Rosalina Crying Novels & Stories

[Free pass for letting Bianca hurt Jenna: 1 remaining.] That was the pinned memo in the phone of Dylan Nelson, my fiance. We had been together for five years. Bianca Shelly was his mentor’s daughter. He had quantified every slight Jenna suffered into a spendable allowance. Three days into our silent standoff, he took my engagement ring from the nightstand. I tried to stop him. “That ring was registered in my name for life.” He checked the note on his phone. His voice turned cold. “Bianca got rejected by the guy she was set up with. She’s been crying all day. She’s just borrowing it for a photo. Stop making this difficult.” An hour later, I received an alteration alert from the jeweler’s app. [Original recipient: Jenna Vogel. Recipient changed to: Bianca Shelly. Ownership status: Finalized and irreversible.] I finally recalled the small print at the bottom of his note. [If Jenna ends the relationship first, all free passes will automatically reset.] From the beginning, he had planned to sacrifice me over and over again. It was not that he did not understand what the ring meant. He was simply certain that I would never muster up the courage to leave him. That evening, Dylan texted to ask whether I was done being angry. I did not reply. I simply changed his contact name from “Babe” back to “Dylan Nelson”. I thought. “Dylan, that was your last free pass. This time, there will be no reset.”

My fated mate shut me out of our bond for the ninety-ninth time just as the last spark of dragonfire inside me began to die. I walked into the Oath Hall of Obsidian Keep alone. Black stone stretched beneath my feet, cold enough to bite through my slippers, and every step made the cracked channels around my dragon core grind deeper into my chest. “I’m here to renounce the Obsidian Court and dissolve my life-bond with the Dragon Lord.” The clerk took in my bloodless face and lowered his voice. “Lady Ashton, once I set the seal, the Court will no longer be required to protect you. Are you certain?” My dragonfire had been unstable since birth, leaving me weaker than most dragonkin. When I was ten, my father adopted Cecilia. She had a gift for explaining every disaster in the gentlest possible voice until everyone believed I was the jealous sister who couldn’t stand to share. My parents hadn’t always been unloving. They had simply forgotten how to tell the difference between the daughter who was crying and the daughter who was lying. Cassian and I had been fated for years, yet he had never crowned me his Dragon Queen. He rarely took me to Court gatherings. Most of Obsidian Keep didn’t even know I was his mate. “That’s all right.” I swallowed the taste of blood and kept my voice steady. “I’ll be dead in three days.”

The first thing I did when I woke up in this life? I called my underboss and ordered fifty crates of the new Colt revolvers delivered to the estate. Let me rewind. In my past life, my stepmother Veronica and my fiancé Marco were sleeping together. She got pregnant with his bastard. To keep my father, Don Salvatore, from finding out, she deliberately sabotaged a family weapons deal. She let a rival crew intercept the shipment and used the chaos to lose the baby. Then she came home crying to the Don. "It's all Irene's fault. She was too greedy, too reckless. She insisted on that unsafe sea route. I was ambushed, I lost the child... our heir..." I tried to defend myself. But Marco stepped up and pointed right at me. "Irene Moretti, I am beyond disappointed in you. You've always been reckless, never caring who gets caught in the crossfire. But this, making your own mother miscarry just to chase a win? That's monstrous. I'm done with you. The engagement is over." My father lost it. In front of the entire family, he lashed me with a whip, a dozen strokes. Afterward, Veronica sweet‑talked him into shipping me off to marry into our rival family. They locked me in their basement and tortured me until I died. Only after death did I learn the truth: Marco was Veronica's lover all along. He only agreed to marry me so they'd have cover to meet in plain sight. Now I open my eyes. And I'm back. The very day Veronica "lost" her baby. Not this time, sweetheart. Not. This. Time.

