Scream Hollow Novels & Stories

I save the Alpha. He crowns my sister. "Miles... I'm your mate," I blurt, hoping that will break through his confusion and make him see me for who I truly am. He only stares quietly at me, but I can see the conflict and confusion in his expression. "I'm sorry, Rhea. You're beautiful, and your scent..." his words trail as he buries his nose on my neck and inhales deeply. "It's the sweetest I've ever known. But I love your sister, and I made a promise I don't intend to break. We will have to reject the mate bond." "Why won't you believe me?" I plead, my voice raw. "I'm the girl you met that night. I am your mate!" Miles' gaze hardens as he points toward the exit. "You need to leave, Rhea. Or I'll have security escort you out." "You liar!" I scream as I yank Roxy's hair. "You've stolen everything from me!" I feel Miles' hands gripping my shoulders as he yanks me off her, shoving me backward. I land hard on my butt. "Listen to me, Rhea," he hisses, his voice filled with venom, his eyes cold. "I don't want to see you near me or Roxy again. If you do, I'll have you banished." He takes a step closer, towering above me. "I, Alpha Miles Mondragon, reject you, Rhea Chapman, as my mate. Accept it or reject it; I don't fucking care." Have you ever watched your Knight in shining armor stolen from your very own fantasy? It could be the most heartbreaking thing. What do you do when the man fated to love you calls you a liar? When the boy you save becomes the Alpha who destroys you? This is my story, and how my fate was stolen.

"PAPILLON!!!" His scream ripped through the house as his fist slammed into the wall right beside my head. The impact was deafening, before I could even blink, he lunged. His hand snapped around my neck. I gasped, my body going rigid as his grip locked me in place... not tight enough to kill, but firm enough to control, to own, to make sure I couldn't move… couldn't look away from him. His eyes burned into mine... wild, furious and terrifying. "Say it again," he growled, his voice trembling with rage. "Say you like him one more time and I'll go back to him, I won't just beat him, Papillon…" His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make me swallow hard. "I'll cut his tongue out and bring it to you in a box." My heart dropped. My lips parted, but no sound came out. What… What have I gotten myself into? ~~~ After I found a secret about my mom, my dad sent me to Paris saying it was the best way to escape from Mom's cage. What I didn't expect was to meet Logan, but everyone in L'impasse des Ombres calls him Bloodbath. He wasn't the gentle, patient kind of man I had read about in books. He wasn't safe. He wasn't soft. He was danger wrapped in calm confidence. Darkness disguised as temptation. He was the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about... calm on the surface, but with something dark and merciless lurking underneath. He wasn't like me... I didn't belong to his dark world. But instead of running away, I found myself begging to feel his warm tongue against my skin. He ruined the careful, obedient girl I had always been. And the worst part was… I wanted him to. I craved him.

A forbidden romance that feels so wrong but yet, so right. I was supposed to be his perfect wife. His breeding vessel, he'd said. Marcus Blackwell married me with a fake certificate, used my body to get me pregnant, and planned to steal my baby before throwing me away like garbage. So I ran and built an empire. I became everything he said I'd never be. And six years later, I'm back in New York—successful, powerful, untouchable. Until I meet HIM. The dark dangerous man I had a passionate one night stand with weeks ago. The same man who had given me sleepless nights just thinking about him. One night of passion that changes everything, and one problem that might destroy my one chance at happiness: He's my Ex-husband father. His hands gripped my hips as he thrust deeper, his breath hot against my neck. *"This is wrong," I gasped, even as my body arched into him, feeling him deep inside my core. " Ahh fuck,” I cried out loud as he pinched my nipples hard. “You're his father—" “And you're not his wife anymore,” he groaned roughly as his teeth grazed my throat. "You're mine now, and nothing will change that, my little rebel.” His thrust became faster as he pounded into me like an animal. “James!...hmmpph.” *"Scream my name again,” he growled. “Say you're mine!” “I'm yours," I whispered, hating myself for how much I meant it. “I'm so fucking yours, Daddy!” “His smile against my skin was pure sin. "Good girl. Now let me show you what it's like to be worshipped instead of used." James Blackwell doesn't just want revenge on his son. He wants me; Completely, Obsessively, and Permanently. But Marcus isn't done destroying me.

