Mr Brightside Girlfriend Novels & Stories

Meet Usha Mehta, sitting there calmly on the wedding stage looking as beautiful as ever in that red sari. But observe clearly her face in all the chaos of the few people running here and there in a hurry to conduct a perfect wedding. Is she smiling happily looking at the wonderful arrangements? No way! Nevertheless, she is taking deep breaths so that she will not strangle the man sitting beside her. So talking about man, let’s see what he is doing. Well, he is also looking handsome but doing the same thing, and that is taking deep breaths not to strangle the girl sitting beside him. They both are looking with wide eyes, imagining the guests saying loudly “You both can’t escape this marriage.” Poor them! Or is it really? Well, we just have only one option and that is to look at their journey from starting.

“Elena Verlice, you are under arrest for aiding and possibly abetting the escape of an inmate. All you say now may or may not be used against you in the court of law so, you have the right to remain silent.” The voice of the fat policeman that looked like he had lived his whole life on donuts resounded in my office as he cuffed me. Oh my God! What the hell is going on? Why am I being accused of helping her escape? Wait…. He escaped? Tears started to well in my eyes. “How could he betray me this way? I had risked everything for him and this is all I get? I really hoped that he wasn't going to do it. I guess I was only a stepping stone in his elaborate plan. I guess I was the only one who fell, both in love and in life. I thought he…...” I trailed off in thought tears began to pour from my face for the first time in forever.

An erotic romance When Elna's father first suggests an arranged marriage between her and Brandon Stark—the hot British billionaire—she is reluctant to go on a date with the man. On realising the dire state of their family business and the stress it puts on her beloved parents, Elna makes the bold decision to go ahead with it. Her family comes first. What she expects is a cold, cordial marriage. What she hopes is for their relationship to eventually lead to something more, as was the case with her parents. Ambitious go-getter that she is, Elna takes it upon herself to make her calm, controlling, anti-romance husband fall helplessly in love with her. But what she doesn't expect is to be drawn into Brandon's BDSM world of chains and whips, doms and subs. Will Brandon's love be more than Elna can handle?

Four years after being kidnapped and changing her name to keep up the ruse of her death, Serenity is forced to return to her old life by her overbearing father Unfortunately for her, along with her dysfunctional Mafia family comes the once love of her life; Alexander Moretti and a mysterious threat intent on killing her Facing an unknown enemy, Serenity and Xander must find a way to navigate the complicated waters of their relationship and keep her alive long enough to get to the bottom of it, but what happens when her family is destroyed leaving Xander no other option but to become the Don of the Mafia? Will Serenity stick around even after she finds out his part in her family's destruction? *** Serenity exited the bathroom clad in a robe with a towel in her wet hair when a chill ran down her spine. The barrel of the gun against her temple made her freeze and let out a shaky breath as the towel dropped from her hands when they raised. Turning slowly, Serenity came face to face with Alexander and just as quick as the panic came, it subsided. Serenity released a heavy breath and Xander's gun fell. "Serenity!” He stared at her with wide eyes

“Strip.” He ordered simply, his eyes boring tentatively, “I'll not give you the liberty of picking up your clothes if you will not do as you're told.” “You married me to get revenge on me!” I spat, angrily. “You are not supposed to have any carnal knowledge of me, I won't let it happen.” He smiled. The same smile that cuts across his lips yet doesn't reach his face. “You want me to have sex with you?” “Isn't that what you mean by stripping?” I asked, confusion boldly written on my face. A loud, dry mocking laugh from him almost made me wish for death. “No wife.” He whispered, standing up from the bed towards me. “I don't want to see any of my properties on you in my house, I want you tattered and extremely void, I want to see what you will do when you're all bare before me.” I stumbled backwards at the hatred in his voice. “I want to see you at your lowest, Now strip!”

Sophia Blanc has worked hard to fight her demons and make an honest woman from the young girl riddled with guilt over past mistakes. Doing the job she loves the most, working as a nurse in St Peter’s hospital, she wanted nothing more than a quiet life where she could hide from the world and pretend that she wasn’t haunted by memories of her past. Until she met the suave Matt Wolffe. Matt Wolffe, also known as the Wolf of the business world and devourer of hearts was no stranger to the spotlight. It’s no secret that Matt Wolffe wants her…and she wants him too. And as they come together in a storm of desires ghosts of the past threaten to pull them apart. Author's note: Alright readers, you are in for a slow burn because, come on, my characters are not horny rabbits and this is my first CEO style romance so I'm testing the waters. So please support and comment on ways I can improve. Also please vote my book with gems. Thank you.

In the third year I've decided to support my girlfriend, Iris Fulton, by opening a flower shop, she has gone into bankruptcy once again. The first time she went bankrupt, I sold the house my grandma had left for me so that I could clear the debt of 700 thousand dollars. The second time she went bankrupt, I was able to locate the bank passbook Mom had left for me as a wedding gift. That was how I paid back one million and six hundred thousand dollars. The third time Iris has gone bankrupt, however, I can only grip the note with my filthy rich dad's phone number while staring at her lost and dazed expression. At that time, I'm debating whether or not I should call him. But that night, I accidentally notice the chat history on Iris' group chat that's displayed on her tablet. "Hey Iris, how many figures are you going to fill into the sum of the bankruptcy contract that's supposed to be cleared this time?" "Let's put ten million dollars. Otherwise, that flower-selling plaything will be able to clear the debt in one go. It'll make things very boring." "As expected of you, Iris! I heard that the plaything waters flowers in the morning and waters your 'flower garden' at night. You're never tired of him, are you?" I put down Iris' tablet before calling my dad right away. "You want me to take over the family business and marry your student, right? Fine, I'll do it. Get your men to pick me up in three days."

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”

Pedro Hernandez spent seven years away from Los Angeles and after the death of his father, Maxwell Hernandez, he can finally return home. With Max's death, Pedro feels relief and freedom, after living a lonely life, trapped in Madrid, a city he hated, far from the people he loved. However, everything he knew is completely different and now he must adapt to the city again while taking on the responsibility of being the CEO of his father's company, something Max considered "The Hernandez Empire". His reunion with old acquaintances after so many years may bring back memories. Pedro faces a reality check when he meets Adrielle, his old girlfriend, someone he was forced to leave behind, married to Leonard Williams, a mysterious man who could threaten the stable life of the Hernandez family. Torn apart by anger, resentment and hurt feelings, Pedro is burdened with yet another conflict: Leonard is not only his love rival, but also the heir to the estate left by Max. The tension and anger grow with each passing moment, as Pedro tries to deal with Leonard, take over the company and make up for the years stolen from him. Pedro is no longer the same man who left Los Angeles seven years ago, there is resentment and anger surrounding his heart. With Max's death, he has a second chance to live alongside the people he loves, but he still wants answers to all the evil caused by his father. Is Pedro really willing to discover all of Max's secrets? How many tears can love endure?

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.]