Sounded Synonym Novels & Stories

“Is it really impossible for you to love me? Even a little?” I sounded desperate. His lips curled into a mocking grin. “Love you? Don’t be ridiculous. I would never love a desperate woman like you. Amanda’s my everything. And you? You are nothing.” *** Angel Elowyn Montero and Gideon Elwood were once good friends until marriage ruined everything they had. To Gideon, she was the reason his life was ruined and the reason the woman he loved never returned. Their marriage was loveless and detached. Despite everything, she held on to the hope that he would eventually love her too. His family, except for his parents, despised Angel as well. In the mansion, she was treated worse than a servant by his siblings, who bossed her around and even hurt her physically. Until one day, she finally had enough. She grew tired of hoping for a love that would never be reciprocated. So, when her husband handed her divorce papers again, she did not think twice and signed them. Only after she was gone did Gideon realize his own feelings. He loved her far more than he had ever allowed himself to admit. But by then, it was too late. He no longer knew where his ex-wife was. Years later, she returned. Angel was no longer the fragile woman who endured everything for the sake of love. She came back as someone entirely different: fierce, bold, independent. Now, the tables had finally turned. He loved her, and he was determined to win her back.

“Elena,” he says. My name has never sounded more filthy. He slams the door shut behind him with a kick of his foot and I flinch. My hand remains behind my back, it is a good thing he does not notice that my hands are now free. He inches forward and I take as many steps back as I can until I hit the wall. He comes even closer until his ugly face is mere inches away from my own. I can smell the stench of his wolf as he roughly grabs me by the chin. I quake uncontrollably, it is as if a wave of parasitic worms has taken hold of me, his touch is repulsive as it is nauseating. This man, who is old enough to be my father leans in and smiles. My eye starts to water and a sob escapes my lips. ****** Elena is a wolf-less girl who hails from a long line of omegas. One day, the enemy pack comes demanding for tributes, virgin girls to work as their slaves and to save her family, Elena volunteers to become one. She ends up a slave to the alpha of the enemy pack where she is horribly tortured. All hope seems lost and all she wants to do is to die, but then her savior comes in the form of Hunter, the alpha of the Storm Riders pack. Hunter takes one look at her and realizes she is his one true mate. But the only problem is, she has already been claimed by the alpha of the enemy pack. Will Elena be set free and allowed to choose her own path and happiness? Or will she be forever doomed to live in the shadows of her scars and past?

The day after my mom used 880 grand from selling our family restaurant to buy a house for my cousin, my girlfriend of five years dumped me. "Evan," Ruby Lawrence said while she sat across from me. "Let's break up." My hands trembled. "Why?" "I waited for you for five years." Her eyes welled with tears. "You said once the restaurant was sold, we'd have the down payment for a house in Seahaven. Where is it now? Where's the money?" I tried to explain, but she cut me off. "In your parents' eyes, you're not even as important as your cousin. So tell me, who's really their son? I'm 28, Evan. I can't keep waiting." She grabbed her bag and walked away without looking back. My phone buzzed. My mom sent me a photo of her and my cousin at his new house. That was followed with a voice note. She sounded joyful. "Your cousin finally achieved his biggest life goal. We can relax now." I stared at his smug smile in the photo. I laughed until tears ran down my face. I exited the 'Clark Family Forever' group chat and blocked every single relative. 'Since you all choose him, then from this moment on, your reputation or loyalty will have nothing to do with me. I only wonder if you'll think of the son you abandoned when that precious nephew of yours, who you poured all your resources into, throws you out of your own home.'

My crippled sister, Monica Porter, jumped from the roof of the classroom building. The day before she died, she had just been fitted with the custom prosthetic legs I had paid for with ten years of savings. She was glowing, excited to finally stand up on her own. But my wife's best friend, a guy she said was just like a brother to her, locked Monica inside an empty art room. He smashed her new legs, forced her to crawl on the floor and lick paint clean to retrieve the broken parts, and recorded everything on video. And my wife, a judge, ultimately ruled that the case could not stand. "The video cannot confirm the time it was recorded and may represent consensual performance art between both parties," she said. Sandra Pauley's final judgment was simple. "The deceased had a history of depression. The school and the defendant bear no responsibility." I smiled and cooked her a full table of food. The next day, I hung the bully, Eric Hoyles, from the school's flagpole and livestreamed it to the entire internet. "Honey, remember how you said Monica had such pretty legs?" I raised a claw hammer and brought it down on his ankle. "If you don't hand over the video evidence right now, I'll hook out his Achilles tendon one strand at a time and let him learn what it feels like to crawl!" The wind passed through. His screaming broke apart in the air, mixing with the strained creaking of the flagpole until it sounded almost like music. The live chat went insane. Meanwhile, I laughed until my eyes filled with tears.

Edward and I held our engagement party in Las Vegas. Everything seemed perfect—until someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. One of Edward's female coworkers looked me straight in the eye. "I am pregnant. It is your fiancé's baby." Laughter burst out around us. Everyone thought it was a joke—except Edward. After the trip, we returned home. He looked uneasy. "I'm the father of Juliet's baby," he admitted. "Don't overthink it. We were on a business trip and got too drunk with a client. We accidentally spent the night together. "She is from a British aristocratic family. Reputation matters a lot to her. She will never marry me. She only wants to have the baby and raise it alone." "So what are you saying?" I asked. "I am the father. I have to take responsibility. I will stay in the apartment I rented for her and take care of her pregnancy on weekdays, and come home on weekends. "Our wedding will be delayed. We will get married after the baby is borned." I gave a small smile. So he had it all planned out. He was just here to inform me. He let out a sigh of relief, picked up his Rimowa suitcase, and walked out without looking back. I wiped the tears off my face and began packing away all the memories of our relationship. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. The voice on the other end sounded messy and emotional. "Margot, I freaking love you. Don't marry him. Marry me instead." I froze for a second, then replied, "Okay."

