Playing Dumb Synonym Novels & Stories

Mable Thorne is on her third life, and she’s done playing the victim. In Life One, she was betrayed. In Life Two, she was murdered. In Life Three, she’s coming for blood.She’s dating the pack’s most dangerous disaster—pro-hockey star Darin Salvator—to burn her ex’s reputation to the ground. Darin Salvator is on his fifth life, and he’s done playing the hero. He’s watched every version of his mate die across timelines he can’t escape. He’s numb, he’s scandalous, and he’s accepted that they are a doomed bloodline. Then Mable knocks on his door with a fake-dating contract and a scent that screams of a future he thought fate had stolen. But there’s a ghost between them—a memory of a child lost in a past life, and a lie that says Darin was the one who killed it. On the ice, they are a PR stunt. In the shadows, they are a war. And this time, fate is not just trying to kill them—it’s trying to erase them.

"Does it… does it feel good? Playing with another man's wife… on another man's bed… does it feel good…" Late at night, my naked sister-in-law lay sprawled on the bed, her round hips constantly pressing back as she let out moans that trembled with pleasure—the very picture of a woman thoroughly satisfied.

Actions take place in a world similar to ours. A kind girl took pity on an animal she didn't know was a werewolf and she took an adventure for herself. This triggered a chain of unforseen events that radically changed the fate of the heroes. Playing with the wolves can be extremely dangerous, but who knows what the gods who dominate their world have in store for the end.

After receiving the beating of my life, even after playing it safe when making all life decisions, I never would’ve thought the scales could be so out of balance until, that is, the night I met my lost family and how powerful I could actually be married to the most dangerous and feared man alive.

Business Tycoon, Nikolas Sica has never imagined himself playing the role of a father but a mysterious call inadvertently forces two miracles into his life; A son he had no idea existed and a woman he is damn sure he would never bang. Trouble is, The boy does share his DNA and he needs to know how.

My parents made Dana and me settle it with rock-paper-scissors. Loser had to marry the Baillieu heir—the so-called "freak." I won. Then flipped the script. "Cool. I'll take Blake. Dana can have the empire." Last time? I was dumb in love with Michael—Dad's adopted golden boy. Chose the company, stayed behind, and handed Dana off to Blake Baillieu. Big mistake. Six months in, Dana was gone—wrecked by that marriage. Right before she croaked, she texted Michael blaming me. Said I lost the game and ditched the deal, dumping Blake on her. Michael? Snapped. Dude went full psycho. Turns out, he and Dana had been sneaking around for years. He dragged me behind the Baillieu estate and forced a dozen intellectually disabled men to assault me. "If it weren't for your cruelty, Dana would still be alive! You'll pay for everything she suffered!" I was over eight months pregnant—almost due. Begged him to stop. Begged for my baby's life. He didn't care. Kept ordering them to take turns. Even when my water broke, he just watched. Both my baby and I died that night. Now? I'm back. And this time, I rewrote the story. Step one: marry Blake.

“Why do you suddenly want out of this marriage? Who the fuck are you screwing, you dumb bitch?!” “I'm not screw-” I tried to explain, but he was already on me and I screamed as he dragged me up by my neck, his hand so tight on my throat I couldn’t breathe. “Who is it?!” he growled. “Who the fuck would dare!” ---- In a world absent the mate bond, alliances were formed through blood, power, and betrayal rather than fate. Makena Blackwell was born into the mafia's lowest-ranking position, promised at birth to a powerful heir in exchange for her family's survival. She was ready to marry him. But he was ready to destroy her. On the night she was meant to die, however, something impossible happened. A man rose from the icy steel trays of her father’s morgue. He was a stranger, with no memory, no name, and no pulse. And when their gazes met, fate spoke the word they never expected to hear in their lifetime, echoing so loudly in their souls it shook the very fabric of their being. “Mate!” The man the world left for dead wasn’t just anyone; he was the dread every mafia house feared, and he was hers. She was promised to a prince of power… but fate gave her the king of the dead.

My girlfriend suddenly told me she had six small beads implanted inside her, blushing as she said it was meant to please me. The next day, I made soup and brought it to her office. To my surprise, I saw her in the arms of my good friend, Henry Somerset. Henry wrapped his arm around her waist, his voice deep. "Baby, you're such a good girl. You really did the implantation as I told. My dumb friend even thought you did it for him. Do you reckon he'll lose his mind if he finds out you and I are getting married soon?" My girlfriend's voice turned cold. "This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. I'm warning you not to let Chris find out." Henry chuckled and moved his hand downward. "Don't worry. As long as you keep me happy, I won't get Chris into trouble." After hearing all this behind the door, my entire body went cold. Clutching my phone tightly, I recalled my boss saying he would transfer me to a subsidiary company a few days ago. I no longer hesitated and sent him a text. [Boss, I'd like to be transferred to the subsidiary company in Hailborough City in three days.]

"Just join me for a drink perhaps?" Her bushy brows rose suggestively at me. She knew my answer, she knew what I'd say. I grabbed the bottle off her scrawny hands and said "You know, for a one time thing, this has become a regular." To be honest, I was actually looking forward to meeting up with her. Not that I was going to admit it to her face. "Like therapy sessions from two dumb, ill-favored kids. Who are trying to give each other easing words." She was right. Though her stumbled movements indicated a slight intoxication. Suddenly, out of the awkward moment, she looked up at me with a sad smile and said. "I might be a street girl but is it too bad to wish for a normal life? Go to proms? Have new clothes? Shelter? Love? Do I not deserve?" Her teary eyes searched deep into my soul. I was unaware of the lack of distance between us. When did we get so close with barely an inch barrier? "Flare..." that was all I could say because then all I could feel were soft lips against mine. Her lips! And it felt so nice. Subconsciously, I grabbed her little body and went for another kiss, this time, a deeper kiss.

He told me he wouldn't call. I told him he would. I was right. He pushed me away. I pushed back. He put a gun in my nightstand and a penthouse key in my palm and told me he'd burn the whole city down before he let anyone touch me. "You're playing a dangerous game,Gaby." "I've been playing a dangerous game since the night I sat down at your table." He's a killer. I knew that from the start. The silver hair. The steady hands. The way his body moves before his brain has time to catch up. He's possessive. Ruthless. Cold as the blade he used to carry-until he's not. Until his fingers are in my hair and his mouth is on my throat and every rule he's ever made about keeping people out goes up in smoke. "I can't promise you a future." "Then promise me tonight."