Beverly Sinclair and Evan Gray have loved each other for ten years, and they've been married for six. To everyone else, Evan seems madly in love with Beverly. He's devoted, gentle, and basically the perfect husband. But it's only when his mistress shows up at her door that Beverly realizes it was all a cruel joke. He's been cheating for five years, and he even has an illegitimate child. He keeps the other woman right under Beverly's nose, all while wearing the mask of a loving husband. He says he loves her—even more than life itself. But how is this love? Evan hides behind layers of fake affection, dragging everyone around him into the charade, all so he can build the illusion of a perfect marriage. Even Beverly's son has been lying to her. It's a double betrayal from father and son, especially when they act like the mistress is the one who completes the family. Utterly devastated, Beverly decides she's done with this. She returns to her classified team and leaves behind the absurd, hollow life that never truly belonged to her. When the one-month notice period ends, she disappears completely, vanishing from the world without a trace. From that moment on, Evan never sees Beverly again. ... Evan loves Beverly to his core. He was just too afraid to lose her, yet that fear turned their marriage into a tragedy. He thought he hid it well. He thought their marriage was still blissful and that the woman he loved so deeply would never discover the truth. But it's only after Beverly vanishes from his world that he realizes just how wrong he was. Evan breaks down, losing his sanity. He gives up everything. He jumps through hoops and kneels before every god he can find, begging for just one more glance from her. With red eyes and shaking hands, he pleads, "Can you please... love me once more?" However, the truth is that a late apology is worth less than nothing. Beverly already has someone new in her life. There's no place left for Evan or their son.

On the day my husband's dying first love gave birth, his father, the Don of the Lupo family, posted ten armed men outside my door. They were on high alert, terrified I might storm the delivery room and disrupt the birth of the first heir to the Lupo family. But I never even touched the door, not even when the newborn's cries echoed down the hall. Luca's mother, the family's Donna, let out a long sigh of relief, her hand tightly gripping the woman's on the hospital bed. "Bianca, we're here. That barren woman, Stella, won't lay a finger on you or my grandson." Luca leaned over, gently wiping the cold sweat from Bianca's brow, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Don't worry, Father's had his men lock down the entire private hospital. If she dares to cause a scene, I'll have her struck from the family records myself." Only after confirming I wouldn't show up to make trouble did he finally relax. He didn't understand. In his eyes, he was just honoring a debt, giving a dying woman a child to carry on her name, helping his first love fulfill her final wish. Why couldn't I just be graceful about it? Why couldn't I see the bigger picture? A satisfied smile touched Luca's lips as he gazed at the swaddled infant. He was even thinking that if I would just swallow my pride, admit I was wrong, and show Bianca a little kindness, he would forgive my previous coldness completely. He'd make it up to me, even offering me the hollow title of the child's mother, allowing me to keep my position as the Underboss's wife. But what he didn't know was that I had already signed the divorce papers my lawyer had drawn up. In a week, I would cut all ties with the Lupo family, take the twins growing inside me and walk away. We would never see each other again, not in this life or the next.

