Monster How Do I Feel Novels & Stories

The person I don't wanna see again was really Infront of me. "Dave?" I asked. "Yes Amber it's me, so glad you didn't forget my name" He said. How could I forget the person who broke me. "You need to sleep a little longer" Dave said to me. And I saw him injected something on me and it makes me slept again. The moment I wake up I saw Dave staring at me. "Hey, are you watching me while I'm sleeping?" I asked. "Yeah, you love it when I watched you sleeping" he answered. The heck he didn't forget those little things that I loved him doing. "Why did you drink too much alcohol I told you before that your body reacts bad on this activity right, look at you now you are here at the hospital instead of enjoying your bridal shower" He still a good man I know, he still the one who's got so angry when I drunk too much alcohol.

I had funded Tilly Jenkins for five years—and spent those same five years chasing after her. Just when I thought I had finally won her heart—when I believed she was ready to spend her life with me—I discovered the truth: the one she had loved all along was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who had grown up by her side. I, on the other hand, to her, was nothing more than a privileged elite who used money to grind her pride into the dirt. A few years into our marriage, she secretly transferred my assets away—and even had a child with that childhood sweetheart of hers. In the end, I died filled with resentment, trapped in a raging fire. The flames reflected the sight of the three of them together, smiling like a perfect family, while I cried myself to death in despair. After I was reborn, Tilly's childhood sweetheart shoved me hard, sneering with open contempt. "What do you take us for? Toys for rich people like you?!" I slipped my bank card back into my pocket at once. "Sorry, having money doesn't mean I'm brain-dead. I'm not interested in trashy toys like that."

She could remember people through their smells, their voices, their accents, their everyday choices of words or through how they feel against her touch. That's exactly the meaning of socializing and making friends for someone like Meredith Kaye Santiago, a person who was suffering with prosopagnosia. To someone who couldn't remember anyone's face, dating was a no-no. She couldn't risk her heart to someone her eyes couldn't remember and her brain couldn't retain. But one night, she found herself caught up under the body of a stranger, and he's taking off her clothes. The stranger’s name was Rupert Santos, the Vulture’s vocalist and a guy with piercing on his bottom lip. She let him go all the way after he said, “Surrender your sensations”. Love hit her hard. That’s when his blurry face became clearer. And finally, she said, “I see you, Rockstar.”

They say that your past is never really left in your past. I used to think that was dumb until I experienced it. Four years ago, I met the Devil. He gave me a chance to flee from him but I refused and ended up shooting him. Unfortunately for me, he returned four years later to claim me as his wife and drag me to Hell. He's going to make sure I pay for shooting him. He's going to punish me in the worst ways possible. He has promised to make me beg for mercy he'll never grant me. But then, he's not the only one hellbent on making my life a living Hell. There's another person causing havoc from the shadows. I would have to choose eventually- be with the Devil I know or side with the Devil I do not know.

Seavora City, Carmoria. Nathan Ziegler's side chick, Sophie, was melting down—again. He shoved the divorce papers at me. "Just sign. It's for show. Gotta keep her calm." I clutched my dress, gave a small nod, and signed. No fuss. No scene. As I turned to leave, one of his buddies snorted, "Joelle's way too obedient. Bet she'd fetch the divorce decree if you asked." Nathan lit a cigarette, smirking. "Wanna bet?" To them, I was still the silent pushover. The girl who'd cry in court but still do what she's told. Trade one paper for another—marriage for divorce. I stared at my phone. The message I'd received earlier: [Why don't you just marry me?] I typed back: [Okay.]

Everyone said my good looks were what saved me from my family's downfall. It was how I managed to become a Donna. I was the only one who knew why he had to compromise to marry me. Xavier Whitmore, the tall and handsome Don, was unable to have physical relationships with a woman. When I shyly took off the gown on our wedding night, he sat in his chair and lit a cigarette before remarking in an icy voice, "I'm allergic to women. That said, you have my word that you will be the only woman in my life." He kept his promise. Though he never so much as touched me in the five years of our marriage, he provided me with a life of luxury and wealth. Although it was merely a title, being his only woman brought me happiness. Everything changed on the day my men and I were ambushed by a rival mafia family. We barely made it out alive. When I returned home, I found him locked in a tight embrace with his widowed sister-in-law, Alice Ortega. "Alice, I won't let you remarry. If you do, I'll make sure that man dies a thousand deaths." I scoffed. It wasn't so much that he couldn't handle being physical with a woman. It was simply that he could not be physical with anyone but her. In that case, she could have the pleasure of being the Donna.

