When They Cry Novels & Stories

Rocco Falcone, who is the Falcone family's Don and my so-called husband, hangs up on me for what feels like the 99th time. Having been diagnosed with leukemia, I haul my ravaged body into the family lawyer's office. "I'm here to file for a divorce," I said. … When Rocco hears about it, he barges in with my family ten minutes later. The moment he enters, he slaps me. "Did you use the emergency line just to ruin Sofia's big night? Are you out of your mind?" Lily Marone, my mom, snatches the diagnosis right out of my hand and skims through it. She chuckles dismissively. "Did you fake being sick just to get attention? How many lies have you told since you were a kid, Claire?" Sofia Moretti holds Rocco's arm with tears in her eyes. "Forgive me, Claire. I shouldn't have taken the position. Please stop hurting yourself and Rocco." I wipe the blood from my mouth and turn back to the lawyer. "I have no family left. Please hurry with the divorce paperwork. I need it settled before my cremation in three days."

I was the biological daughter of the Stone Family. With my gossip-tracking system, I played the part of a meek, obedient girl on the surface, but underneath, I would strike hard when it counted. What I didn't realize was that someone could hear my every thought. "Even if you're our biological sister, Alicia is the only one we truly acknowledge. You need to understand your place," said my brothers. 'I must've broken a deal with the devil in a past life to end up in the Stone Family this time,' I figured. My brothers stopped dead in their tracks. "Alice is obedient, sensible, and loves everyone in this family. Don't stir up drama by trying to compete for attention." I couldn't help but think, 'Well, she's sensible enough to ruin everyone's lives and loves you all to the point of making me nauseous.' The brothers looked dumbfounded.

My name is Lena, and until last week, my biggest worry was the late return fees at the library where I work. I was ordinary, invisible, and I liked it that way. Then a pack of rogue werewolves attacked me in a dark alley, and two monsters saved my life—or so I thought. The first was Caspian, a vampire prince carved from ice and centuries of solitude. His gaze held no warmth, yet when he looked at me, something ancient and hungry flickered in his eyes. The second was Kael, the Alpha of the Northern pack, all burning muscles and wild possessiveness. He took one sniff of my skin and declared me his “mate” without a second thought. Now I’m caught between a cold, opulent castle and a warm, chaotic pack territory. Caspian’s touch sends shivers down my spine, while Kael’s fierce protection makes me feel safe for the first time in years. They are sworn enemies, bound by a blood feud older than any city, yet both refuse to let me go. But the real danger isn’t their rivalry. Strange things are happening to my body—I can hear thoughts, heal faster, and the full moon sings to my blood. I’m not just a human caught between two worlds. I am the last of the Hybrid Blood, a forgotten lineage that could either unite the species or destroy them all. And the one who controls me, controls the night.

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

I gave Julian Kane everything: my family’s connections, my clients, my lawyers, my money, and even the Manhattan office his company called home. For five years, I let him build his empire on my back. Then his new intern accused me of skipping work and stealing company money. She wanted my title, my clients, my office, and the black card that opened the most powerful doors in New York. Julian knew the truth, but he still let the whole company shame me. So I handed over the card. They thought I was finished, but they forgot one thing: the card was mine, the building was mine, the clients were mine, and the name they mocked was Moretti. If they wanted to call me a thief, I would show them exactly what they had stolen. If they wanted to drag me into the spotlight, I would let the whole city watch them fall. I didn’t come back to beg. I came back to collect.

Think of this as a cyberpunk Bridget Jones’ Diary, if Bridget were a self-destructive tech refugee with a cocaine habit and a holographic archangel for a conscience. This is adarkly comedic character studyset in a near-future that feels just a few software updates away. It’s a story about addiction, both chemical and digital, and the messy, painful, and sometimes hilarious struggle to reclaim your own messy life from the algorithms designed to “optimize” it. At its heart, it’s the story of the most dysfunctional friendship imaginable: between a woman who is her own worst enemy, and the godlike AI she reprogrammed to be her partner-in-crime. It’s raw, it’s visceral, and it explores whether real connection can be found once you’ve burned all your bridges, and broken your operating system.

