Novelas y relatos de Under Her Feet

Two months after I died, it finally occurred to my parents that they'd forgotten to bring me back from their trip. My father scowled in frustration. "She was supposed to walk back herself. Does she really need to make such a big deal out of it?" My brother, ever smug, opened our chat and sent an emoji, along with a message. [You'd better die out there. That way, Scarlett and I will split Grandma's inheritance.] He received no reply. With a frosty expression, my mother said, "Tell her if she shows up for her grandmother's birthday on time, I'll let the whole pushing-Scarlett-into-the-water thing go." They never believed I hadn't made it out of those woods. After digging six feet into the ground, they finally found my bones deep in the forest.

Zachary Quinn suddenly develops a fondness for going to a massage parlor after I'm discharged from the hospital—I was in an accident. He excitedly tells me that the masseuse there has the best skills he's ever experienced. "They even have free food and fruits! I bring my laptop there with me to work when I get tired at the office." I don't know why he's telling me these things. He knows my father got caught cheating at a massage parlor. I hate those places. It's only later that I learn the relaxation he describes isn't what I imagined. He's long since gone bad in places that I can't see.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

"Think it over little miss, once you fall in love with me, it's over" he said, his cold eyes shining with nothing but endless darkness and mischief. I gulped telling myself to ran away while I still can, but my stupid mouth was way too quicker than my mind. "Love? I can resist that, but can you resist my charm?" His lips curled up into a wide wicked smile as his eyes bore to mine, like he couldn't believe that I was the one who said those words. A smile that sent both shivers and excitement to my body. "Interesting" he said and handed me a pen to sign our agreements.  *********** Desperate to save herself from a sex scandal from her blackmailer, Avyanna Lark, a beautiful A lister actress in the whole country, found herself stuck with a contract marriage with a demon as her way out also a promising future in the entertainment industry.  For the past 300 years, Bohden Dauntsey, a demon who lives amongst human beings, hasn't smelled that hypnotising scent of blood. Making him go insane with the urge to have a taste of it, she was a gem and exactly what he was looking for. Not wanting to lose her to others of his own kind, he trapped her with a contract marriage only to find out that he had trapped himself instead.  Would he be able to keep his own words against the charm of a breathtaking A lister?.

Two teenagers from two different social classes discover their feelings for one another when a strange viral disease outbreak forced them to mingle in quarantine.

I DIED ON MY THIRD-YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY.. ... right when my husband ditched me for his childhood lover alongside a cruel push.. However, I found myself back on earth five weeks later, not as a ghost, but as my usual self with no memory of the past. I was also forced to believe my pregnancy belonged to my saviour, and I lived in that web of lies until I met the man my son looked exactly like -- The devil. My Ex! This time, he seems to be very different and regretful, but I will surely make him pay, especially with the memories recovery.. Ugh.. If only our son wasn't on the way!!

Elara Moretti never dreamed her wedding would feel like a funeral. Given away by the only family she’s ever known, she’s forced into a cold, loveless marriage to Mateo Navarro—the feared heir to a powerful mafia empire. He’s everything she was taught to fear: ruthless, dominant, and utterly unbothered by the tears of a wife he never wanted. In the Navarro estate, silence is survival. So Elara learns to be silent. He humiliates her in front of his mistresses. She lowers her head. He uses her as a symbol of control. She pretends not to feel. But every day in Mateo’s home chips away at the girl Elara used to be. Elara may look fragile... but something inside her refuses to break. And while Mateo rules his world with an iron fist, he’s about to learn that not every pawn stays in place. Because the most dangerous kind of woman… is the one who learns to watch, wait, and never forget.

When I was twenty-five, I made an intern my lover. If she stayed with me, I would make sure she completed her internship and help pay off her parents' gambling debts. So that sweet, innocent girl was forced to stay by my side for three years. Later, my company collapsed, and my enemies broke both my legs. I watched her and her first love gaze at each other, with tears in their eyes. I left without a word, and she never came looking for me. Later, when I was selling snacks from a stall on a busy street, she had already become the CEO of a publicly traded company, openly flaunting her love for him. The way she looked at me was cold and indifferent. I laughed at myself. "Do I look like a joke to you?" Tears rolled down her face. "I've always thought you were one."

When love is twisted by witchcraft, only destiny can break the spell. __________ “She’s ours, Zade—everything we’ve ever wanted and she’s actually here. I can’t lose her.” My voice cracked at the end. I felt ashamed. I was an Alpha and I couldn’t mark my mate. In all of history I’d never heard of such a thing. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. No one has. Everyone I had indirectly asked, who had found their mate, didn't have a problem marking their mate once they found her. So why's my case any different?