Pierced Ears Bleeding Novels & Stories

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda. For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone." He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you." They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table. The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer." His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow." This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation. A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset. After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight. I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door. Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?" Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over. "Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood." Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?" "It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?" Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times. In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me. And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

I gave out my special rat poison for free, trying to fix the complex's rat problem. And my neighbor Brenda turned right around and reported me. She demanded I pay out of pocket to have the rats disposed of humanely. I looked around at the neighbors. "I know a place that'll do it at cost," I said. "Extermination plus sanitizing runs about thirty grand. Split it across every unit and that's maybe twenty bucks a household—" Brenda cut me off before I could finish. "Nora, honey, you're the one who decided to trap those rats." "Why should everyone else foot the bill for that?" "And come on, it's a few hundred rats. You really need that kind of money?" "We're all neighbors here. Don't go shaking us down." I looked up at the neighbors, every one of them dodging my eyes. I couldn't help but smile. Fine. They all just want a free ride. Just don't come crying to me later.

Buried deep in the Aster estate was the Heartwood—ancient, sacred, mine. Told my husband, Julian Aster—back when he actually listened—that if it ever fell, I'd die with it. At first, he freaked out. Flew in glacier water, hired a whole squad of plant experts to nurture it 24/7. Then one day, just because his childhood friend—Isabella Duvall—got a scratch from the bark, Julian had the Heartwood ripped out. The second it crashed, I choked on glowing blood—ichor. My power? Gone. Barely standing, I grabbed his arm. "You knew. If the Heartwood dies, I—" He laughed. Straight-up mocked me. "Sera, come on. That fairy tale? Only Grandma still believes that crap. Is that mayo on your mouth? Relax—it's a tree. I'll buy you a forest if you want." Overnight, my hair turned gray. Skin cracked. Eyes dulled. Still, I dragged myself to his grandmother, Henrietta. "I kept your family safe for two hundred years. That's why the Asters thrived. But the Heartwood's gone. Debt's paid. One day left. Whatever happens next? Not my problem."

In the fifth year of being exiled to a deserted island in the international waters by Chelsea Herrera, I finally learn how to stay extremely humble. When Chelsea brings Derrick Carpenter, a university student she keeps, and a Doberman to the island just to pick me up, I get down on my knees as though it's the most natural thing to do in the world. Then, I wipe the sand off Derrick's shoes with my sleeve before bending over to use my back as their stepstool. "From now on, you're in charge of taking care of Ricky. He and Dobey are your family now." I nod with a small smile. After Chelsea has usurped my family's businesses and forced my parents to jump off a building, she chooses to abandon me on a deserted island so that I can learn to obey her commands. She has succeeded in everything she's done. By the time I finally get to return to the familiar villa, everything there has already changed. I wake up at 4:00 am every morning in order to prepare a nice breakfast for Dobey the Doberman. After that, I groom it properly. At 9:00 am, I've prepared the outfit Derrick will be wearing for the day. Then, I'll travel to a boxing gym so that I can serve as his human punching bag. At night, I prepare some alcohol and snacks while listening to Derrick and his friends laughing at me. They then proceed to discuss how to tame me, the formerly arrogant scion hailing from the ex-richest family in the elite society.

My ex-boyfriend, the Don's heir, was getting married today. In the grand reception hall, the bride, Elena, moved through the crowd with a champagne flute in hand, toasting the bosses and captains who'd flown in from across the island. In the dressing room, Luca had me pinned against the gown the bride had just changed out of, fucking me hard. The mirror gave me back a stranger, hair tangled, not a stitch of clothing left on me, my neck covered in marks he'd left like a signature. The camera on the side table blinked red. Three knocks at the door. Luca stood up, straightened the white rose boutonniere on his lapel, picked up the black earpiece from the table and pressed it in. He tossed it at me without looking. "One night. Half a million euros. Anna, you're even pricier than I remembered." I watched his back as he walked out, and picked up the check with shaking hands. Rosa, don't be scared. Mama's got the money to save you.

