Modern Goth Clothes Novels & Stories

Vanessa Brooks was the kind of woman the world bowed to. Old money. Chandeliers. Every circle worshipped her—until Julian Frost decided she was guilty. He had loved her once. Or so she believed. But when murder by jealous rage became the charge, he didn't defend her. He testified. He stood in that courtroom and watched them drag her away in chains, his eyes colder than the steel on her wrists. Three years inside. Concrete walls. Thin blankets. Fists in the dark. They broke three ribs. Split her lip so many times she forgot how to smile. The magazine-cover beauty learned to sleep with her back to the wall, one eye open. When the gates opened, Vanessa walked out with nothing but the clothes on her back and a heart too dead for hatred. She left. She buried the name Julian Frost like a corpse. But Julian wasn't done. The moment he saw her on another man's arm—a ring that wasn't his—something inside him snapped. Cold indifference curdled into obsession. He tore her engagement apart. Dragged her back. Forced a ring onto her finger and built a prison from a marriage certificate. Vanessa endured in silence. No tears. No screams. Just divorce papers, slid across his desk, again and again. The third time, Julian ripped them in half. His voice was ragged—a king reduced to begging. "Divorce? Over my dead body."

'Clothes wouldn't be necessary here, Milady' He should have known she was up to something when she suddenly started to act naive, when she was after all, an escort. 'W-what the hell are you doing in my room?' She had asked when he first entered But he let his third leg do the thinking and forgot to be rational. 'I usually find the hard-to-get game, silly and boring. But, I think this roleplaying stuff gets your juices flowing. How about you be my naughty student instead.' He gently tucked her hair behind her ears and stared at her lips 'I am an escort sir. Not. A. Prostitute. My job description is escort and not call girl. I'll appreciate it if you leave my room or I'll call security.' 'Is this some sort of twisted role play? I already told you to stop. I paid for the night. What the fuck is going on here?' *** It wasn't role play. The slut had a nasty game up her sleeves. Set up and then blackmail. Fucking sleazy reporters were already at his door. Louis knew how deadly the media was in pushing stories about people like him. A false story about him had previously ruined his life. His father had suffered for it as well. He decided to give the media a story that wouldn't ruin him. Who didn't prefer romance to anything else? He looked into the slut's face and threw the proposal in her face. 'You would have to marry me.'

You have a choice," her first mate growled, his eyes cold and calculating. "Either you become my sex tool, or you leave the pack. But you can't take anything with you, not even the clothes on your back." In a world where strength and power are everything, she was an outcast. Her family had died saving a stranger, leaving her alone and despised by all. But the moon goddess had other plans for her, and granted her a mate. He was everything she had ever wanted, but he rejected her, coveting only her beauty. In a fit of rage, she kicked him to the curb and had a one night stand with a stranger. But her mate still had his eyes on her, and her life became a living hell. Bullied, enslaved, and isolated, she longed for a way out. And then, the Lycan King arrived, claiming her as his mate and bringing an end to her suffering. But secrets and dangers lurked in his kingdom, and she knew she couldn't stay. Faced with an impossible choice, she fled with her unborn babies, determined to raise them in secrecy. But why would she run? What was the truth behind her parents' death? And would the Lycan King recognize her and her babies when she returned completely different? As the Lycan King's secrets begin to unravel, she realizes that there is more at stake than just her own survival. Will she find the strength to confront her past and claim her place as the Lycan Queen, or will she be forever haunted by the ghosts of her past? Only time will tell in this gripping tale of love, betrayal, and the power of redemption.

Liana has spent her whole life trying to prove her worth to a family that never wanted her. As the daughter of an Alpha, she was meant to lead—until betrayal shatters her world. On the night of her anniversary, she catches her mate, Ryle, in bed with her sister, Samantha. Worse, her father sides with them, stripping her of her title and casting her out with nothing but a car and the clothes on her back. Wounded and lost, she finds an injured rogue in the woods—Kieran. Taking pity on him, she brings him to her pack’s hospital, only for her father to use it as an excuse to banish her. With nowhere to go, she follows Kieran, only to wake up in the palace of a mysterious king no one ever sees. As she struggles to rebuild her life, Liana finds herself drawn to Kieran in ways she never expected. He’s cold yet protective, distant yet possessive. Their passion ignites into something dangerous, but just when she begins to trust him, a noblewoman arrives—claiming to be his betrothed. And worse, she reveals the truth: Kieran isn’t a rogue… he’s the King. Heartbroken and betrayed once again, Liana vows to stay away, but Kieran refuses to let her go. With enemies lurking in the shadows and her past clawing its way back into her life, she must decide—will she fight for her place at his side, or will she walk away before history repeats itself? One thing is certain: she will never be a pawn again.

