i

What was happening? I lifted my tear-filled eyes and looked at Damien with disbelief. I was in love with Damien? At that moment, Damien looked at me, then at the flowers on the ground, and back at me. "Felix, do you like eating flowers?" After asking that, he probably did not believe it himself. He looked at me with probing eyes, waiting for my answer. I pressed my lips together and hesitated before reluctantly explaining, "It's Bloom Syndrome." I planned to get up and leave after saying that, but Damien moved to block me. I frowned at him, my displeasure evident.

When I was seven, I stole a phone and called my mother's family. That was how I finally got her out of the compound where my father had kept her prisoner. When my grandfather stormed into the cellar, Mom was chained by the neck, with bloodstained whips scattered at her feet. He beat my father nearly to death. The man spent the rest of his life paralyzed and bedridden. Before Mom got into the car, she reached for me through her tears. "Evan, come with me." I grabbed the hem of her coat—and then I remembered my previous life. Back then, she had taken me with her. Her family had never accepted her for bringing home the son of the man who destroyed her life. She endured years of contempt for

I had a severe pollen allergy. Even the slightest exposure could leave me struggling to breathe. By some coincidence, my girlfriend happened to be a renowned luxury floral designer. On the fourteenth of every month, she would come home with a bundle of greenery. No flowers, just leaves and bare stems. I kept them in glass propagation vases for three years, convinced she had chosen them especially for me so I could still enjoy something beautiful without putting my health at risk. Then, her floral studio was hired for the wedding of the century. I stood well outside the venue and watched as tens of thousands of exquisite roses filled the entire hall. The groom was her childhood friend,

“Get lost! Don’t touch her! She’s afraid of pain!” He fell on his knees on top of the blood. Then, with trembling hands, he tried to piece my broken body back together. Blood instantly soaked his suit red. But he hugged my mangled body tightly and pressed his face against my bloody hospital gown as he howled, “Elena, get up! I won’t force you to do things you don’t want anymore! I won’t marry Jody! Get up! Save her, doctor! Take my blood and heart! Save her!”

His lips parted, and he whispered in a tone so low, so dangerously sharp, that only she could hear it. "You're trembling, my sweet wife. And your perfume..." He took a slow, deliberate breath, inhaling the scent of her skin. "Vanilla? My file said Kendra only wears French jasmine. Tell me... are you afraid of a blind man? Or are you afraid of me finding out who you really are?" Avery’s eyes widened in sheer horror. Before she could even gasp, Damien pulled back, a ghost of a cold, knowing smirk playing on his lips, and pressed his lips firmly to hers.

So, her miscarriage wasn't an accident; she got rid of our baby on purpose. Four years ago, my ex-girlfriend, Rosalie Bloom, betrayed me. She called off our wedding at the altar and made me the laughingstock of the town. Then, Noelle appeared out of nowhere with a ring, begging me to marry her. Moved by her apparent devotion, I nodded in agreement. Ever since we got married, she'd been gentle and considerate toward me. I had believed I was the love of her life. I never imagined that she had merely seen me as a walking bone marrow bank.