Lucy Chaw, being a villain in someone else's story, was a true victim in her own. Born and raised in a strict, rich family that demanded nothing less than perfection, had drove her to be the mean girl, the bully. she lived her life being the spoiled rich girl that bullied anyone who had what they wanted to have in life. But things went too far when she almost got fired and suspended for a month without pay for messing with an old class mate who worked in the Davis Company. That day, she was met with a threat from her family. either get things together, or marry someone they choose for her because she was just useless. she tried to do her best at work and keep her head down. but all her effort was in vain as her family forced her to Marry for the sake of their name. she was given a choice. Marry Karl Thompson for the Chaw name or cut all ties with her family. in hopes of getting her freedom and getting into her dream as a fashion designer, she married the man her family chose for her. but Lucy soon realized that life was not going to be easy, as she was married to the coldest man on earth. Karl Thompson isn't just a billionaire that comes from a long line of family that has made name for themselves in the fashion industry, He was also the same reason she will be crying herself to sleep. Karl was a cold nightmare she never prepared herself for. He is the biggest billionaire bully to ever live. *** Book two of my work place romance book. It follows My Sweet Boss And I, available on this platform. It can be read as a stand alone.

"What is your name?" He asked. "Nyx." "Nyx what?" "Nyx Evander." "Good." He hummed, "I am going to reject you." He said and I felt a stabbing pain in my chest. I wanted to beg him not to, to tell him that I will do anything for him not to reject me. "And you are going to accept my rejection and forget about me, we can never be together! I am an Alpha King, I do not need a mate like you." I cried more as his words rolled off his tongue, "Stop your crying, it is fucking irritating!" He said and I sobbed. "You are going to leave after the rejection and never set foot within my territory again, mutt!" He warned, "Is that clear?" I nodded at him and watched him do what I feared the most. "I, Lycus Dardanos." He began, "Alpha King of the werewolf community, the next in command after the wolf's council and the Alpha of Blackmoon pack reject you Nyx E…" He never got to finish his words as a blinding white light suddenly shone through the room followed with a harsh gush of wind that threw me back against the wall. ****** Lycus Dardanos, The Alpha King had always wanted a mate but she wasn't what he was expecting when he first saw her, he wasn't expecting her to be what he hated the most, a weak rogue omega with a child and also she was the abominable and cursed silver wolf. As far as he was concerned they were of the untrustworthy kind and he wasn't going to have anything to do with them, the only thing on his mind was rejection but the moon goddess had other plans and the power of the mate bond is quite irresistible.

~ SORA HELL MORGATHOR ~ Since my appointment to the throne, my cousin on paper has fully embraced the role of archnemesis, dedicating every breath to my downfall. He is a walking tantrum in a tailored suit, still crying about a crown that was never going to fit his head anyway. My life wasn’t perfect, but ever since I was adopted into the Hell Morgathor family, staying alive has become a full-time hobby, mostly because every move I make is now at the mercy of men who treat human lives like disposable currency. It’s nice to know I’ve brought the city together; apparently, having me in charge is the only thing everyone can agree is a terrible idea. My cousin on paper views me as the ultimate gatekeeper, Largely thanks to the fact that I have the audacity to keep breathing while he wants my chair, treating my pulse like a personal insult to his resume. ☠️☠️☠️☠️ ~A-JUN HELL MORGATHOR ~ All I want is my family to stop being a shadow. A woman carries the family name, whereas my father is subjected to being the underboss. As if things aren’t bad enough, an adopted female child is coded to be the next Don, and she had the guts to accept the offer. I was fully prepared to end her life, but I was suddenly struck by lightning, or maybe it was just her impeccable skincare routine, and I decided to let it slide, distracted by her face and forgot why I was even holding a weapon. I'm currently temporarily blinded by her sheer audacity to be that gorgeous while I’m trying to work. But until when will I be distracted?

Samantha is tall black wolf with white paws next in line to be Alpha of her pack. Thomas is a vampire with brown hair who's next in line to be heir to the coven. What happens when these two misguides souls meet. Sam was sitting on the fountain, tired of her mom bossing her around like she had to set the right example for the pack as the next heir. She found a rock and threw it hard without paying attention to where she threw it. Thomas was walking away from the coven he grew up in; he didn't want anything to do with this life anymore and live on his own. Kim was the only vampire he wanted and now she's dead and he was being forced to marry the daughter of the coven leader his family was at war with to create a peace treaty. He still remembered that day when the coven came back from the recent battle and she wasn't there and he waited for days, refusing to eat. Then by sunset on the fifth day since the battle, he was told that she died bravely in battle defending the coven. Thomas started crying at the memory as fresh grief racked him when he was hit with a rock. He looked around and saw that he came farther than he intended, almost into the werewolf territory like his feet were leading him. He cried out in pain and looked in the direction the rock came from. That's when he first saw her someone so beautiful, he couldn’t believe he was falling in love again. Before he realized it, his feet were moving on their own towards this stranger. Sam looked up when she heard someone cry out in pain after she threw the rock, she saw

