Suitcase Character

Synopsis Rose has nothing. Three years inside the Quinn mansion — cooking, cleaning, invisible — while her husband waits for the woman he actually loves. When that woman walks back through the door, Rose walks out. Divorce papers signed. Suitcase in the rain. Then four black cars block an empty road. The Albert brothers have spent thirteen years searching for their kidnapped sister. The DNA doesn't lie. Rose Albert is finally home — to a family that loves her, a stepsister who wants her gone, and a name worth half a billion dollars. But the real problem has green eyes. Damien Rodriguez walks through locked doors. His reflection moves half a second behind his body. His eyes burn red in the dark. He arrived at the Albert estate one morning, looked past everyone in the room, and pointed directly at Rose. Her. She's mine. The contract predates her birth. The agreement was made before Rose existed — between Damien and her bloodline. He has been watching her entire life. Waiting. Certain. Because Rose isn't just an heiress. She carries something four hundred years old inside her. And Damien — ancient, dangerous, and not entirely human — has been waiting through centuries for her to come back to him. She just doesn't know it yet.

After Celeste is denounced from being an Omega, she is rejected by her mate who is the soon-to-be Alpha of her pack. Broken and depressed, she attempts to end her life when she is saved by Killian, an infamous Alpha of the most powerful pack in history. After an incident ensues, Celeste finds out she might have a connection to the sea. And might be of a powerful mix breed, after all. With her mate by her side, could she find out what truly makes her content? —- If you’re liking this story, follow me @ra_high_eels on IG for teasers, face claims, and character muse

Awakening to a bewildering and astonishing reality, Seraphina found herself in an extraordinary situation: she had transmigrated into her own novel, stepping into the shoes of a character she had meticulously crafted. The male lead in her story was notoriously elusive, challenging to approach, and the master of a harem. Seraphina, now Zephyrine Everlynn, unexpectedly found herself among the women in his harem. It was utterly absurd! Promptly leaving the harem, Seraphina used her knowledge to help others win the male lead's heart, all for the right price. But why did the male lead continuously find his way back to her?

Looking for a strong female character? Check. Eyeing for love ,conspiracy and action? Check. Want to see two great cultures of history ? Check. Want to know about story of an Indian princess and great prince of Florence who was a widower? If it's a yes , then peep inside to see what secrets it beholds. Here , blood is not thicker than water. People will even go to hell if it's about the crown and power. Craving of being a ruler surpasses every height. Conspiracy, betrayal and what not just to win Rome. Amidst of it, beautiful relations would also blossom. Dive deep into the story to find what it has to offer.

"What if....you were the one inside this novel?" In a chain story, the novel started with a girl named Leah, a beautiful girl with spoiled love from her brother [Lewis] he, who protect her from dangers, and her friends [Nami, Gu, Georgia and Ole] they, who helped her from her woes and problems. Now, however, she found something new. A novel that will change her life forever. If that's the case, then what will Leah do if she found herself in a novel where the novel chained her? "What if...." in a story, where you are just a side character running around with the main characters. Just "what if..."

The day I dissolved the mate bond, I called my childhood friend to pick me up. I had a bank card with barely any balance left, my phone, and the same clothes I had worn the day I moved into this house. That was everything I owned after all those years living in the pack. My mate, Derek Anderson, called to say I had left a few things behind. "Forget it. Just throw them away." He seemed reluctant to give up. "Your son keeps saying he wants to see you." I dragged my suitcase behind me and walked away without looking back. "Tell him he'll have a new mom soon. The one he's always wanted." Like father, like son. They even fell for the same woman. In the past, I would have asked myself, 'Why won't they even look at me? I've given them so much.' Now, I felt nothing. If they didn't love me, then so be it. I would let them go and let myself go in the process too. My childhood best friend, Eric Keaton, helped me with my luggage and opened the door of his Maybach. I said one last thing to my mate. "I won't ever disturb you and your son again." After a long time, he found me. He grabbed my arm like a madman and stared at me in despair. "Leah Sullivan, why don't you care about us anymore?"

He's a father of twins, she's a virgin girl, he's rude heartless man for outsiders, she's jolly, loving girl. He's arrogant, she's queen of arrogance and sassy ness. He's bitter spoker, she's sharp spoker. If he's a knife, then she's a sword. Will they two polor aparts character ever become one after their marriage? will he able to love her? Or she be able to accept his Childerns as hers? To know about the journey of sweet and salty, Anshika and Kabir...join CEO and His Adorable TWINS. ××WARNING-- MATURE CONTENT××

Tiffany, a bold, unapologetically Black woman with a mouth that rarely misses, suddenly finds herself trapped inside a tragic romance novel-as the second female lead, Deja Moreau. Her mission? Break off her engagement to one of the wealthiest men in the story, either become the most beloved or the most hated character, and walk away with a cool $20 million. Sounds simple... right? However her inner thoughts are suddenly not-so-private, and the story's main characters aren't following the script. Can she cause enough chaos to escape this love story with the bag? Or will the book rewrite her instead?

He whispered her name nine hundred and ninety-nine times in his sleep. Never mine. For five years, I gave everything to Vincent Bonanno—the heir to one of the most powerful mafia dynasties in Europe. I turned his house into a home, remembered every careless detail he let slip, even abandoned my dream of becoming an artist—believing that one day, he would finally choose me. But whenever Alessia appeared, his loyalty bent toward her. The night boiling fondue scarred my arms, he rushed to shield her from a scratch that barely reddened her skin. In public, his gaze never stayed with me—it drifted to her. I was the wife on paper, but never in truth. So I walked away. With nothing but a suitcase, divorce papers he signed without noticing, and a secret I never planned to share—three months pregnant. He discovered too late. The divorce was real. The clinic file was real. And by the time he realized, I had vanished. Now the man who once ruled cities with cold power is tearing the world apart to find us. He has soldiers, money, and a thousand apologies he never gave when I was still his wife. But I’m no longer the woman who begged for affection. I’m a mother. An artist. A survivor. The question isn’t whether Vincent can reach me. It’s whether, when he does, I’ll ever let him back into the life he destroyed.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.