My Darling Sick Beauty Novels & Stories

I took a step back, surveying my work with quiet satisfaction. It wasn’t long before Darling emerged first. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands escaping to frame her face just so. She was wearing a loose night shirt that made my jaw drop: in bold letters across the chest it read, “Hey! Big Tits Save Lives.” I nearly choked on my drink just reading it. She had that effect on me, every interaction with her was like a jolt to my senses, keeping me on edge, keeping me alert, keeping me… alive in ways I didn’t fully understand. Her presence alone was intoxicating. And the sweet, subtle scent she carried was still addictive, grounding me and making every part of me aware of her. “Did Rome

They exchanged a guilty glance. Darling tried to recover quickly. “We… um… cleaned the part you can see. The rest is artistically arranged chaos.” I burst into laughter. “Artistically arranged, huh?” “Yes!” Darling beamed. “We worked very hard.” Paris’s sunlight caught his curls, turning them golden. Dillion looked exactly like him—same eyes, same smile—but Darling was the more dramatic one, while Dillion carried a quiet confidence, a steadiness I admired deeply. I shook my head and sighed in mock defeat. “Fine. Shopping it is.”

She was very beautiful even while dressed so casually. Then he remembered the sweet smile she flashed him and he could feel his heart warming up. He knew he was a goner. He wanted her by his side and he would do anything to achieve that. Widely known as the most unscrupulous business man in town who could do anything for profits,he swore that this time, he'll do everything to have her. It didn't matter if he had to lay a trap for her. As long as he could get her by his side,he was willing to add more to his sins.

I wanted Miranda to accompany me on a trip abroad for a while, but she said she had recently started seeing a younger athlete and wasn't ready to let go of her fun just yet. I sighed and told her to visit me whenever she had time, promising to cover her ticket. Miranda laughed and declined, saying I should save the money to meet some handsome foreigners instead. I told her I couldn't be as carefree as she was and that my broken heart wouldn't heal so quickly. Miranda said, "Don't glamorize me! Carefree? Confident? No, I'm just a player—a match made in heaven for other players. I drift through the crowd, leaving no trace behind. Everyone's happy."

They finally found a seat and Beauty kept gazing at him till he coughed. “ She's the celebrant. “ “ Seems like it." Beauty said sarcastically. “ She once dated my brother too. " “ Oh I see. What about the tiny dick part?" “ She tried to seduce me but I resisted. " “ Oh...." “ Who is she?!" A long red painted nails slammed on the table.

Some young, unmarried women were crying, unable to resist such a sight. However, for Beauty, her hands were trembling, fingers tight around her bouquet of white orchids and olive branches. She closed her eyes as the lyrics washed over her like waves, every note digging deeper into her chest. She told herself not to cry. But her eyes were already watering. “All of my doubts suddenly go away somehow. One step closer I have died every day waiting for you Darling, don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years I’ll love you for a thousand more.”

Beauty’s apartment was a contradiction sleek designer furniture against walls painted a deep, dangerous crimson. The curtains were drawn tight, the air heavy with the scent of jasmine and smoke. She moved like a cat through the dim light, glass of wine in hand, the city’s chaos muted behind thick drapes. Marcus was in her armchair, his shirt damp from the rain, a smirk playing on his lips. “You enjoyed that little performance,” he said. Beauty took a slow sip. “Of course. I needed Jack to see you alive. I needed him unsettled.”

His grey eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were soft, warm, and filled with adoration. "Welcome to paradise, Mrs. Blackwood," he said, his voice low and smooth. Belle took his hand, stepping into the aisle. Her cheeks flushed pink, a shy smile playing on her lips. She wore a light, flowing sundress, her hair loose and catching the sunlight. "It’s breathtaking, Draven. I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my life." "Beauty is subjective," Draven murmured, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. "To me, you are the only thing worth looking at. Everything else is just background."

Daniel’s pov The scent of lemon and pine filled the kitchen, a sharp contrast to the nerves brewing within me. Beauty was scrubbing the already spotless countertops, her movements robotic, almost desperate. I leaned against the doorway, watching her. The late afternoon sun streamed through the window, catching the dust motes dancing in the air, but failing to illuminate the darkness in her eyes. "Everything alright, Beauty?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle. She jumped, a tiny flinch that betrayed her composure. "Fine," she chirped, too quickly, too brightly. Her smile didn't reach her eyes, those beautiful, usually vibrant eyes that now held swirling lines of worry. "Just... cleaning."

I wasn’t sure when Beauty got this opinionated, but it was refreshing and scary at the same time. “Beauty, you didn’t tell me that you wanted to marry Mr. Zane.” She turned to look at me with the most innocent eyes ever. “I was going to tell you, but I don’t know how.” I laughed. “You know you can always talk to me, right?” She nodded. “So can I get married to Mr. Zane?” “Sure,” I replied. She smiled and went back to watching the sky. I caught Damien staring at me, and instead of looking away, he didn’t. He just gave me a smile, and it was so beautiful.