Wrapped Around Your Finger With Lyrics Novels & Stories

AVA When my mom told me she was engaged, I was genuinely happy for her. After ten years of heartbreak and loneliness, she deserved a second chance at love. What I didn’t expect was for Caden Duke to be standing at our front door. Hockey Captain of Norwell University. Rich. Arrogant. Cold-hearted. My crush! The same guy who stars in every filthy fantasy and late-night delusion I’ve ever had is about to become my stepbrother. And somehow, it gets worse. His father decides I should move into Caden’s off-campus house near the university. Now I’m stuck living with the one person I can never have. CADEN Three rules. Stay away from me. Don't touch my food. And most importantly—Get rid of that pathetic crush you have on me, your stares are becoming creepy. That was before the drunken kiss. Before I tasted her. Before Ava Delene became the only thing I could think about. Now she’s everywhere—walking through my house, sleeping a room away from mine, looking at me with those innocent eyes like she has no idea what she’s doing to me. She was supposed to be off-limits. Instead, she’s becoming my newest obsession.

After being reborn, I didn't stop my Alpha mate, Caden, from bringing home his childhood friend—Lilith. She was carrying a pup, and he wanted to take care of her. I didn't fight it. I broke the mate bond myself. Handed him exactly what he wanted. Set up every private moment between them. Then slipped out of their story. Because in my past life, even as I lay dying, Caden hated me for not letting Lilith stay with us while she was with pup. She lost it on the way out. Couldn't carry again. And Caden? He said once I was gone, he'd make it right. Be with her. Protect her. So this time, I let him. Gave them everything. Gave them everything they wanted. So why did Caden lose his mind searching the world for me—begging me to come back?

Because of her first love's piano competition, my fiancee, Ashley Blake, postpones our wedding for the 17th time seven years into our relationship. On the eve of the competition, she chops off my ring finger just because Marc Tyson claims I injured his hand and ruined his ability to compete. The pain of losing my finger leaves me crying in agony, but she simply holds him in her arms and stares me down with indifferent eyes. She says, "Stop pretending, Troy Clinton. You're a grown man. What's all this fuss over losing a finger? Besides, you merely lost one finger. Marc has lost the dream he spent his whole life chasing! This is what you owe him." Her cruel words shatter my heart into tiny pieces. She has forgotten that my fingers are also meant to dance across piano keys. "The wedding next week is postponed," she says dismissively while covering Marc's reddened fingers. She adds, "This has nothing to do with Marc. It's simply because you can't wear a wedding ring with a missing finger anyway." Clutching my bleeding hand, I finally wake up to reality. From this moment onwards, we owe each other nothing.

My husband's ex, Sarah Miller, once ditched him to chase a rich guy. When she came back, she was crippled, dragging along two scrawny kids. The day I found out I was pregnant, Jake Carter demanded a divorce. "Sarah is too weak to manage alone, and her kids need someone. I've got to step up," he said. I nodded calmly and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. In my past life, I fought to keep the baby and refused the divorce, even exposing Sarah's dirty secrets to the world. Her reputation was ruined. She became a pariah, and eventually, she took her kids and ended it all. In her blood-soaked suicide note, she blamed me for driving her to despair. Thus, Jake hated me to the core. He hired thugs to assault me, posted the video online, and spread lies that I was a cheater. In the end, he threw me and our child into the sea. As I died, he snarled, "This is what you get for killing Sarah!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he demanded a divorce. This time, I agreed on the spot. Jake was thrilled, dreaming of winning Sarah back. What he didn't know was that, in my past life, I uncovered why Sarah was dumped. Her private life was a mess, and she caught AIDS.

I am Alpha Alexander's fated mate, and I am meant to be his luna. However, no one ever discovers this secret for six whole years. Why? That was because I am a lowly Omega. Alexander Smith believes that I deliberately got him drunk and is using our child to ascend the ranks. He doesn't even let our son call him "Dad." For his sake, I shed blood and sweat for six long years. I am an Omega, yet I am working harder than any other higher-ranked werewolf. I take on every dirty, exhausting job for the sake of his pack. I take the lead and charge ahead in every dangerous mission. Until that negotiation… I fall into a trap set by an enemy pack and almost lose my life. I wait and hope desperately as I writhe in my hospital bed. My wounds heal slowly, but Alexander never comes to see me. Instead, he goes to his first love, Vivian Anderson. The day I recover, I walk into the Elders' Council and submit my request to leave the pack without hesitation.

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.

Despite Mateo making Fayra feel that he could never love her, Fayra did not lose hope. Despite the pain he had caused, she remained by his side. She accepts every emotional pain caused by their marriage, but only until that day comes. Even in her dreams, she is not prepared for this scene. A painful truth, a painful scene. Fayra's marriage was best described as tragic, causing her to grant her husband's longing for so long. But before completely cutting off their ties, Fayra begged for him. Regardless of the consequences of her action, she did not hesitate to pursue what she wanted for the last time. Full of sadness but still content, Fayra leaves peacefully without saying goodbye. And, little did he know, he had granted a wish which would carry a memory of that night that his ex-wife decided not to tell anymore.

I was in the middle of signing a contract when my phone rang. It was my younger sister, Lily Carter. Her voice was cautious, almost hesitant. “Hey… did you get divorced?” The question caught me off guard. I was about to answer when another voice suddenly cut in on her end of the line, a woman I didn’t recognize. She called out Lily’s name sharply. “Did you forget all the rules I set for you? During work hours, your only job is to serve me. Who said you could hide in the restroom?” A crisp slap echoed through the phone. “Now tell me,” the woman demanded. “What are the rules?” A second later, Lily spoke, her voice small and trembling. “First, during work hours, I have to lower myself when I speak to you. “Second, everything I earn has to be handed over to you. “Third, my phone has to stay on at all times. Whatever you say, I have to do it immediately.” The woman let out a mocking laugh. “At least you remember. One more. When we’re outside, you call me Mrs. Shaw, the boss’s wife. Make sure everyone in the company knows exactly who I am.” Hearing my sister’s quiet sobs, something inside me snapped. I immediately switched to a video call and dialed my husband, Daniel Shaw. “So,” I said coldly when he picked up, “you’ve been using your position at my company to keep a ‘wannabe Mrs.’ on the side, haven’t you?”

Black is a teenager with an illness that prevents him from seeing any colors. To add to this, whenever he interacts with people that don't have any colors, he can't feel any emotions, so he ended up isolating himself for years. After transferring schools, he meets a number of other people that he can see the colors of, and along with friendship, he finds out what each of them has kept hidden deep in their hearts.

Due to my heightened sensitivity, even the slightest touch causes an uncontrollable reaction. My husband, concerned, sends me to the hospital for treatment. As I lie on the operating table, the attending doctor unexpectedly triggers a wave of intense response from me—right in front of my husband.