Restaurant Bubble Guppies Novels & Stories

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

Marabelle Daisy Graystone has spent twelve years in witness protection, living among humans as "Daisy Thompson" while hiding her true nature—she's a rare "diamond wolf," one of the Goddess's chosen born once per millennium. Working at her burger restaurant while secretly running a multi-billion-dollar empire as bestselling author Black Orchid and artist Silver Knight, she's built a perfect cover in human society. But when Kieran, her murdered father's former Beta, tracks her down seeking to claim her power, her carefully constructed life shatters. Rescued by Jackson Hunter, the brooding son of the powerful Moon Hunter Pack's Alpha, Marabelle discovers he's her fated mate—the very wolf she's been avoiding for years. She'd overheard Jackson tell his friends that if she turned out to be his mate, he would reject her, choosing duty over desire. When Jackson arrives to return a precious family heirloom, Marabelle braces for the rejection she believes is inevitable. Instead, he confesses his feelings have changed—that witnessing her courage made him realise duty and desire can align. As their mate bond awakens her suppressed abilities, Marabelle must reclaim her birthright as Alpha of the decimated Silvercrest Pack while navigating treacherous pack politics. When the Moon Goddess herself appears to bless their union, their relationship triggers supernatural consequences that reshape the werewolf world. But happiness attracts dangerous enemies. Alpha Thorne of the Western Reaches emerges from isolation, claiming that "untrained" diamond wolves pose a threat to all wolfkind. Together, they forge an unprecedented alliance of eleven packs, creating the first Wolf Council in three thousand years. Racing against ancient powers that would control or destroy her, Marabelle must demonstrate that her unconventional path represents the future of their kind, proving that strength comes not from isolation but from the courage to build bridges between worlds.

Lyra Cole has spent her life fighting to survive. Burdened with the hospital bills for her ailing mother. Her life has always been a delicate balancing act, working multiple jobs to care for her sick mother and younger brother while hiding her talent in digital art, a skill that could change her life if given a chance. But when her mother's condition suddenly deteriorates, she is faced with a staggering medical bill that she cannot possibly pay. Desperate and heartbroken, Lyra turns to her boyfriend, Steve, for help, only to find him betraying her in the cruelest way, shattering her trust completely. With no money, no support, and now unemployed after being unjustly fired from her restaurant job, Lyra feels the walls closing in. Her world seems to collapse until Alexander Dayn, a cold, calculating billionaire CEO, appears with an offer she cannot ignore. He can pay for her mother's treatment but only under one condition; she must enter a contract marriage with him. With no other options, Lyra reluctantly considers the agreement, unaware of the true complexities of Alexander’s world. As they explore a world of luxury, control, and dangerous power plays, Lyra discovers that Alexander's motives are far beyond getting married to her but linked to protecting her from external threats tied to his empire. Undeniable attraction, different personalities, clashing wills, and forced proximity push them into a tense, addictive relationship. Lyra's independence challenges Alexander's dominic, while his control and secrets test her resilience. Their bond is further tested when outside enemies target Lyra and long-buried secrets surface, forcing both to confront their fears, desires, and past mistakes. Eventually, Lyra's courage and talent give her leverage, while Alexander's growing love for her is more than obligation. Together they must choose each other selflessly.

“I should’ve known you weren’t as reckless as me,” he says quietly. “You’re Elliot’s little girl after all.” “I’m not a little girl,” I snap. “I’m twenty-five.” “And I’m almost twice your age, Natalie,” he says, almost like he’s giving up. “But that didn’t stop you from coming to me.” In a second, he has me pinned against the wall. His hands trails up the sides of my body. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. “I waited for you that night,” I whisper, my hand sliding up his chest. “I imagined us doing all the things you implied you’d do.” He groans softly, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through his chest. “Did you touch yourself?” he asks in a whisper, his eyes closed. My other hand moves lower, trailing down his body until I brush against the hard evidence of his desire. I feel his breath hitch, and I smirk, knowing what I’m doing to him. “Yeah, but it was your hands I was feeling.” On the brink of her second wedding anniversary, Natalie Jones uncovers a devastating betrayal—her husband, Michael Cooper, embraced passionately with his mistress. Confronting him in a dimly lit restaurant, Nat exposes his scheme to marry her for her father’s fortune and storms out, her heart shattered but her resolve unbroken. Ric Steward, on the other hand — billionaire and philanthropist — never expected his evening to ignite with scandal. When he sees Natalie—radiant, powerful, and on the edge of a breakdown—he’s immediately captivated. Their fiery, forbidden attraction is challenged when Ric learns she’s the daughter of a longtime friend. But that doesn’t stop Nat. It only makes her want Ric more…

