Lovesick Expression Novels & Stories

On the day we finalized our college applications, I chose Cromwell University. The moment my brother saw it, his expression turned icy. Before I even understood what was happening, everything went black. When I woke up, I was trapped inside a glass box. All because our cousin Wendy had failed to get into Cromwell. To make it up to her, he ordered his men to carry me to an underground auction, putting me on display for a hundred strangers to gawk at for entertainment. I pounded on the glass, crying and begging for someone, anyone, to let me out. No one came. Men gathered around, their gazes shameless and invasive, murmuring to each other as if I were an object, something to be assessed and priced. My brother stood among them, watching. Then he smiled. "You brought this on yourself," he said lightly. "You had everything, our parents' support and my protection, and still you went after Wendy. You even had someone threaten her. "Because of you, she missed her exams. Because of you, she lost Cromwell." He took a step closer, his voice turning colder. "Your life's been too easy. It's time you learned what it feels like to be humiliated." I sank to the floor of the glass box, my body trembling, my mind going blank. While I was being reduced to nothing, he booked an entire resort in Wendy's honor, hosting a grand celebration for her acceptance to Halvard University. Later, when our parents called and asked him to bring me along, his assistant interrupted with a message. "Mr. Lawson… the police have confirmed Miss Kelly's death."

"I...wish to die..." Her small voice came out in a quiver; her whole body trembled as she braved herself to look up, showing her green but dull eyes to be seen by the man stood towering her. She didn't dare to move a single finger, even breathing the same air as him suffocate her. For all the rumours she heard about him. Alpha Cillian, silently looked at her with his golden eyes. He didn't even change a slight expression on his handsome face, nor he throw a warning growl at her for had the guts to lock eyes with him. Alpha Cillian, famous for his cold and ruthless act. The Alpha of the biggest and powerful pack in the continent, Silver Moon. His hands coated in blood of criminals and innocent people. Such dangerous creature, will never be softer to anyone. Then why is it have to be different towards her even though she is his mate? Chloe, not the only living Omega in Rock Mountain Pack, but she was the one with the most miserable fate. When everything seemed to be luck and blessing for her to be saved by the Alpha and became his adopted daugther; after she lost her parents due to the rogues attack, years later, it was nothing but torture. Not a single time pass Chloe didn't resent herself for not being able to escape and flee to have a normal life just like how everyone looks happy with theirs. Just how the Moon Goddess seemed to hate her that much that She sent her a man that will only added the misery she's been going through? Or... will this Chloe chance to escape? Will he help her from her live and escape death or rather grant her wish to embrace the death sooner?

On New Year's Eve, my in-laws, Richard Prescott and Leona Reed, had flown back to have dinner at my place. However, our butler, Rupert Williams, had only prepared two plates of cold lobster rolls even though I had specifically reminded him that Leona was allergic to lobster. Rupert looked at me with his usual stiff expression and said, "Mr. Shaw, I understand that people from your background like to take advantage of situations. Your parents showing up for a free holiday meal doesn't surprise me." He added, "But as Ms. Jaclyn Prescott's most trusted butler, I have a duty to protect the Prescott family assets from being touched by questionable individuals, even if it's just a dinner. That said, I'm not heartless enough to let two elderly people go hungry. "Here are some leftover expired lobster rolls. Your parents can eat them and leave. Ms. Prescott is very busy with work, and I can't have her come home later only to deal with your poor parents." I froze for a moment, then realized he had mistaken Jaclyn's parents for mine. He was deliberately trying to humiliate me like he always did. I was about to explain when Richard and Leona, furious, turned to leave. However, Rupert called for the security guards to block their way. "I can understand that people from rural areas might lack proper manners, but wasting food is still a bad habit. Since the lobster rolls have already been prepared, I insist you finish them before you go."