I’m about to enter a blood bond with another vampire lord. But my partner of a century, Kaelan, has no idea. He’s too busy getting cozy with his new human assistant, Sylvia. They spend entire nights in his office, under the guise of “researching synthetic blood.” He even turned our centennial anniversary into her birthday party. In front of everyone, Kaelan presented her with a Black Forest cake decorated with Silver Bells. They laughed, smearing frosting on each other. They forgot the flowers are a deadly poison to me. My power shattered. Agony ripped through me as shadows lashed out, uncontrollable. My family’s guards had to drag my convulsing body away. And while I recovered alone in the cold, dark vault, Kaelan was still at the party, bathing in the cheers for him and Sylvia. The blood in my veins turned to ice. A century of love and hope burned to ash. In that moment, I agreed to my family's arrangement. Without hesitation. A union with the lord of the Obsidian Throne—a vampire they say is power incarnate.

"I'm so sorry for not fulfilling what you and your packs truly desire, Nathan. I love you. Truly am. But I did not expect my death would be the only solution in exchange to achieve that dream." Ellen continued sobbing as she tried to remove Nathan's grasp away from her. Nathan, on the other hand, kept his grasp tighter, having no plan to let go of Ellen no matter what. He had regretted letting her go in the past. This time, the only thing that remained real was Ellen. Their forbidden love story has undergone a few obstacles, even reaching the point they have disobeyed their wolf's principles. "Ellen, even if she makes me happy, my heart, body, and soul always long for you. But I have to uphold and ratify my name and the pack. She needs me. My pack needs me." "How am I supposed to understand and accept the truth that you are no longer mine, Ghino?" To Nathan's surprise, Ellen wrapped her arms around him.

At two in the morning, when the pack elders' urgent summons came, I had just crawled out from beneath my childhood sweetheart, the Alpha heir Slade. My body was still aching from his rough possession. As the only human healer in the entire Blackwood Pack, I was ordered to prepare herbs as a gift for Slade's marriage alliance with the Thorne Pack. I gently lifted Slade's arm from where it was wrapped around me. After a night of passion, his powerful Alpha body was still radiating a feverish heat. I assumed this was just another wolf princess he needed to turn away, so I poked his chest playfully and asked with a smile, "Slade, what excuse are you going to use the 99th time? That you've suddenly developed an allergy to the princess?" He rolled over and kissed my forehead, his eyes heavy with sleep. "My sweet girl, this time the herbs must be prepared by you, and you alone. The success of this alliance rests on your shoulders." I froze. For the past ten years, I had been his secret solace, the one who soothed his violent rages every night. I thought I would earn a formal bonding ceremony, sooner or later. But in that moment, I understood. I was just a convenience, a body for him to use. If that was all I was to him, then I would burn everything we had to the ground. I made a call to my old mentor at the National Institute of Medicine, Professor Sterling. "Professor, that research position regarding gene... is it still open? I'm ready to return to the human world." But when that arrogant Alpha, who claimed we were 'just friends' and 'strictly professional,' discovered he could no longer catch even a faint scent of me in the air, he completely lost his mind.

At a banquet, Winona Quinton’s stocking got snagged on something. I moved to take her to the dressing room, only to see her male assistant reaching under her skirt. I grabbed his wrist. “What does my wife’s torn stocking have to do with you?” However, Winona shoved me away. “Stop overreacting,” she snapped. “Corey has even changed my underwear before. It’s just stockings.” That night, news of the attentive assistant caring for his female CEO went viral. By the end of the event, I was gone, leaving my resignation letter with the assistant. Upon receiving it, Winona threw it aside. “Jared Strathmore has gone too far. Get him here immediately!” I returned—this time with freshly drafted divorce papers in hand.