Ojou Sama Laugh Novels & Stories

"Flower, you are mine. Mine to hold. Mine to pluck. Mine to scatter. Mine to decorate. You will bloom in my garden and die there as well, if need arises." 'The Vampire's Flower - The Tragically Imperfect yet Perfectly Sweet Love Story Of A Human Assassin and A Vampire King' As a child, Eleanor was always against killing. But, something changed her narrative completely one day. The Murder Of Her Mother. The wrong done that night to her made an unfathomable killer come to birth. The killer who turned the Vampire Kingdom Of Eleneas upside down. Knife. Her way of murdering people shook others to their core as the people as well as the nobles grew terrified of this person. And, their fear led them to the gates of their Tryant Ruler. Daniel. Seeing the reaction of his subjects piqued his curiosity. As he went to search for this killer. Deep in the woods. There she was running after children with an innocent laugh on her lip. Her blonde hair like sunlight fluttering in the air with a smile burning brighter than the sun.  And, in that moment, he knew he found his queen. But, she loathed him. For every wrong and right reason. So when she was forced to marry him. Instead of wearing a white gown like an angel. She walked down the aisle covered in RED!

I was born into hardship, but my beauty led to my adoption by the Maddox family. When I was 18, they brought home two boys. Dustin Holland, a piano prodigy, quickly bonded with my sister, who was the darling of our social circle. Nathan Holland remained in the shadows. He didn't like to talk, laugh, or even show the normal emotional fluctuations of a person. His stubborn, wooden gaze was like that of an abandoned stray dog. Diagnosed with emotional detachment disorder, he became my project. I vowed to heal him. He locked me in a dark room, scarred my face with a branch, and encased my favorite doll in plaster. I forgave it all, thinking he was just traumatized. The elite in the circle mocked us, urging me to abandon him, but I kissed him publicly, declaring, "I love Nathan. Anyone who hurts him will pay." Then a fire tore through our home. Nathan stepped over my broken body to save my sister, his eyes wet with rare tears. Turned out, his disorder had a cure. It was just not me. Reborn on the day they arrived, I looked at the taciturn boy and sneered, "Dad, must we take in every stray?"

By the fifth year of my marriage to River Grayson, I had stopped checking his call logs and chat records. Instead, I spent my nights drinking and partying with my girlfriends at the poolside bar. When his ninety-ninth missed call lit up my screen, I let out a cold laugh and tossed my phone straight into the water. It didn't take long before he came storming in. The moment he pulled the strawberry-scented condom out of my pocket, he turned grim and banned me from leaving the house after 7:00 PM. "Joanne, you weren't like this before." I thought back to last month, when I had run into him at the hospital. He had lied about being on a business trip out of town, but there he was, holding Yvonne Sinclair's hand. I still remembered his words. "You lost your uterus from saving me back then. My sperm is perfectly fine. I'll give you a child—with your mother's help." Now, staring into his furious eyes, I said coldly, "Don't worry. There's no going back for us anymore."

She was the daughter of a monster. He was the brother of a ghost. And their love was never supposed to exist. Sama Arthur has spent her entire life locked away in a golden cage—an Omega born to a cruel kingpin who saw her as a pawn, not a person. The only man who ever showed her kindness died for it. So she ran. She bled. She disappeared. Now she lives under a stolen name, with trembling hands and nightmares she hides behind lipstick and laughter. But monsters have long memories. And so does Dean Wason. Dean is an Alpha forged in blood, trained to kill, and fueled by one thing—revenge. His younger brother was executed with a bullet to the head. The killer walked free. Now Dean wants to break him—but not with bullets. With heartbreak. With suffering. With the thing his enemy loves most. So he hunts Sama. He stalks her. Finds her. But when he finally sees the terrified woman dancing under neon lights, he doesn’t see a target. He sees something twisted and broken. Something like him. And that changes everything. She’s supposed to die. He’s supposed to walk away. But obsession is a wildfire—and neither of them is safe. What starts as a trap turns into a war of dominance and surrender, secrets and scars. Dean wants to hate her. Sama wants to survive him. But desire is betrayal. And love? Love is lethal. When lies unravel and the truth cuts deep, Sama learns that Dean isn’t just the man who could destroy her—he’s the only one who ever truly saw her. And Dean? He realizes that the woman who ruined his mission is the only one who ever understood his pain.

After the regime of her tyrant father who imposed hell on every kingdom, Meandra, Princess of Kingdom Coal is left to bear the brunt of her fathers sin. Each year, she’s to be passed to suffer under each Lord, to be used and battered as they like. Seven Lords. Seven Kingdoms. Seven Hell. Born as a princess, treated less than a slave. Now in her sixth year, Meandra is sent to Lord Alejandro, ruler of the most powerful kingdom and the man her father wronged the most. Exhausted and Broken, she is determined to endure his ruthlessness as he bores hatred for her. But Lord Alejandro is different, he doesn’t care for her indifference, or the lack of emotion in her eyes. He wants her to talk if he commands it, to smile when he wants, and to laugh if he desires hearing one. What would happen in this game of slavery and indifference? Meandra, the princess who has lost her touch of affection, and the man who would make sure to bring it back to her face? What happens when she realizes that every action of him trying to make her bring back her colors is a vendetta that would cost her the one thing she’s badly clinging onto? Find out in this game of vengeance and desire.