I was born with a built-in fortune system. Whenever I'm happy, everyone around me makes money. To keep me in a good mood, my billionaire father takes me out on adventures every single day, showering me with limited-edition sneakers, private yacht charters, and one-of-a-kind luxury items. It all comes down to one thing: the Connolly Group's luck is tied directly to my emotional state. As long as I'm laughing hard enough to snort, the stock price climbs and the money pours in. The moment my mood tanks, the losses start. At worst, the whole thing goes bankrupt. Take last month. One of the cleaning staff accidentally tossed out half a macaron I'd left sitting on the counter, and I was mildly annoyed for about a second. The next day, the Connolly Group's West Coast division posted a hundred-million-dollar loss. Dad spent the entire night buying up ten gourmet bakeries and terminating the cleaning company's contract just to smooth things over. After that, nobody in Manhattan's upper-crust social scene dared so much as look at me sideways. That was, until Dad flew out to Los Angeles on business, and Isabella, the long-lost biological daughter who'd just been found, walked into my room. "You've been leeching off this family for years," she said, looking down at me with pure contempt. "Did you actually think draining the Connolly name dry made you the real heiress? I'm the one with Connolly blood. Now that I'm back, it's time for you to crawl out of my house." I didn't react. She picked up the black coffee sitting nearby and poured it straight onto my keyboard. I watched the screen go dark, and something hollow opened up in my chest. "Get on your knees and clean it up." I wiped the coffee off my face. The air had gone cold. The Connolly Group was about to implode, and I found myself wondering whether Dad, thousands of miles away in LA, was already reaching for his heart medication as he watched billions evaporate off the ticker.

At the afterparty, my daughter, Mia Volpe, suffers from a sudden asthma attack. She collapses to the carpeted floor and goes through a seizure on the spot. But my Capo husband, Lorenzo Volpe, wraps an arm around his secretary, Sophia Bianchi, while watching Mia suffer before his eyes. Sophia had once shown him a forged paternity test of Mia and him. As such, he firmly believes that Mia is the bastard child of me and a Soldato. When Mia tries to reach out for Lorenzo, her complexion already bluish-purple from suffocation, he merely averts his gaze with a disgusted look on his face. "Daddy… S-Save… me…" I look everywhere for Mia's inhaler like a madwoman, only to realize that it's already empty. Sophia covers her mouth while tittering softly. "Dear me, Mia sure has an affinity for acting! Elena, I can't believe you and your daughter are willing to go to such lengths just to get Lorenzo to pay attention to you! "Since Mia likes acting that much, she might as well make the performance perfect." She lifts a high-heeled foot before crushing Mia's fingers, which were attempting to curl around Lorenzo's pant leg. Poor Mia was in so much pain, yet she couldn't let out a single sound. All she could do was scream silently into the void with her mouth wide open. I kneeled on the floor, my forehead already bleeding from smashing it against the floor repeatedly. "Lorenzo Volpe, Mia is your flesh and blood! Please, I'm begging you! Give me some medicine or call a doctor!" But Lorenzo just looks at me coldly, as though he's looking at trash. "A bastard like her is better off dead. Elena Corleone, stop using such underhanded methods to spoil everyone's mood." At that moment, what little love I still harbor for this man completely dissipates as I feel Mia's heartbeat gradually weaken. I no longer beg him for help. With trembling hands, I press the button on the emergency transmitter that I've sworn I'd never touch. That transmitter is the direct line to the highest authority in Smeraldia—my father, Don Vito Corleone.

Phoebe Marsh had carelessly submitted the wrong quotation, causing the company to suffer a massive loss and leaving us facing enormous compensation claims. To win the contract back, I attended what was basically a trap disguised as a dinner to apologize on the company's behalf. I was forced to drink until my stomach bled, enduring humiliation after humiliation just to smooth everything over. After the matter was settled, Phoebe comforted me and promised that one day, she would give me a grand wedding. But the day before our wedding, she showed up in a wedding gown and threw herself into Julian Stratford's arms instead. When I demanded an explanation, she brushed it off casually. "You were just some nobody who clawed his way out of a backwater village. What made you think I'd actually choose you? Besides, Julian is the general manager's son. The difference between you two is night and day. But if you really can't let me go, I guess I wouldn't mind keeping you around." Phoebe actually wanted me to be her lover. That slap ended everything between us. I turned around and agreed to marry the Grey family's heiress—my childhood sweetheart. What I never expected was that our weddings would be held on the same day, in the same hotel. As I stepped through the hotel entrance, Phoebe arrived with a crowd of our former coworkers and blocked my path. "Cassian Frost, you actually came to crash my wedding? Let me make this clear—I won't let anyone ruin my perfect wedding with Julian. Since you insist on embarrassing yourself, you'd better apologize to Julian and beg for his forgiveness." The crowd immediately burst into jeers and cheers. Phoebe kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground. She even stripped off my clothes to humiliate me in public. Only when Evelyne Grey arrived did Phoebe instantly switch to a flattering smile. "Ms. Grey, my ex-boyfriend completely lost his mind. He actually claimed to be your husband. But don't worry, I already dealt with him. About that Upper Hollow contract… Do you think we can sign it now?"

