Madness Table Novels & Stories

When he pushed her into the water at the alliance banquet — eight months pregnant, fighting for her life while he held another woman and asked if she was okay — something in Ivy finally broke beyond repair. She lost her son in a hospital room Noah never came to. She signed the divorce papers alone at midnight while he was across town blowing up birthday balloons for his first love. And when he finally walked through the door that night smelling like another woman's celebration, he had the nerve to ask if she even cared about the baby. She pushed the papers across the table and said one thing. "Reject me. Tonight.". He still doesn't know their baby is gone. And honestly? Let him find out the hard way. Ivy is done protecting a man who never once protected her.

Lucien Varelli loved me best when my madness belonged to him. I tracked his convoy routes, checked his burner phones, and almost turned the city upside down whenever he disappeared for more than five minutes. At first, Lucien loved it. He kissed the signet ring on my hand and swore no woman, no family, no power in the city could ever take him from me. Until the night I cut off a call from Celeste Ardian. After that, I was no longer his wife. I was a problem. A scandal. A woman too unstable to stand beside the heir of a ruling house. So Lucien signed the papers and sent me to St. Dymphna House. They called it a private residential clinic. What it really was, was a place where inconvenient women were broken down and rebuilt into something quieter. Five years later, Lucien came to take me home. The director told him I had done beautifully. I no longer screamed. I no longer fought. I knew how to lower my eyes, soften my voice, keep my hands still, and smile like a proper Donna. Lucien thought they had cured me. He was wrong. They had not cured my madness. They had only killed the part of me that once loved him.

He slid his hands to my lower back, pressing me to his solid chest. “Do you have any mark on your body?” he whispered, his warm breath brushing against my ear. My heart thudded—not only from his nearness, but from his question. I still didn’t know what the mark meant. “No,” I lied. **** The night Emily Harpar is meant to shift, grief swallows her wolf, leaving behind only a faint crescent mark burned into her skin. Raised and mistreated in the kitchens of a powerful beta family, Emily loses everything—her mother, her dignity, and the mate who rejects her. Branded disgraced, she is sold into slavery… and claimed by the most dangerous ruler of all. Damian Stone, the feared Lycan King, is dying. Poisoned and sustained by a heart transplant, his human soul lies dormant while his ruthless lycan spirit, Malric, controls his body. With only three full moons before madness consumes him, Malric must find the Luna Healer marked by a crescent moon. Time is running out, and the mate he can’t resist is hiding the very mark that could save him. If the truth is discovered, she will be killed. If he chooses her, he will lose everything.

“Agapi (love)” purrs a voice, a rich velvety voice as hot breath hits against my ear, sending shivers down my core making me whimper. “Words Principessa (Princess)” comes another soft yet firm smack to my ass. “Please” I whimper. My need for them growing. “Please what?” asks another. “What is it that you want? Say it Neonata (Baby Girl)” commands the dominating voice in the group. “Take me! I can’t bare it any longer” I cry. Tears threatening to fall from behind the blindfold. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” asks one of the voices, as I suddenly hear the smirk behind it. ~~~~~~~~~~ Isabella Moretti has always been a Princess. That is until her father seeks the help from four powerful men. Lucus, Grant, Alex and Tony are these men. Not only are they powerful but also leading men of the Mafia, each dominating within the office, streets, and bedroom. From wanting what they want to sharing just about everything. Wanted by many, Isabella has no choice but to marry not 1 but 4 of these powerful men, each offering pleasure in ways she could only dream of. But with 2 other families after her, can Isabella survive the madness? Or does acknowledging one’s deepest desires prove to be much, forever ruined by these notorious men?

My husband, Daniel Thompson, looked down on me. I was just a farmer's daughter in his eyes, and he never loved the son I gave birth to. It wasn’t until our baby turned 100 days old that he held him for the first time. Then, one day, his first love, Claire Matthews, came back to the city. That night at dinner, Daniel, who was always cold and distant, finally smiled. He even reached across the table and placed a piece of meat on Noah’s plate. Noah beamed all evening, clutching onto that tiny gesture like it was a treasure. Just before bed, he whispered to me, "Mom, do you think he likes me now… even just a little?" I wrapped him in my arms, tears blurring my vision as I gently shook my head. "No, sweetheart. It’s because the woman he truly loves is back. It’s time for us to go."

I spent three hundred dollars on a brand-new phone for my mother, only for her to start saying that the smartphone was stealing her money and that I had personally siphoned off her bank balance. I could never win the argument. So I offered to just reimburse whatever “loss” she imagined. She got even more unhappy. She slapped a stack of receipts on the table and demanded I pay up. “Where did you buy this piece of junk? It’s a ticking time bomb. Give me my money back!” Most of the receipts were for men’s sneakers and athletic wear; the rest were household basics like brooms and hangers. I felt a wave of suffocating frustration. Since when was shopping free? Why was I expected to pay for her? I bought her a new phone, and I just became the ATM? “Fine. If you hate it that much, I’m taking it back to the store.” But she would not let go.

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

Every anniversary, Mark had some twisted surprise for me. Our tenth? He strutted into the ballroom holding hands with an escort wearing straight up lingerie. "Jenna, she's cold. Hand over your dress." Then, like that wasn't sick enough: "And the lingerie. She likes your vibe." I clutched my collar, trying to keep it together. He didn't care—just yanked it open. "Cut the act. Your dad sold you to me, remember? That slutty look you used to give me—I still see it." Everyone stared, waiting for me to break. So I did the one thing I could. "I want a divorce." Again. Mark just laughed and chucked a stack of photos on the table—me, covered in marks, curled in bed, a total mess. "You say that every year. And every year, you're back in my bed. Think your mom keeps that hospital spot if these get out?"

I just woke up one day with a handsome vampire by my side, offering me a contract marriage. I knew it was like being courted by the devil, yet like a foolish lamb who laid herself on the sacrificial table, I reached for his hand, not knowing that it would consume my reckless heart. Eve was caught in a fight between vampires and werewolves after her vampire boyfriend left her. With her family and friends killed by an unknown vampire group, she is left with no choice but to ask for Landon's help, the vampire lord who saved her for his personal interest. Landon was a scheming man who holds many dark secrets, a devil who won't hesitate to consume the souls of his victims. He wants to play with Eve, to consume her little by little, but when his dead heart starts to feel warmth for the first time, he realized he found someone he is willing to burn a whole city for.

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.