For the eighteenth time, Samson brought home his new lover and enjoyed their intimacy right in front of me. Knowing he was doing this to get back at me, I just quietly picked up their scattered clothes. Five years ago, Samson was nearly killed in a kidnapping. Ignoring all his desperate pleas, I broke up with him and left the country. Five years later, he became the CEO of a major corporation and used his wealth to keep me at his side as his personal assistant. Every so often, he would bring home a different woman and flaunt their affection in front of me just to humiliate me. Samson never knew that I had saved him from those kidnappers five years ago—and that I was the one who couldn't let go of him. Things went on this way until he brought Judy back. My cousin, someone I had financially supported for years. When Judy proudly stroked her belly and told me she was pregnant with Samson’s baby, I just congratulated her calmly. Then, I turned and made a phone call. “Hello, about that Medical Support Project we discussed? I’ve decided—I’m ready to join.”

In my last life, I loved my brother’s best friend longer than I loved myself. I was the princess of the De Luca family, a New York political dynasty. A good girl, through and through. He was Orion Corvo. The king of Chicago's underworld. A ruthless, brutal man. No one thought we belonged together. I never dared to confess. Not until I was kidnapped. That cold-blooded, savage Don took a bullet for me. He shielded me with his body as I bled out. We died together. Only then, seeing the desperation in his eyes, did I understand. He loved me too. Now, I'm back. 18 again. I ditched my life in Europe to stay by his side. For five years, I was his most trusted art appraiser. In private, he’d lose himself inside me. He fucked me like he wanted to own my soul. I became his favorite fuck. His biggest secret. But now, he’s getting married. And the bride isn't me.

My sister, Anna Hawkins, and I are twins, but I'm slightly heavier than her when we were born. Anna has always been weak and sickly since young, whereas I'm always active and healthy. When Anna was four years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Mom blamed me for stealing Anna's nutrients when I got born, so I needed to return the nutrients to her. When I got my blood extracted for the first time, a thick syringe was used on me. I was so scared when I saw it. Mom told me not to be scared. She gave me a magical pen, stating that whatever wish I wrote down with the pen would come true. I wrote, "It won't hurt." When the syringe was plunged into my arm again, Mom bought me a sweet lollipop. The pain never struck me again afterward. When I was five years old, I drew a strawberry cake on the paper while getting 1000cc blood withdrawn from me. That week, Anna could sit up in bed and play on her own. When I turned seven years old, I wrote down my wish that I'd like to go on a vacation. The next day, I was sent into the operating theater for the doctors to collect my hematopoietic cells. For the first time ever, Anna's cheeks became rosy. When I was eight years old, I wrote that I wanted to become the top student of my grade. But a day before my exams, my bone marrow was drawn from me. Anna finally got discharged by the hospital. She got to wear new dresses that I never got to wear. In the year I turn nine years old, my body is heavily depleted. With a trembling hand, I can only write down a line in messy handwriting. "I hope… that I won't become Mom's daughter in my next life."

For three years, we held a wedding in name only—my husband, Kit Rutgers, a pilot, canceled our marriage registration eighteen times. The first time, his female trainee, Katy Ferguson, had a test flight. I waited outside the county clerk’s office the whole day. The second time, he got a call from her mid-drive, made a sharp U-turn, and left me standing on the side of the road. After that, every time we planned to make it official, some crisis with Katy mysteriously arose. Eventually, I chose to walk away. But the moment I boarded a plane to Solara, he lost his mind—and chased me there.

I'd been married to my lawyer husband for eight years. In all that time, he never once acknowledged me as his wife in public. He wouldn't even let our daughter call him "Dad." Again and again, he missed out on her childhood because of his childhood sweetheart. Even when she hurt our daughter, he still forgave her. I was worn out and empty. So I decided to leave. I took our daughter and vanished from his world. But he refused the divorce. He started searching for us like a madman, turning the whole world upside down. Only this time, neither my daughter nor I will be looking back.