Pocket Disney Princesses Novels & Stories

A villain is just a victim whose story hasn't been told… And evil queens are the princesses that were never saved… She had the typical cliché story. The queen bitch in her school ruled over her peers while she dated the quarterback from the football team. A newbie good girl entered the picture and changed everything. After bunch of heartbreaks, stupid pranks, teenage jealousy and stuff, the quarterback fell for the new girl and everyone called it a happy ending. But it wasn't so happy for our girl. Because she wasn’t the good girl. She was the bad one. She was the rich and bitchy queen bee. When high school ended with her boyfriend of more than three years who was now her ex, vowing to keep some other girl happy forever, our girl lost it. So she let life take her wherever it desired. What she didn't know was that such recklessness will lead her directly to the most feared mafia boss of all times! How could she have guessed that going to a popular club with a fake ID and boldly dancing on top of a table will catch the eye of some dangerous people? And how could she have known that it'll also get her into some serious trouble when suddenly, gunshots are being fired all around her? Leaving a young super drunk girl alone in the night after she had witnessed him shooting a dozen of enemies was something the mafia leader couldn't do. That's why he took her with him...

My mother has volunteered at our neighborhood church for over a decade. Christmas drives, Sunday service, any neighbor in trouble, she's the first one there. Everyone says God sent her to us. She thinks so too. She says God wants her to be generous, so she is. The thing is, when no one's watching, the generosity always comes out of my pocket. After she remarried, she doted on my half-sister Serena. Serena picked up a box of cold medicine for her, and Mom handed Serena the keys to my Tesla. Serena mentioned she needed to renew her car insurance, and Mom wired her the surgery fund I'd been saving for two years for my daughter Emma. That afternoon, Emma collapsed on the floor, lips turning blue, gasping for air. Her medicine was crushed into the carpet. Mom fished the last pill out of her pocket and dangled it in front of me. "Apologize to your sister, and I'll give Emma the pill." I got on my knees. But that same day, she gave away the cardiology appointment I'd spent three months getting. She gave it to Serena. What she didn't know was that the name on the appointment was her own.

Dominic Langdon, a gang boss, is about to host his birthday banquet soon. He specifically tells everyone that he wants bluefin tuna and premium abalone as the grandest dish in his banquet. That seafood comes to a total of 80 thousand dollars. But my uncle, Steve Cutterson, gives me 800 dollars and tells me to carry out the task. I head toward the garbage dump of the farmers' market immediately. Soon, I return with a cartload of canned sardines and crayfish. After calculating the transportation costs, it comes to a total of 800 dollars. When the cheap-looking seafood is served, Dominic is so pissed that he flips the table on the spot. "How dare you pocket my money! You must have a death wish!" Steve quickly makes me the scapegoat. "Mr. Langdon, Caleb is the one who bought the seafood! He must have embezzled your money! Caleb, you'd better grovel to Mr. Langdon and pay him back right now!" I just show everyone the magnified version of the transfer record of 800 dollars with a stony expression. "Take a good look, Uncle Steve. Do you really think you can afford bluefin tuna with just 800 dollars? Did Mr. Langdon give you the money purely out of charity purposes?"

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

He’s a single dad with a leather vest and a whole world of secrets. She’s a second-grade teacher who’s about to break all the rules. Deacon "Grim" Miller, the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Ravens MC, has only ever lived by two codes: the one for his club and the one for his daughter, Lily. He’s a man built for battle, a survivor in a world of ruthless rivalries. But at home, he’s just a father trying to give his little girl a normal life… a life she can't have because of the trauma of his past. Amelia Vance is a woman who values order, routine, and safety above all else. When she notices Lily is struggling, she’s determined to help, but the last thing she expects is to meet the child's father… a man whose presence feels like a storm she should run from. Their two worlds should never collide. He’s a danger to her well-ordered life. She’s a threat to the secrets he guards. But when a fire drill triggers Lily's deep-seated trauma and a rival gang's patch shows up in the child's pocket, Deacon is left with a choice: push Amelia away or let her in, risking everything he holds dear. To save the child they both love, they'll have to face the truth and a danger that might tear them apart forever.

