Novel Dahlia Novels & Stories

They sat at the dining table, the air thick with the scent of roasted chicken and garlic “Do you have any allergies?” Nate asked, reaching for the serving spoons. “Yes,” Dahlia replied without missing a beat. “Fake things.” She actually grinned a little at her own joke. Nate shook his head, smiling despite himself. He plated her food carefully before sitting across from her. Dahlia picked up her fork, took a bite, and immediately regretted it-not because it tasted bad, but because it was perfect. Warm, tender, seasoned to perfection. She bit back a sigh. Do not make a sound, Reyes. You will not give him that satisfaction.

She embraced the doll that Nathalia gave her, because she finds comfort in it whenever she is afraid, which she is all the time. Dahlia's mother was dressed in a black long-sleeved dress, scarlet stilettos, and her hair was carefully done into a bun. Her lips were as red as blood, and she was really going for a stunning look since she was going out to dinner with Grace's wealthy friends. Dahlia would never say no to Grace's invitation to an expensive dinner. Dahlia has been acting as Grace's friend for two weeks now. She couldn't help but giggle inside her head at Grace's naivety, at how she couldn't even see the red flags.

“I was only eleven when Dahlia kidnapped me. She held me for two weeks. She was always drunk when she came to meet me. She tied me in ropes and then whipped me, beat me and when she was not done, she would straddle me with me on my belly and carve her husband’s name on my back with a knife. She wanted to send a message to my father that what he did bore severe consequences. She didn’t give me food, or use the toilet. She wasn’t bothered that I was so young. All she cared about was getting to my father—killing him. Dahlia had no idea that every second I spent in the cold basement of her house, I plotted how to kill her. “My father tried to negotiate with her. He wondered if she had taken me f

I've never had a problem with spending money on a woman but Juni has a money spending addiction. I think that's why she always mingles with the rich. I'm currently staring at my phone's screen when I hear someone beside mention Dahlia's name. I immediately lift my head towards the garden's entrance and I can't seem to breathe properly. There she is standing tall on some shimmering heels, holder a little bag to match the shoes and not forgetting the red fitting gown with a shirt like bodice, fitting all her curves in all the right places. The red seems to shine under the lights here.

Her eyelashes looked damp from smoke and tears and there was ash smeared across the side of her neck. Save my what? The wedding? That had to be what she meant because this was Dahlia. Even while half unconscious, the first thing she’d think about was whether her event was still running on schedule. She’d spent months on this. She’d stayed up nights I didn’t even know about working on something that was supposed to prove she didn’t need me or my money or my name or any of the things I’d withheld from her So that’s what she meant. The thing about Morningdew was that it smelled different from the city.

Jenna shrieked from the second floor. I knew very well that Dahlia was stubborn, but I didn’t count on her being stupid as well. That meant that she probably did not try to escape in broad daylight. The sun had just set so she couldn’t have gone very far. … **Dahlia’s point of view**

Dahlia. “I said, yes. I already experienced being in Boss Dar’s bed. We had a mind-blowing s*x days ago, Gerthel. If I were you, do not be so conservative anymore. You will not regret doing it with him,” Ms. Dahlia said grinning wide. In her mind, she was boasting not only to tell someone else that she was able to taste the body of one of the most sought billionaire bachelors in town but also to piss off Gerthel since she could sense that she was hiding something from her. She could feel that Gerthel Maurii is no longer the virgin shy young lady that she thought about how to please a man. Worst, her mind suddenly recollected what Mr. Gab told her that it was Boss Dar with whom Gerthel spent

“What…?” Dahlia is struggling. Her body moves violently as she tries to get up. But she cannot. It is like something heavy is crushing her against the ground. She coughs suddenly.“Cough—!” A splash of dark red blood spills from her mouth. My eyes widen in shock. “Holy—” She coughs again. More blood. Real blood. I slowly push myself to my feet. My legs still feel weak but the pain in my head has completely disappeared now. The clearing is silent except for Dahlia’s heavy breathing as she struggles against whatever force is holding her down.

The flat was small and warm and full of Sade's daughters' school photographs going up the wall in a crooked line, and Dahlia had been coming here for fifteen years and had cried in this room perhaps four times, and she could feel that she was about to make it five. "He gave me one day," she said. Sade put a mug in front of her and sat down. "Tell me the thing," she said. "What exactly would you do tomorrow, if you did it." Dahlia wrapped both hands round the mug. "I'd send Lena a file," she said. "Go on."

These events were meant for people with peculiar tastes, and his seemed very peculiar. I clenched the sheets tightly. “Can I at least know your name?” I asked. If I was going to let him use all of those things on me, I deserved to know his name. “Can you tell me yours?” “Dahlia,” I answered simply. He hummed. “A pretty, delicate flower. Dahlia…” He rolled my name off his tongue as if it were the most exotic thing he had ever said. “Now that you know mine, can I know yours?”