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, I noticed something strange. My best friend, Darren Blackburn, who had always been single, had suddenly changed his profile picture to a couple’s photo. "So you’ve been hiding a girlfriend from me?" I joked with a grin. "When are you bringing her around? I should at least meet her and make sure she’s good enough for you." He just smiled and shook his head, brushing it off. "Not yet," he said. "It’s not the right time." Then Deanna Cunningham, my wife’s voice called out from the kitchen, "Babe, come help me tie my apron." I hadn’t even pushed my chair back yet when Darren was already on his feet, jogging over. He stepped behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and tied the apron strings for her. I froze where I stood. Seeing the look on my face, he quickly tried to explain, "I’m just used to helping out at home. My mom’s always bossing me around. It’s basically muscle memory. Don’t read into it." I didn’t argue or make a scene. I kept my expression neutral and carried on with the dinner as if nothing had happened. Only after all the guests had left did I turn to Deanna, who was clearing the table, and say calmly, "Let’s get a divorce." She slammed the dishes down with a loud crash and glared at me. "Seriously? Over something like that? Just because he tied my apron once?"

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé, Shawn Chandler, insisted that I wear a bridesmaid’s dress while having a million-dollar wedding gown custom-made for his childhood sweetheart. “Jessica said she wants to fulfill her dream of wearing a wedding dress. She’s been looking forward to seeing me get married since she was little.” I threw the bridesmaid’s dress into the trash. His expression darkened as he scolded me, “Why are you so unreasonable? Even if you wear a bridesmaid’s dress, you’ll still be the bride. And if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pregnant, I wouldn’t be marrying you at all!” Placing my hand over my belly, I slammed the door and left. That night, he posted wedding photos with Jessica Jordan on his social media. Five years later, Shawn and I met again at a charity gala. He was invited as a specially invited donor, with Jessica by his side in a custom designer gown. The two behaved intimately. When he saw me crouching in a corner sorting a donated box of old clothes, he frowned and walked over. “Tiana Larrinson, you refused to wear that bridesmaid’s dress back then, and now, you’ve fallen so low that you’re rummaging through other people’s old clothes? “Look at you, sneaking into events like this by picking through scraps. You should’ve just listened to me back then.” I was confused, and it took me a long time to remember who he was. What he did not know was that the items up for auction at this charity gala were my and my daughter's old clothes.

On the day of the wedding, Galen Shaw forces me to crack walnuts with my bare hands for his so-called female buddy. My expression goes cold, and I refuse outright. "My hands are for holding a scalpel, not cracking walnuts for her!" He only chuckles and orders someone to hold me down. Then, he glues the walnuts to my palms himself. One by one, he slams them against the ground. "You cheated while studying medicine. Now that you've married me, forget about ever being a doctor again!" I grit my teeth through the pain. My fingers are aching, but I try to explain. "I went abroad to study medicine for you!" His so-called female buddy sneers in a shrill voice. "All that talk about the Shaw family's hereditary disease is nonsense! Galen has been perfectly healthy for over 20 years. Don't tell me you just want another excuse to cozy up with your precious senior?" The moment those words leave her lips, the faint thought of having someone bandage my hand disappears. A shadow crosses Galen's face. "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson!" He throws me into the basement and locks me there for three days. By the time I crawl out, my hands are completely ruined. Later, when Galen's hereditary disease finally surfaces, the doctor tries to comfort him. "This disease may be terminal, but there is still a way. Dr. Robinson has just returned from overseas. She's the only one in the world who can perform this surgery. "I hear that she's your wife."

Ever heard of a “wife for hire”? Absurd, right? Well, it was a brand-new concept to me too. As I stared at the billionaire sitting across from me, one thought rang loud and clear in my mind.“This man has lost it.“ How did I go from interviewing for a cleaner’s position to this? An offer to “marry” a billionaire? The words had barely left his lips before I scoffed, unable to help myself. “Is this some kind of joke?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, skepticism dripping from every word. He tilted his head to the side, his expression oddly calm. His brows lifted slightly as his sharp gaze locked onto mine. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice steady yet tinged with what seemed like guilt—or maybe embarrassment. “Did I offend you? If I have…” “I mean, no offense, but… look at you. You’re tall, handsome, rich,” I continued, gesturing toward him as if to underline my point. “Any woman out there would swarm around you, dying for the chance to be with you. So, why me? Unless there’s more to it. Unless there’s… a motive.” … After being handed divorce papers at the hospital—mere moments after losing her baby,Amber refuses to fall apart. She is not weak. She is not pathetic. She won’t waste tears on the heavens or wait for Karma to settle the score. Instead, she vows to become Karma herself. However, fate leads her to an encounter with him, a wealthy, enigmatic billionaire with a haunting past and a son who longs for a mother. Drawn to her striking resemblance to someone from his past, he makes her an audacious offer. One that could change both of their lives forever.