I plan on ordering some food using my husband's phone, yet I've noticed a remark that's been saved on the delivery app. "The food is for a pregnant lady. Please make sure to be hygienic and use less oil and salt when making the dishes." I can feel my heart sink. I turn my gaze toward the bathroom, where my husband is. I can't figure out why my husband, who's been firm about not wanting a child, has been ordering meals for pregnant women. After a moment of hesitation, I scroll through the delivery app's order history with shaky hands. Numerous orders have been placed with the same restaurant, one that specializes in making exquisite dishes designed for pregnant women. Each of these food orders costs more than ten thousand dollars. My husband's company address has been chosen as the delivery address, and he's also the recipient. … After exiting the delivery app, I sit on the couch and stare into space. As I look at my husband's well-defined muscles, I recall how he, who's about to hit 40, is suddenly quite invested in getting in shape over the past year. I blurt out asking, "Have you been ordering food to your office often lately?" My husband freezes for a split second. Then, he fixes me with a gentle gaze. "I do that once in a while. Why are you suddenly asking about that? By the way, I haven't had the sweet and sour meatballs you make in a long while. Can you make some for me so that I can bring them to the office for my lunch tomorrow?" I smile at him and agree to his request. Still, I toss and turn in bed as the remark about the pregnant lady in his phone keeps gnawing at me that night.

"Help me tighten this?" Her voice trembles as she turns her bare back to the doorway. Calloused fingers brush her spine – but it’s not her stepmother. It’s Asher Voss, SU’s star quarterback and her new stepbrother, smirking in the mirror， "Next time you mistake me for Mom..." His breath scorches her ear. "...I’ll leave a real mark." To survive the sweltering New York summer before college, Wendy Wu makes a deal with Asher: Act like strangers once school starts. He’ll remain the untouchable quarterback; she’ll be just another exchange student. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Ever. But when her father’s long hauls and her stepmother’s busy schedule force Asher into babysitting duty, the lines blur: In the kitchen, he catches her weeping over a shelter documentary and lifts her against his sweat-drenched chest. Garage doors rattle open – his grip tightens: "Hold on. Unless you want them to see you like this." At a party, her friend spots a cherry hair tie on his wrist before he drags her into a dark hallway: "You didn’t want to see me?" His whiskey-laced kiss brands her lips. "Yet your eyes undressed me all night." In a restaurant, a rival girl glares through the window. He traps Wendy’s thigh under the table， "Call me ‘brother’ and I’ll save you."  Their secret collapses. Wendy ends it, and he freezes her out in public， "Do I know you?" Until a rain-lashed night when Ahser, drenched and desperate, pins her to the wall， "Don’t tell me you do not regret the breakup" His teeth find her collarbone. "I have to admit it-- I miss you." Can a love forged in stolen touches survive the spotlight? Or will their step-sibling bond shatter them both?

My partner, Derek Crawford, calls himself a traditional man. On our tenth anniversary, I bought him a pair of his favorite AJ sneakers. Instead, he gifted me a bag of pastries. "Your cake is extremely tiny, and yet it costs you a few dozen dollars! Look at the pastries I got you—not only are they cheap, but they are also huge in quantity! Now this is what I call worth it!" After that, Derek tells me that he'll make it up to me by throwing an engagement party. He has also invited my parents and my relatives to the party. With anticipation brimming in our eyes, we arrive at the restaurant, only to see Derek serving us with store-bought pickles and dinner rolls. "I'm a traditional man, you see. I'm not used to fancy food and foreign cuisines. This, right here, is the basics of a traditional dinner. You don't see patriotic men like me nowadays!" My relatives' expressions change drastically on the spot. Meanwhile, my parents look very mortified. I can only smile awkwardly at them while doing everything I can to stop them from leaving. But as soon as I leave the hotel, I receive a notification from the bank that 200 thousand dollars have been deducted from my account via a supplementary card linked to it. At the same time, Derek's childhood sweetheart, Renee Young, posts a photo of her 12-layered luxurious cake on her social media account. "When I told Derek that I wanted to celebrate my birthday, not only did he buy me the most expensive strawberry cake, but he also reserved a dozen or so tables that are served with the grandest feast! "If your man loves you that much, he won't need any lessons in pampering you! Traditional men definitely know how to love and pamper their queens!" I tighten my grip on my phone. As I look back at Derek, who keeps claiming that he's a traditional man stuck to his traditional ways, I suddenly find it exhausting to continue being in a relationship with him.