Three years into my fake death, my wife and daughter showed up at my door. To get rid of them, I grabbed a knife and threatened to end my life. Then my seven-year-old daughter put her hand on my father's ventilator. Claire Harrison stood beside her, her voice trembling as she delivered her ultimatum. "Wesley, either you see your father suffocate to death, or you come back and be my husband again. Your choice." I was shaking with rage, but I put down the knife and remarried her. Walking back into that familiar villa, I became the Harrison family's model "devoted husband and father." When my foster brother needed her company because he was feeling down, I cleared out and booked myself a hotel. I ended up with a perforated ulcer, went into surgery, and never once called her. When my daughter got picky and said she only wanted her uncle's cooking, I went straight to Dylan's place and brought him back to live with us. Even on my birthday, when Dylan suddenly started crying and said, "I'm so jealous of you, Wesley. You've got such a wonderful wife and kid. Me? I've never even gotten a decent birthday present," I didn't hesitate—I slid the onyx bead bracelet off my wrist and pressed it into his hand. The deep black beads gleamed against his pale skin. But Claire's eyes went red. She grabbed my wrist, her voice sharp as a blade. "Wesley, that was the love token I prayed for you—step by step on my knees—all the way across the Mojave."

My wife Susan had the power to save lives, but when our son was rushed to the ICU and needed her help, she refused no matter how much I begged. While I was crying myself hoarse when I received news that our son was dead, I heard her purring over the phone, "Mark? Don't worry, your puppy's way more important. Of course I'll save it." There was a limit to her power that she could only use it once a month, but she nonchalantly used it for Mark's pet dog! Shaking with rage, I seized her by the collar and bellowed, "We're talking about a human life here, and your son at that! But an animal is worth more than that?!" Susan shook me off, smirking in disdain. "Mark has always been by himself—is there a problem that I took his side? And what could happen to our son when he has his daddy? Stop giving me that attitude!" Just two hours later, Mark posted on social media a photo of him with Susan kissing his pet dog together, with the smug caption: [Who had bet that a son matters more than a dog? Know when you're beaten. Now pay up!] So he had a bet with someone that Susan would choose his dog! Worst of all, Susan lovingly replied: [If Mark wants to win, I'll always be there for him.] Even as I felt heartrending pain, I was laughing coldly as I sent my own reply. [If you all love to bet so much, why not bet when you're gonna drop dead?]

For ten long years, Ravelle Celeste Branson kept her identity as the sole heiress of Branson Group tightly hidden for the sake of an illusion of genuine love from Kyle Stevens. But on the night of their 10th wedding anniversary, that illusion shattered into pieces. Ravelle caught Kyle passionately making out with his secretary in the CEO's office. That betrayal was merely the tip of the iceberg. The true blow of reality struck when the Civil Registry Office revealed a cruel fact: in the eyes of the law, Ravelle had been secretly removed and divorced eight years earlier through the manipulation of a stack of documents she had blindly signed. Returning home with a heart as cold as ice, a secret safe uncovered an even more disgusting conspiracy. The little girl she had raised with all her heart and soul was not an adopted child, but the biological daughter of Kyle and his mistress. Even worse, Ravelle's body had been poisoned with microdoses of heavy metals for years—a vicious scheme designed to render her infertile and slowly kill her. They thought Ravelle was a weak woman with no one to protect her, someone who could be discarded after being drained of everything she had. They were terribly mistaken. With Erlan El Salvador Jhins, the genius CEO who was ready to level Manhattan to protect her, standing by her side, the crown heiress rose from her emotional death. Ravelle returned to reclaim her throne, crush Stevens Group into the ruins of bankruptcy, and send the traitors to the deepest hell. When Kyle finally fell to his knees at her feet, crying tears of blood and begging for forgiveness, Ravelle merely looked at him with the coldest smile. "I'm sorry, my ex-husband. Your regret came too late."