I was drugged. A male Rogue pinned me beneath him while my body went limp and useless. Just then, the door burst open. Vanessa Nightshade stormed in with several elders behind her. "Elders, look! I knew Seraphina was sneaking around with a Rogue!" Panic shot through me. I tried to explain, but the Rogue suddenly tore my clothes open. The red marks all over my body were on full display. "You were into it a minute ago. Now, you want to act innocent?" the Rogue sneered. Vanessa's eyes went wide. "Seraphina Thorncross! I never thought you'd sink this low, betraying your own Alpha! Elders, if she becomes our Luna, how can members of our pack show our face to anyone?" "No, I didn't..." I tried desperately to defend myself, but my mate, Axel Ravenscar, cut me off. "Seraphina, you were so jealous I found my fated mate that you jumped into bed with this trash on my birthday? Since our ten years together mean nothing to you, don't blame me for what I'm about to do." To appease his fated mate and the elders, he killed our unborn pup with his own hands and drained the blood from my body. After I died, he went insane looking for me. He dropped to his knees and begged me to be his Luna, begging me to forgive him.

Trigger Warning!! This book is very dark, containing torture and abuse, read at your own risk!! "Take off your clothes Brie! You can't run from me! I'll always catch you, little mouse." His menacing voice rang out. I was already caged between him and the wall, there was nowhere left to run. He caught my wrists in a strong grip, until I cried out from the pain. "Please I'm not ready! I need some more time" I sobbed, my whole body shaking badly,I was willing to do anything to reach out to whatever little humanity he has left. His eyes were cold. Merciless. He was going to hurt me, I knew it. "But you were ready to run away with that bastard, weren't you? " The smirk on his face as he taunted me betrayed the icy rage that simmered in his eyes. "You belong to me, Brie! I'm your husband! And I won't be denied of my rights, Refuse me again, I dare you to Brie!" He hissed, his grey eyes simmering with hot fury. What happens when Gabriella Thorne gets forced into an arranged marriage with Lucian Castiel. He is Cold. Brutal. He gets anything he wants. What happens when he's determined to TAINT Gabrielle's innocence with his darkness. Is there a flicker of light at the end of the tunnel, or would she be forever tainted by his Psychotic Obsession?

My grandfather, Marvin Vega, arranges a blind date for me. The guy, Hugo Crawford, comes from a well-respected scholarly family. Wanting to make a good impression on Hugo, I put extra effort into dressing up. But I have barely taken my seat when Hugo's self-proclaimed "gold-digger detector" childhood friend, Marlene Welch, comes charging over. She crosses her arms and sweeps a disdainful look over my outfit. "You're covered in designer brands from head to toe. How much are you planning to squeeze out of Hugo?" Hugo helplessly pulls her back and explains apologetically to me in a low voice, "She just went through a breakup, so she can't stand women who wear designer brands. Please don't take it personally." I smile and say nothing, figuring it's best not to make a scene at a first meeting. But Marlene starts criticizing me again, "You put on this whole pampered heiress act with the designer clothes and jewelry just so men will willingly bankroll you. "All this designer stuff must be from some ex-boyfriend you bled dry, right? Since I was little, I've seen plenty of fake socialites like you who'll stop at nothing to marry into money and bleed a man dry." I let out an exasperated laugh at hearing such vicious, prejudiced remarks. I then glance at the Patek Philippe on my wrist. Even in ten years, she still won't be able to afford what I'm wearing right now.

I'm one of the entertainment industry's most popular celebrities. One day, the Holmes family, the richest family in Hemmingville, comes to me and tells me I'm one of them. The day I return home, the city's paparazzi follow me to capture every second of my return. When I arrive at the Holmes residence, my adoptive sister stops me from entering. "We've looked into you and found out that you shot to fame after starring in an adult film. "The Holmes family has its rules—you have to change your clothes in public before you can step foot in here. Dad said that I'm the one who calls the shots when he and Jason aren't at home, so I hope you can understand me." In my past life, I would've acted cautiously and adopted a lowly stance for the sake of my image. But I've been reborn. I kick aside the things in my way and shove Nancy Holmes aside. "How ridiculous! You'd better stop and think whether you're worthy of telling me what to do. How dare you ask me to strip in public? "I'm insured from head to toe—you can't afford to pay me back if you even touch a hair on my head! And you call yourself the heiress of the family, huh? I'd like to see you grovel at my feet and beg me later!"

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

My wife had such a compassionate heart that she brought the young homeless man outside our apartment home for dinner, then demanded I give up my room so he could stay there. She spent the entire down payment I had saved on designer clothes for him and took him to five-star restaurants. She said she was only helping him and told me not to be so petty. Then, I got sick and ended up in the hospital. I called my wife and asked her to use the emergency funds in our bank account to pay for my surgery. She agreed right away. Despite that, I waited an entire day and missed the surgery, and the doctor told me I had only one month left to live. She never brought the money. Instead, I saw the photos she had posted on social media during her travels. My wife leaned against the homeless man in front of a famous landmark, smiling like she had everything she wanted. The caption read, "Wyatt said he's never been to any famous landmarks, so even if I have to spend every last cent, I'm going to take him around the world so he won't have any regrets. Also, someone was so afraid I'd spend money on Wyatt that he lied about being sick. He has no compassion at all!" Only then did I realize her so-called sympathy was just an excuse for falling for someone else. In that case, I did not want her anymore.