Lailah wanted to laugh at her own fate for playing such a sick joke on her. At 10 her parents divorced and none wanted to take her so she stayed with her aunt. At 15 she got into an accident that almost took her life and her leg was paralyzed for a year and now at 20 she was kidnapped by a Mafia because she saw something she wasn't suppose to see. Two brothers fighting and ruining her and not once have they thought what she wanted. " You don't love him" he grumbled while glaring with so much anger in his eyes I never saw before as tears continued to fall down my cheeks. " I didn't want to" I replied meekly helpless at my own heart as my lips wobbled while I clenched on his shirt not wanting to breakdown infront of him. " I won't let him have you" his words held promise as determination shone in his dark orbs and he crashed his lips on mine as I struggle to push him but my strength was nothing compared to his. Lailah Marques, a 20 years florist trying to find happiness in everything she does until her simple life was disrupted by a huge disasters .

He smirked, knowing he was on the winning side. "So it's a done deal for three months?" He raised his eyebrows, putting his hand forth for a handshake. I looked at the long fingers and perfectly aligned nails and then at his patient face. Sighing to myself I my own hand into his and ignored the tingles that flowed through every nerve as his fingers curled around my hand and shook it lightly. "Yeah three months." "Goodnight then." He winked, removing his hand from mine and turned to walk away. "Hey wait!" I called out, suddenly remembering something. "You don't have my number." "What makes you think that? I have my ways Smith." And with one last wink I saw him take a turn and disappear from my sight. I let out a long breath, leaning on the nearby wall. Looks like I just made a deal with the Devil. * A sarcastic girl, a cocky guy. Throw in some mystery, murder, filthy jokes, wonderful friends, tons of kisses, secrets, surprises, eye-rolls and a killer on run. And you have got yourself a story never read before. ***So grab a cup of hot chocolate, some chips and a warm blanket and get ready to laugh, cry and bite your lip in anticipation. Enjoy!!

I was on vacation with my mother at our country vineyard when a message arrived from Ava, my husband's personal secretary. He was the new Don of the Falcone family. The photo showed a woman, bruised and naked, curled up on the floor of a cold cellar. It was followed by a voice message, her tone arrogant: "Helen, is this what you peasants do? Claw your way out of the mud just to leech off the Don?" "Don Lorenzo just acquired this estate, and you have the nerve to let your blind, ill-mannered mother wander in here to freeload? As the Don's personal secretary, it's my job to uphold the Falcone family's dignity." "This is the price for trespassing on the Don's estate!" I froze, my eyes lifting to the other side of the long table where my mother was sipping her red wine, perfectly safe. I zoomed in on the photo. The moment I saw the details, my heart seized. On a pale hand was a familiar ring. It was the heirloom the Falcone Madre never took off. I immediately dialed Ava's number. "Ava, are you insane? That's Lorenzo's mother!" A careless, almost flirtatious laugh came from the other end of the line. "The Don may consider you his property, but he never agreed to take in your dirt-poor family."

As I was about to leave my brother’s restaurant, the female manager stopped me. "Miss, excuse me, but you haven’t paid your bill." I looked at the unfamiliar face and thought that she was probably new and didn’t recognize me, so I explained politely, "Just put it on the owner’s tab. He knows me." The manager shot me a disdainful look. "Miss, this is a Michelin three-star restaurant. We don’t let just anyone run up a tab." She handed me a printed bill. I glanced at it. Fifty thousand dollars for one meal. Three thousand for tableware maintenance, five thousand for exclusive air purification, ten thousand for a VIP mood-calming service fee, and a bunch of other ridiculous charges. I didn’t even know my brother’s place was such a scam. I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. "I’m the owner’s sister. If there’s a problem, tell him to talk to me at home." But she just wouldn’t drop it. "If you can’t afford it, stop acting like you can. And don’t act like you know Mr. White, either." I fired off a quick text to my secretary. 【Tell my brother to either fire this manager or I’m pulling my investment.】

She didn't plan to get married that night. She just planned to forget his name. One betrayal, one bar and one terrible decision later. Zara Calloway wakes up with a wedding ring on her finger and a stranger named Cael Ashford making coffee in her kitchen. She needs the marriage to survive her stepfather's grip on her inheritance. Cael agrees to stay immediately, his eyes tell that he has never been surprised a day in his life. He hasn't. Because Cael Ashford does not do accidents. He does not do drunken chapels or convenient timing or women who knock drinks onto his jacket. He does plans. Long ones. Quiet ones. The kind that takes two years to execute and requires a wife from the inside. Zara was always the plan. The problem is that plans do not laugh with sincerity. They do not stay up until 2AM talking about their dead mothers and dreams. They do not make a man forget, even briefly, what he came for. And they are definitely not supposed to start looking like the only thing worth keeping. Some marriages are weapons. Some weapons miss their target and hit something worse: the truth.