Raisel Alaric Warden, a devoted wife, loves caring for her husband, Alaric Warden, a millionaire businessman at Warden Company. They fell in love in college and have been happily married for three years. However, Raisel’s world was shaken when she discovered that Alaric had feelings for Davina, his secretary, from their university days. Though initially unworried, Raisel noticed Alaric’s growing absence at events. At a social gathering, Raisel’s best friend, Hazel, noticed her solitude. “Why are you by yourself?” Hazel asked, handing Raisel a drink. “Alaric was busy,” Raisel replied, masking her unease. As they spoke, Raisel saw Alaric with Davina, their affection evident. When Davina kissed Alaric’s cheek, causing a stir among photographers, Raisel’s heart sank. “What is this all about?” Raisel asked, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Raisel, but I want a divorce. I love Davina,” Alaric confessed, as tears filled Raisel’s eyes and cameras flashed around them. Overwhelmed, Raisel fled, only to be caught by strong arms—those of Soren Dalton, her best friend and billionaire businessman, whom she hadn’t seen in five years. “Soren,” Raisel whispered. Understanding the situation from a video his bodyguard showed him, Soren’s expression turned cold, his glare fixed on Alaric, Davina, and the paparazzi. “Remember in college, when I pretended to be your boyfriend to keep other guys away? Let’s do that again,” he whispered in her ear. Torn between the past and present, Raisel looked between Soren and Alaric, caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

“You want a divorce,” he said flatly. “Yes.” “You.” He tilted his head. “The same woman who begged her father to arrange this marriage because she's completely in love with me, who has spent two years making my life…” he stopped, and rephrased “you want a divorce.” “People change.” “What scheme is this now Arabella?” I frowned. “It's not a scheme, it's a divorce, and it's very common among people who are done with a…” “Impossible.” He said it like that was the end of it, discussion over. He turned away from me and walked toward the door like I hadn't said anything at all. “Andrew!” “Get up.” He didn't turn around. “Get dressed, something presentable. We're going to the palace tonight.” “I just asked you for a divorce…” “It's a banquet.” He finally glanced back over his shoulder, and there was nothing in his expression that suggested he'd heard a single word I said about divorce. “We're meeting the King tonight. You have a few hours so I suggest you stop wasting them.” “Did you hear what I just said to you?” “Get ready, Bella.” ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ The Ruthless Lycan King isn’t just my mate. He’s my secret. I’m already married to Alpha Andrew yet every full moon, I end up in the King’s arms… feeding his curse with my blood, and my body. He needs me to survive. I need him more than I should. If my husband ever finds out, this forbidden affair will start a war.

Layla is standing too close to him. She knows it the moment she stops moving, when the space between them shifts from accidental to deliberate. Luca doesn’t step back. He never does. He only looks down at her, dark eyes steady and unreadable, as if he’s been waiting to see whether she’d do exactly this. “You’re doing it again,” he says quietly. “Doing what?” Her voice gives her away—soft, breathless. “Standing where you shouldn’t.” His gaze drops briefly to her mouth. “And pretending you don’t know.” Heat coils low in her stomach. “Maybe I don’t care.” That gets his attention. Something sharp flickers across his expression—control tightening. He reaches out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn’t. His fingers hook lightly under her chin, tilting her face up. The touch is barely there, but it steals her breath all the same. “Careful,” he murmurs. “That’s not something you say to men like me.” “Why?” she whispers. “Because you might misunderstand?” His thumb traces her jaw, deliberate. “No,” he says. “Because I won’t.” His hand stays there, steady, grounding. She feels the restraint in him now—the effort it takes not to close the distance completely. “There are lines I don’t cross lightly,” Luca says. “And once I do, Layla, I don’t step back.” She swallows. “Then why are you still here?” He leans in just enough that his breath ghosts her skin. “Because you haven’t asked me to.”