I help my students gain admission to top state art academies, yet my boss, Sebastian Emerson, withholds every cent of the pay I earned from 24 consecutive days of overtime. When I confront him in anger, he accuses me of stealing 120 thousand dollars in training fees from the students. "Honestly, being poor is no excuse for being shady. And having disabled parents doesn't give you the right to steal. "You've got two days to pay it back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you spend a few nights in jail, and I'll even inform your parents!" When a student calls, he snatches the phone and starts screaming, "There's no money! All your tuition went into buying your art supplies! If you've got a problem, go ahead and sue me, brat!" Meanwhile, Jayla Buckley, who is curled up in his arms, keeps placing order after order of Chaennal haute couture without the slightest hesitation. Watching the two of them colluding so shamelessly, I grip my attorney license in my pocket until my knuckles ache. Take it to court? Litigation? That's my arena. And I'll make sure both of them end up exactly where they belong—behind bars.

I had funded Tilly Jenkins for five years—and spent those same five years chasing after her. Just when I thought I had finally won her heart—when I believed she was ready to spend her life with me—I discovered the truth: the one she had loved all along was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who had grown up by her side. I, on the other hand, to her, was nothing more than a privileged elite who used money to grind her pride into the dirt. A few years into our marriage, she secretly transferred my assets away—and even had a child with that childhood sweetheart of hers. In the end, I died filled with resentment, trapped in a raging fire. The flames reflected the sight of the three of them together, smiling like a perfect family, while I cried myself to death in despair. After I was reborn, Tilly's childhood sweetheart shoved me hard, sneering with open contempt. "What do you take us for? Toys for rich people like you?!" I slipped my bank card back into my pocket at once. "Sorry, having money doesn't mean I'm brain-dead. I'm not interested in trashy toys like that."

They sold me to the Dungeon to save themselves. My own family — my brother Caleb, my mother Anya — fed me to the system like I was nothing. A sacrifice. A liability. The last thing I remembered before the darkness swallowed me whole was the relief on their faces. But I didn't die. I came back. And I came back wrong. Welcome to the ARG — where pocket dimensions bleed into the real world, and only the strong survive. Every player gets a starting ability, gear, a guild, a fighting chance. Every player except me. No ability. No gear. No guild. Just Kiera Vance, standing in a room full of veteran wolves who think I'm dead weight — and one sharp-eyed Alpha named Liam Reed who isn't quite sure what I am. Smart man. They'll call me weak. They'll call me a Luna with no bite. They'll call me crazy. They're only right about the last one. I clawed my way to the top once. I'll do it again — but this time, I won't stop until I've burned the whole system down. My name is Kiera Vance. I was the most feared player in the game. And my Alpha? He's a lunatic. Almost as bad as me.

On my mother’s seventieth birthday party, I ran around handling various matters, paying out of pocket and putting in all the work. I did not even have the time to sit down and drink a sip of water. When I finally found the time to surprise her, I prepared eighty-eight grams of gold jewelry as her gift. Just as I was about to give it to her, I heard her talking to the other relatives. “See that? My daughter is truly my sweetheart. She woke up so early this morning to bake me this cake. I wouldn’t trade this cake for gold.” Our relatives immediately began praising my younger sister, Jessie Radley, for being so devoted. Only a couple of them pushed back. “Why aren’t you praising your eldest daughter, Mary? I heard she handled the entire birthday party.” “Tch. She only knows how to muddle through things. None of it had been done to my liking. Jessie is the good one. She got up at seven in the morning just to bake me this cake.” I turned around and walked away from the doorway. Since she loved Jessie so much, she could pay for this birthday party, worth eighty thousand dollars.

"Sign here, I have the divorce papers." Areiza Kensley had just walked in the door when Darren Venzor, her husband, handed her the divorce papers. Areiza felt an unbearable pain in her heart. Still, she tried her best to keep a straight face. She didn't want to look weak in front of this man... Areiza quickly took the paper and fished the pen out of her pocket, but Darren snatched it away. He frowned, "Aren't you going to read the agreement?" Areiza pursed her lips and replied, "No need, I know you must have everything ready for me even if I don't need it." Darren nodded. "That's right, this house is yours as well, including your mother's medical bills, which I'll continue to pay in the future, and I'll make sure you live without any burdens." How thoughtful, Areiza thought sarcastically. She grabbed the paper again and signed it forcefully. Areiza thought that once she signed the divorce papers, she would be able to start her new life without the man Darren Venzor interfering in her life... However... Did Areiza and Darren really go their separate ways after the divorce or... There is something waiting for her...