Photo Negative Mickey Novels & Stories

I was the eldest daughter of the Shadow Wolves pack. Anyone who married me would gain the full support of Shadow Wolves. Every wolf in the pack knew that Ryan Trivett and I had grown up together, practically destined for each other. I'd been infatuated with him for as long as I could remember. In this life, though, I didn't choose Ryan. Instead, I ended up with his uncle, Lucas Trivett. Why? Because in my previous life, I had been married to Ryan for five years, and he had never touched me. I used to think he had his reasons—some secret burden he couldn't share. But one day, I accidentally stumbled into the hidden chamber behind our bedroom. There, I saw him pleasuring himself to a photo of my cousin. That was the moment I realized the truth. He never loved me. He had only ever used me. Now, with this second chance at life, I had decided to let them have each other. But when I walked down the aisle in my wedding dress toward Lucas, Ryan completely lost it.

“Marry me. Put this thing on tomorrow. You are going to tell the press that Bella cheated on me and we started dating, when Bella found out she tried to separate us and when she could not she blackmailed you to upload this photo. This will make me hate you, but we have already reconciled,” he explained. What the hell? How did I get myself into this sought of mess? **** Laura finds herself in a great dilemma when her mother is kidnapped. They ask her to post the photo of Eric Sloan the son of a multi-billionaire together with Damien Avery, the son of the prime minister and she should tag them as gay. To keep her mother alive she reluctantly posts it drawing the attention of the arrogant billionaire together with his powerful family and fans. To rectify her mistakes he asks her to marry him, thereby waving off the allegation of him being gay. He promises himself to make it his life mission to destroy her for what she did. As the truth unfolds, what started as a revenge turns into a dangerous obsession and all he wants to do is to protect her, to claim her, own her, and keep her within his dark abyss.

My parents died when I was ten, and I became an orphan. Darius Rossi, a mafia don, found me and took me out of the beggars' den. He wrapped me in designer clothes and raised me like a prized possession. Everyone said I would grow up to be his wife, that I was the treasure he kept close to his heart. Then came my birthday party. After a night of wild passion, he handed me a photo of his rival, Valerio Warren. He said, "Monica Arden, I've taken care of you for ten years. Now it's time for you to repay me. I'm arranging a marriage alliance with the Costa family. This is the guy Gina Costa has been crushing on, and I need you to seduce him and create an opening for me. I want her to marry me willingly." That was when I finally understood that I was never his treasure. I was just the most disposable piece on his chessboard. I followed his orders and pursued Valerio, doing exactly as he commanded. Yet, on the wedding day, Darius lost his mind when Valerio slipped the diamond ring onto my finger.

My husband, Don Axel Thorne, died protecting me in a mob war. I was his widow for six years, until I turned thirty. The old guard of the Family told me it was time to move on. My friends told me to let him go. Even in my dreams, his bloody hands would cup my face, begging me to live again. So I agreed to an arranged marriage. But first, I went to his grave for one last goodbye. I’d just left the cemetery when a post appeared in my feed. [Thanks, hubby, for the six-year anniversary gift! A fifty-million-dollar penthouse in Miami!] My blood ran cold. My hands shook. The phone nearly slipped from my grip. In the photo, the man I buried six years ago was slipping a massive diamond onto another woman's finger. The background was a lavish penthouse. His style. I put my people on it. We had the location in minutes. Drove straight there. I knocked, the door opened, and I froze. The woman standing there was Seraphina. His adoptive sister. The one the Family exiled six years ago for her obsession with him.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, my father’s brother-in-arms pushed photos of his daughters in front of me and told me to choose a fiancee. Without hesitation, I picked the photo of the eldest daughter, Yvonne Shaw. Everyone around me stared in shock. They all knew that I was deeply in love with the second daughter, Natalie Shaw. In my previous life, I had chased after Natalie for ten years before finally marrying her. Through our marriage, she became the heiress of the Shaw family. But three years after we got married, she became pregnant with my brother’s child. Our parents were furious. They forced her to get an abortion and sent my brother away. From then on, Natalie hated me to the core. Every night, she would bring home men who looked like my brother and spend the night with them. The constant torment wore me down, and I eventually fell gravely ill and died a miserable death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that night when I had to choose a fiancee. This time, I chose to let them be together. But what I did not expect was that Natalie had been reborn too.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Late one night, I was scrolling through social media and stumbled upon a trending post. "Does your husband ever say you're obsessed with your brother?" One comment sat at the top with thousands of likes. The profile picture showed a cartoon girl covering her mouth, laughing. "Oh, I can answer this one! My husband used to say that too, but here's the thing: he's actually the son I had when I was 19!" Every word oozed with smug satisfaction. Some commenters tore into her, calling her manipulative and her husband a total sucker. She only got bolder. She posted a screenshot of a bank transfer with the details blurred out, right next to a photo of limited-edition sneakers. "All my son had to say was he liked them, and my husband caved! Then he gave him extra cash for a fancy dinner!” "A guy like this? If I don't milk him, who will?" I stared at the sneakers and the transfer amount. They matched exactly what I had bought for my "brother-in-law" that afternoon and the money I had just sent him. Down to the last cent. Ice shot through my veins. That sucker she was bragging about? That was me.

