Smiling But Crying Novels & Stories

I trusted her. I trusted him. Big mistake. When I caught my husband and my best friend tangled in betrayal, my world shattered. And my daughter? She chose her as her new mom. Me? Just a housewife. Just the ‘overbearing mom’ who cared too much. Done. I walked away, leaving their apologies and tears in the dust. My husband dropped to his knees, begging, “Please, come back. We can fix this.”My daughter clung to me, crying, “Mom, don’t leave me.” I laughed: “Fix it? Don’t leave? Too late. You had your chance. I don’t need either of you anymore.”

Jennifer Smith was left at the altar, betrayed on live TV, her family ruined, her life destroyed. Pregnant. Humiliated. Broken. Then Adrian Hale stole her son and disappeared. Three years later, Jennifer isn’t crying anymore. She’s angry. She’s powerful. And she wants her child back no matter what ,she will burn them whoever comes in her way... With a dangerous ally at her side and revenge in her blood, she hunts Adrian down only to be captured, forced into marriage, and locked on his fortress island. He wants control. She wants blood. And love? Love might be the most fucked-up battlefield of all. Revenge and Obsession. A stolen child.This time, she won’t lose.

Everyone knew Peter was crazy about me. But five years into our marriage, he knocked up his mentor's daughter. Crying, Cindy grabbed his hand. "I won't let Yuna know." Peter just stared her down. "You'd better not. I'm only helping you because I owe your dad. Don't get any bright ideas." She had the baby on my birthday. Peter looked at the kid like he was already in love. Then Cindy, all smug, texted me: [Ms. Zander, don't you think my baby deserves a dad with a real title?] I signed the divorce papers and caught a flight to Hampsburg.

I let Gideon mark me again. Then, I put my Alpha mate up for rent. The fragile widow of his dead Beta, Civian, always found excuses to drag him out of our bed. I stopped crying over the possessive pull of our Mate bond. Instead, I just charged her by the hour. 100,000 an hour during the day. 200,000 at night. Triple on full moons. In just three months, my offshore account grew by nearly twenty million. He had promised to take me to the werewolf auction to buy some rare herbs. But that woman called, crying that her wolf was out of control and desperately needed soothing. I didn't even blink. I just pulled out my phone and started the timer. Midnight. Burning up with fever from the pills I took to suppress my heat, he was driving me to the Pack hospital. That woman called again, shaking because she had a nightmare about Civian’s bloody death. I calmly signaled him to pull over and drop me at the next intersection. Seeing the flicker of struggle in his eyes, I just smiled lazily. "Just don't forget to pay." Then came the day of our daughter Mia’s checkup at The Pack's Gene-Therapy Center. The woman called again. "Toby's first shift is coming up. He really needs a strong Alpha to guide him through this dangerous time..." Gideon hung up the phone. He turned, guilt flashing in his eyes, and started to kneel before our daughter to explain. But Mia just held out her little hand, copying me exactly. "It's okay, Daddy. Just pay up. It's a full moon today, so that’s triple."

•••[Excerpt]••• "Stop... Stop!" Rosana's voice quivered as tears of fright brimmed her vision. She had been crying for hours, but not because she was leaving the beautiful life she had planned with her fiance behind. She was crying because her newly wedded husband had tortured and murdered a man mercilessly on their wedding night. "Stop, please..." He ignored her. "No... Stop touching me. Take your bloody hands off me!" Indeed, his hands were covered with the blood of the man he had killed earlier. But he didn't care. "S... Stop touching me!" He grabbed her neck and she gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "You shouldn't make me do this on our wedding night, Bambolina. You are mine and I will take whatever I want, whenever I want, wherever I want, and however I want, till death do us part, Mi Amor" ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Rosana Marcello was already living the life she had dreamt about. With her boyfriend-turned-fiance by her side, nothing could be more perfect. Some weeks before the wedding, she was called back home by her parents and welcomed with devastating news. She had been betrothed since when she was a little girl but never knew. Now, he has come to claim what is rightfully his. With or without her approval. He is deadly, He is evil, He is the ruthless Sergio De Niro, known by everyone. Rosana can't escape this. She can't run away from him because he will comb the world and kill everyone in it, just to find her. She is now his possession, his property. It's either she tames him and melts his cold heart or he breaks her into a thousand pieces. Will she succeed or get consumed by his burning hell?

The air between them became hotter as she bit her lip, trying to stop herself from smiling so much. The closet was dark and stuffy, so small that their bodies were almost touching, her heart thumped like crazy. "D-Derek" She called out as he hummed in response, holding unto his sides for some unknown reason. "Will you be my boyfriend?" She blurted out, closing her eyes so she wouldn't see his reaction, he groaned, it almost broke her heart but when she looked down, she saw his shirt was now soaked. Blood trailing down his abdomen which made her gasp, slamming open the closet door. "Somebody call an ambulance!" She yelled as the guy she had just asked out dropped limp to the ground like a pack of soggy spaghetti. *A Nigerian themed novel* |16+

It was him. The man I had just been accused of murdering in cold blood. The man whom I've been forced to consume poison because of. Or, had I seen a ghost? Why was my supposedly dead husband standing in the midst of those people, smirking in accomplishment. As the venom of the poison spread through my body and like I was going to rip apart because of the pain, I gave in to the paralysis that rushed me and then closed my eyes shut, tears finding their way out of my closed eyes regardless. “P…please, G… God,” I mumbled with the final breath in me. ~~~ And, suddenly, my eyes were opened, and I was standing in front of him. And he was smiling widely at me, asking what I thought of the wedding dress. But, this was weird because this was from three years ago. Then, my eyes dropped on the calendar. Was I hallucinating? I… I have been reborn?!

My fiancé, Owen Lockhart, came from old money. He kept a canary in a gilded cage, spoiling her rotten. Just as I was about to break off the engagement with him, a barrage of comments suddenly popped up in my mind. [What did Owen do wrong? He just wanted to get your attention.] [Don't break up with him. All you need to do is shed a few tears, and he'll give you everything.] I turned my head, and through the window, I saw the canary in her high-end jewelry, smiling brightly as she hooked her arm around Owen's. He lazily lowered his eyes, yet his expression held a hint of indifference mixed with a subtle affection. I smiled bitterly, replying to the lawyer's message: [Go on with drafting the engagement annulment agreement.]

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

My wife, wanting to spend a romantic birthday date with her first love, added a dose of sleeping medication to the milk bottle of our sick, crying daughter. The medicine took effect, and our daughter drifted into a deep sleep, which allowed them to enjoy a romantic, undisturbed date together. When I came home, I found our daughter still sleeping. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was too late. I called my wife, but she answered with irritation. "Is it because I'm celebrating Shawn's birthday that you must ruin it? I'll go home after the celebration is over." Then, she turned off her phone. Little did she know that, for the sake of one romantic date, she had taken our daughter's life.