On Valentine's Day, I paid in full for a sports car and gave it to my wife as a gift. But when my wife arrived at the private dining restaurant, she brought her parents—and her childhood sweetheart—along with her. The moment my mother-in-law saw it, she slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal? "Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?" Embarrassed, I tried to explain that this was simply a token of my love for Megan. My father-in-law, however, kept a stern face. "No matter how expensive the car is, it's still going to get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as useful as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. "Oh, right. I heard the salesperson who sold you the car was introduced by Brandon. How exactly are you planning to repay that favor? No matter how busy you are with work, you can't just push everything onto Brandon to handle for you." I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. So that was what this was really about. They were still holding a grudge because a week ago, when my father-in-law had twisted his back, I hadn't gone to the hospital to visit him. But at the time, I had been busy cleaning up the mess Brandon Hayes had caused for the company. I'd even kept him out of prison. Yet, instead of gratitude, they were turning the blame on me. After a long silence, my wife finally looked at me. "Tyler, transfer ten percent of the company's shares to Brandon as repayment." "And if I don't?" My father-in-law barked angrily, "Then I'll have Megan divorce you!" I laughed. Then I calmly pulled a divorce agreement from my pocket and placed it on the table. "Go ahead," I said. "Sign it."

My husband's adopted younger sister, Shannon Carter, is a food vlogger. When she was recording a video at a restaurant, not only did she demand the customers stay silent, but she also impersonated me when she began insulting everyone else. "Shut up, you poor freaks! Especially you, kid! I'm Rina, a YouTuber with over tens of millions of fans! One of my live streams alone earns me more than whatever you can earn in a lifetime! Can you even pay me enough to compensate me for the disturbance you've caused me?" In my previous life, Shannon told me that she wanted to become a YouTuber as well, so she borrowed my smurf account from me and tried exploring restaurants on her own. But she impersonated me right away and lashed out at the family sitting at the next table just because they were laughing a little too loudly. In the heat of the moment, she even got into a physical brawl with them. As a result, Shannon shoved the little girl down the stairs, causing the latter to crash her head. That poor girl ended up suffering from permanent blindness. Shannon tossed 5,000 dollars in the ER arrogantly. "Impoverished bastards like that girl will only grow up as drug addicts or prostitutes. So what if she goes blind? She has no future anyway!" The girl's family couldn't take it anymore. They rallied their entire clan and came to my company. There, they had me completely surrounded. "That Rina influencer is right here! She's the one who caused my daughter to go blind!" In the end, the family pushed me down the stairs. Since that wasn't enough for them, they vented their anger on me by hacking me to death with their weapons. As for Shannon, not only did she inherit my YouTube account, but she also married Mark Tanner, my husband. Every day, she got to spend my assets as much as she wanted. Only then did I finally realize that this was their scheme all along.

When I'm done putting my daughter, Alani Carter, to sleep, I suddenly come across a social media post. "My husband, who's always been uncaring about the household matters, suddenly decides to be more engaging and helpful recently. What's the reason behind his change in behavior?" The comments in that comment section cut to the chase immediately. "Oh, there's no doubt about the answer. Either he's having an affair behind your back, or he wants your money." As soon as I leave a like on the answer, my husband, Michael Carter, who has never cared about Alani before, suddenly asks me, "What sort of homework does Alani have today?" That's when I notice the parents' group chat on my phone, where Demi Miller's mother, Yvette Miller, has tagged Michael there abruptly. "Mr. Carter, what's tonight's homework?" He has responded to her immediately, "Give me a moment. I'll send you the list later." I glance at the time. It's already 10:30 pm. We've been married for so many years, and yet Michael has never responded to any of my WhatsApp messages on time before. I secretly tap on Yvette's profile picture, only to find out that her social media feed is filled with coincidental meetings with Michael. Apparently, she has met him coincidentally at the amusement park, at a bookstore, and even at a family restaurant the three of us have frequented. When I pick Alani up from the kindergarten in the next evening, I happen to overhear Yvette telling another parent, "Alani's dad sure has a heart of gold! He even helps me take care of Demi! "Whenever I ask him questions regarding Demi, he's able to answer me on the spot. Parents who care this much about children are a rarity these days!" I continue the topic smilingly, "Isn't that right? Michael has never attended a single parent-child meeting related to his own daughter, and yet he's quite skilled in helping others raise their children." After that, I find myself a secluded corner, where I dial my lawyer's phone number immediately. "Have you prepared the divorce contract? I want him to leave this marriage without a single cent to his name!"