Harry Adams is a young millionaire orphan, who has sunk into the solitude of his mansion since his parents died, so tragic was the death of these, he suffers from a depression disorder, so he lives away from absolutely all the outside world, becoming a sullen and insensitive man, but that deep down he needs love. In his parents' will, so that his family can give him a large inheritance, they leave as a condition that he must marry before the age of 30, or else he would lose all his fortune and it would be donated to a foundation. But he has not bothered to do anything about it, who he is really worried is to Ernest Samuelson, his faithful friend and caretaker since his parents died, so he proposes Harry to get a wife by contract to avoid losing his inheritance, and although it sounded crazy it was a good option to avoid being left on the street. Ernest in his search for the ideal woman, can only find Diane Saenz, daughter of his best friend, a humble girl, who leads an unimaginable mess of life, her father accepts the contract without considering her opinion, as they are about to lose their house. For Diane this drastic change in her life makes her more rebellious and daring, the idea of leaving her current boyfriend to marry a millionaire she does not know, makes her make the worst decision, so in the company of her current partner they decide to form a macabre plan to kill Harry, but over time, those feelings of hatred turn into love, thus giving a twist to the story, as she must prove her selfless love to Harry so that he does not break the marriage contract.

- I guess you are Kaya Caravigne? Kara raised her head and smiled... - Yes, that's me. She took the gloved hand offered to her by the young woman in front of her and when the latter took off her hat, the young woman almost fell over. She had in front of her a woman identical to her... Brown hair, blue eyes and white skin... - I am Princess Mirabelle and I have an offer for you... I am supposed to get married in three days with the Sultan of Castamar whom I don't like very much, unfortunately... You are my carbon copy so you will take my place in front of the hotel and be his wife for the next three months... Each month I will pay you a million on your account, after the three months... I will take over. Does that suit you? - Well, I... I'll... - You need the money Kaya and I don't want to marry this man... I think we can clearly do business...? 3 million... was not a sum she could let go and besides, she could realize her dream and have the life she wanted. As strange as this story sounded, she was going to accept... Agree to marry this Sultan... Much later, Kaya would discover that this Sultan was as beautiful as he was cold... - I don't know why you agreed to marry me but I assure you that you will regret it... But the young woman was going to prove to him that she was a worthy opponent and that she could be like him sometimes... - I already regret it Majesty... It's a pity that under this Appolon appearance is a black heart.

Today was like the day I met him: Me, riding a bicycle and him, walking down the pavement. I grab the handle of the bicycle and watch him as he make his way towards me. I do not know why I feel nervous. A trickle of sweat drip on the side of my face, my heart beat fast and I could hardly breathe. He was meters away, until it grow shorter to a foot and then bam, he bumped into me and we fall down, him on top of me. This felt like a deja vù, like it was our very first encounter. We scurried to get up but ended up bumping our heads together. I glared at him as he got up, He didn't even offer me a hand. He didn’t even give me a second glance. He just passed by me. Not noticing me. Not even looking at me. I let go of the bicycle and turn to face him. I remove the helmet that I was wearing and grip it tightly before screaming, “YAH! My hands curled into a fist and before I know it, the helmet I was holding was already flying towards him.I raise my hand as if to save him but it collided on his head right before I could even react. It sounded a hollow thump and a pronounced groan. His hands made his way to the back of his head as he turn and face me. With those eyes that seem like it was murdering me, he chase me off and I hastily took my bicycle and ran. I couldn’t help but feel happy instead of guilty as he ran after me. This was like before. This was like that summer, that summer I met him.

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

Anger, in all shades, blared into his eyes as he pushed me against the wall, growling. “Don’t let any man touch you ever again!” My blood boiled at his audacity as I spat out. “You have already rejected me, Alpha Vincenzo. Now, you can’t …” The rest of my warning died down in my head as he lunged forward and wrapped his hand around my throat. Despite his maddening rage, his gruff voice sounded eerily calm, sending shivers down my spine. “Rejected or not, you are mine, Ashley. Touch another man, and trust me, I’ll make sure you see me tear him to shreds!” … Rejected, banished, and tormented. Ashley’s life was another name of hell as she struggled to survive in the rogue pack every single day. She loathed her ex, Alpha Vincenzo, the reason behind her endless misery. However, life wasn’t exactly a bed of roses for Vincenzo as well. Burning in the fire of regret, his love turned into obsession, driving his wolf to the edge of insanity. His only goal was to bring Ashley back, no matter how long it took. After five years of separation, their paths crossed again in a fateful encounter, entangling their fates with a bizarre backlash of rejection. But Ashley was sure of one thing, she would never forgive Vincenzo! As her hatred clashed with Vincenzo’s obsession, the old feelings surfaced, reigniting the spark. Would she be able to resist the temptation of the bond that still simmered between them? Or the storm of true love would wash away all the grievances of the past?