Our bodies tangled in the car. My husband moved inside me, lips claiming my chest, when the sudden ring of a phone ripped me out of our intoxicating haze. Gabriel answered without hesitation. It was one of his closest friends from the medical world, speaking in German. “Don,” the voice said casually, “your mistress is two months pregnant. What are you going to do?” Gabriel didn’t pause. His tone was calm. “Grace can’t have children,” he replied. “I’ll let her carry the baby to term, then adopt it as my own. That secures the heir. This stays between us.” Something inside me froze. The one thing he had forgotten— I majored in German. And he learned it just to win me. I didn’t scream. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I smiled, stayed quiet, and kept playing the perfect wife. Later, I slipped the divorce papers into a real estate contract and watched him sign without reading. Then I quietly registered a new identity. For the next three days, his absence—and her taunting messages—erased the last illusions I had about love. When my new identity finally went live, I walked away without looking back. Carrying his child. And disappearing from his world forever.

All it took was a gunshot to have this criminal fucking me senseless. I'd spent months trying to bring down Antonio, the criminal I swore to put behind bars. I even set a trap for him, using someone close as bait. But instead of going down in chains, Antonio offered himself to me, in exchange for freedom. I should have said no, I should have followed the mission. But as a lonely divorcee craving warmth, how could I resist the way he touched me? The way his fingers made me forget the rules I live by? This wasn't the plan. My boss didn't send me here to get addicted to my enemy. Yet every secret night with Antonio leaves me wanting more, and drags me deeper into his dangerous world. He's supposed to die for his crimes, but unfortunately, the real crime is how badly I want him. And if the news gets out, I won't just lose my job– I'll lose my life.

“Here's the deal. Do that lawyer stuff that you do. Try to send me to jail.” “What?” I blinked. “I'm giving you a year, but in my territory. I'm not sending you back to the U.S, so better get used to Italy like you once lived.” “Excuse-” “But you'll have everything. Every resource. Impress me, show me why you're a top lawyer and get me locked up. Prove to everyone that I killed your parents.” “I'll send you to jail, even if it's the last thing I do, Roman. You're trying to ruin my life again, but this time I won't let you. You're finished.” “Now, the condition.” My eyes widened. Now a condition? “If you don't succeed, you won't ever have an opinion. You'll be my plaything, my pet, my personal slave, my cum bucket. You'll be whatever I want you to be, do you understand?” I felt instant chills ripple through me. “So that's what you want? To control me after killing my parents?” “Yes, exactly that. I want to humiliate you so badly, so better impress me and send me to jail, Gianna. Better do it.” His voice was thick with warning. No matter how much I desire him, I'll make sure he rots in jail. …… We don't always get what we want, Gianna. He killed her parents and she managed to escape the house fire. Years later and this invincible Mafia don gets arrested in the United States, and she's the top lawyer in charge of his case? Hmm, I wonder what happened next.

At our wedding, my wife's assistant "accidentally" uploaded the wrong photo. The big screen was supposed to display our wedding portraits. Instead, it was a picture of my wife and him in full wedding attire. Their fingers were laced together, their eyes locked in a soft, intimate gaze, looking every bit like a blissfully happy couple. The entire venue erupted in shocked whispers. The assistant froze in shock, acting like he had no idea why he was in the photo. He started panicking, asking if we should just postpone the ceremony. My wife, however, stayed surprisingly calm. She whispered her solution, “Everyone’s here. Postponing now would be humiliating and, honestly, a bad omen. Beside, most people here don’t even know what the groom looks like. Why don’t we just let him stand in for you?” Our friends were dumbfounded. They all thought I’d explode in anger and jealousy after hearing something so outrageous. Instead, I nodded, saying it was actually a great idea. Seeing how composed I remained, my wife looked pleased with herself. She told me that since we were legally married anyway, she’d make it up to me later with another ceremony. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing: she had just signed the divorce papers.