On our third year wedding anniversary, Ricardo Gambino finds me in the estate located far beyond the city's boundaries. As he clutches a pregnancy report, he finds it difficult to suppress the smile on his face. "I have good news for you, Isabella!" Ricardo exclaims excitedly. "Lucia is pregnant! It so happens that you're infertile, we'll have her give birth to the baby, and you can raise them! After that, I'll make sure to send Lucia away. You, on the other hand, shall remain as my wife!" Ricardo's tone is starting to drift. He sounds like he's done something amazing for me and wants me to compliment him. But I merely look at him as though he were a jester. What Ricardo doesn't know is that he's the infertile one. Also, we've already gotten divorced from each other. At that moment, I receive a new text on my phone. Then, I see a photo of an ultrasound report regarding the first trimester of a pregnancy. "Isabella, we're having triplets." The next text pops up immediately. "I shall marry you in three days."

When my CEO wife, Nina Wynn, learned I voluntarily handed a multimillion-dollar project to her favorite assistant, Zach Channing, she thought her three-month cold treatment finally worked. Beaming, she suddenly suggested we fly to Ivesland for our long-delayed honeymoon. When Zach found out, he became jealous and threatened to quit. Panicked, she spent three days and nights comforting him, then canceled our honeymoon again with the excuse of a business trip, giving him my ticket instead. Later, she casually explained to me, "Romance is trivial. Work comes first. As the boss, I have to prioritize. You’re my husband; you should understand." I looked at Zach’s latest social post, which was a photo of the two of them leaning intimately with their hands forming a heart, and said nothing. I only nod. Thinking I’d become more thoughtful and obedient, she was pleased. She even promised to make it up to me with a more romantic honeymoon when they got back home. However, unbeknownst to her, I’d already resigned. The divorce papers were already signed, and there was no future for us ever again.

My mom, Gina Lowry, uses the six million dollars from selling our family hotel to buy my cousin, Harry Sullivan, a villa. The next day, my fiancé of five years, Charles Gomez, dumps me. "Vivian, this is the end for us," Charles says, sitting in the café of a five-star hotel. His tone is so matter-of-fact that it sounds as if he's merely discussing a business deal. The engagement ring in my hand suddenly feels burning hot. I ask, "Why? Our wedding is next month." He stirs his coffee casually and replies, "Your family is known for favoring sons above all else. I looked into it. Your parents sold off the family business and gave all the assets to your cousin, Harry." A chill runs through my whole body as I argue, "That was my parents' decision. It has nothing to do with me!" "Does it really have nothing to do with you?" Charles looks up, his gaze sharp. "You're a daughter of the Sullivan family. In the future, you'll have to keep supporting your useless cousin endlessly. My family won't have any part in such an unreasonable practice. It's simply too embarrassing." In a trembling voice, I plead, "Charles, we've been together for five years. Is what we have less than these worldly considerations?" He lets out a light scoff. "What we have? Vivian, you're 28. How are you still this naive? In our circle, marriage is never just about two people." He stands up and adjusts the cuff of his custom suit. "I hope you find someone more suitable for you." I watch his resolute back as he walks away. Biting my lip hard, I refuse to let the tears fall. My phone chimes as a message from my mom comes in. In the photo, Harry is standing in front of a luxury villa with his arm around the influencer girlfriend he's been dating for three months. He is smiling smugly, like he's at the top of the world. Mom sounds overjoyed in her voice message. "Vivian, look how grand Harry's new home is! Now, he won't have to worry about his marital home when he gets married!" I stare at the photo and laugh through my tears. The moment I leave the family group chat and block all my relatives, my fingertips feel ice-cold. I sneer inwardly, "Since a daughter can never compare to a son in your hearts, then from now on, that precious nephew of yours will be your only family. When he drives you out of the villa bought with your entire savings, I wonder if you'll remember the daughter you abandoned today."