My name is Daniella Limebear. In my past life, my long-lost younger sister, Heidi Limebear, returns home. On her very first day back, I hear the faint whispers of her heart: "At the riverside, I saw the other kids learning to swim with their dads… I wish I could join them." The next day, I drive Heidi to the clearest stretch of river in the countryside. I teach her to float and paddle, guiding her hands with mine. Without warning, she lets out a scream and disappears beneath the water. I plunge into the river, fighting against the current to reach her. Suddenly, she clutches my arm and pulls me under. With the last of my strength, I push her toward the shore. Water fills my lungs, and darkness swallows me. Amid the piercing wail of the ambulance siren, Heidi curls into our mother's arms, tears streaking her cheeks. Mom slaps me across the face. In Dad's eyes, there is only utter disappointment. "Heidi has already endured so much while she was gone for ten years! I can't believe you would try to drown her the moment she comes home!" he snaps. I stand frozen, unable to defend myself. Shortly after the incident, a group of troublemakers just outside the school gates corners Heidi. Once again, I "hear" her cries of despair echoing in my mind: "He said if I don't meet him tonight, he'll set our home on fire! Daniella, please save me! You're the only one who can." The moment I arrive at the scene, I'm immediately surrounded by a group of thugs. With cruel, mocking smiles, they close in from all sides. "Don't blame us. Your precious younger sister paid us five thousand dollars to kill you." "She claimed that once you're out of the picture, the billion‑dollar inheritance goes straight to her." Just as I begin to suffocate, I notice Heidi standing not far away. Her face remains perfectly calm and composed. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day she was found and brought home. Once more, her inner voice echoes in my ears: "I really want to swim… I wish Daniella would take me."

Ever since my wife, Allison Strong, gives birth to our son, Noel Russell, she becomes unable to speak. The doctors say it is likely a psychological issue. For three whole years, she does not say a single word to me. Even when there's a gas leak in the house, she simply waits for me to discover it myself. When Noel cries from hunger, she never tries to comfort him. After my company goes bankrupt, I don't even have time to grieve. I spend my days delivering packages to support the family while taking my wife to see psychologists and specialists. One day, I am dead tired after working from morning until night. As I back my car into the garage, I fail to notice that Allison has left three-year-old Noel to play behind the vehicle. The moment I feel the car roll over something, my gut tells me something is very wrong. Noel's cries last only a few moments before he falls silent. My legs nearly give out beneath me. Forcing myself to stay upright, I scoop up Noel and rush him to the hospital with my hands trembling uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Allison stands silently somewhere to the side. Just like always, she says nothing. Her expression remains absolutely unfazed. Though she is the one who has given birth to Noel, everything seems completely unrelated to her. I have a mental breakdown. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I shake her desperately and yell, "You saw what was happening, why didn't you warn me? Why did you let him play there? What kind of psychological problem do you have that you can just stand by and watch your own son die? "Are you trying to destroy me, Allison?" I scream hysterically, but she still does not open her mouth or make a sound. Despair engulfs me. Three years of complete silence from her crushes me. Just when I am about to give up, Allison pushes through the crowd and softly speaks her first words in three years. They are quiet, but I hear them clearly. "Clarence..." Clarence Welch is the name of her first love. Only then do I realize that her psychological issue is with Noel and me.