Zay Flowers Crying Novels & Stories

BLURB Loud cheers and applause rang on the air. Agnes smiled widely and hugged her husband’s arm in joy. It was their wedding day, and she was so happy that she can barely contain it. Perhaps it was the feeling called above the clouds? She looked up, wanting to see the happiness in her husband’s, Leon, eyes. He was also smiling, but what contained his eyes and barely obvious intent hidden behind his smile made Agnes shudder as fear slowly showed its way inside her whole body. Her smile faded. Her husband was smiling. He was smiling with joy, not because he was happy with the wedding- he was smiling like a beast who has their prey on his foot- [CLANG!] Before Agnes knew it, the shouts of happiness were replaced by cries of despair. The claps and applause was replaced by hurtful sounds of slaps. The colorful, bright and joyous venue was replaced by dark, damp and scary room. Agnes just saw her pathetic self on the corner of that room; she was still and was looking at nowhere. She remained motionless, but in her mind, she was trembling in fear and helplessly crying in despair; “Please help me out from here!”

My name is Mark Thompson. Not long after I became a mortician, I came down with a strange condition. The moment I touch a corpse, I see their final memories play out before my eyes. It's not that I enjoy sticking my nose into other people's business. Those visions just force their way into my head. The first body my mentor ever had me restore belonged to a wealthy young man who'd been mangled in a car crash. The second I touched his shattered neck, I couldn't stop myself from saying something to the grieving family beside me. "His car didn't malfunction. The brake line was cut. "The cutters are still hidden beneath the spare tire in his wife's trunk." The crying stopped instantly, and everyone turned to stare at the woman who had been pretending to mourn. Two weeks later, she was arrested. She had hired someone to kill her husband and staged the murder as a traffic accident. After that, people from both sides of the law started lining up outside the funeral home in the middle of the night.

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back.

A comedy of errors, that offers second chances for first love in this BDSM Mafia, Reverse Harem Romance. In that moment of embarrassment, fear and dread, I do the unthinkable…….. I jump into the black clad stranger's arms, and kiss him with all the drama of a soap opera. Yes, I meant it to be for show to avoid my stalker, but .....Let’s just say it’s not all fake when I practically swoon like the well-to-do British lady I’m impersonating. “Renfield tricked me,” I pant, pointing my shaking finger at the obnoxious blonde man, literally crying, this is all so hysterical to him. “Dracula's spell is too powerful. I can't fight it, go! Go find Van Helsing!" How did this happen? Nicky! That’s right, this is all my orphan brother, Roman Nikolai Cross’ fault! Ever since that tweedle twap jerk named me after the bad luck stray cat outside our orphanage, there is no end to the comedy of errors that is my life. I was hoping to avoid the so tragic it’s funny or so funny it’s tragic stigma with my second chance on life, but no such luck with his latest shenanigans.

“Valerian!” a cry came from outside and my feet rushed to the door, my body having recognised the voice before my brain could comprehend what was happening. I yanked the door open and almost broke down crying at the sight before me, “Queen Lyla!” Bethany gasped from behind me. I scooped her into my arms, my eyes searching for any unwanted presence before rushing her into the living room. “Valerian put me down, we don’t have much time!” she rushed out the command as she struggled to get down. Silently obeying, I put her down, taking note of how she looked and it wasn’t pretty. Her hair, that was always neatly made, looked like a bird’s nest; twigs and leaves hanging from the knots. Her long white sleeping robe dirty and bloody from her waist down, she looked a royal mess; with a bunch of blankets wrapped around her upper half. “My Queen, what happened?” Beth asked as she handed me my medicine bag.

I woke up in the middle of the night to find my wife crying and begging me to let her see that young man one last time. "I’ll come right back after seeing him one last time. Please, I’m begging you." In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me in such a pleading, ingratiating tone. The last time was when I caught the kid running out of her office, his clothes in disarray. Afraid I’d make a scene, she grabbed my hand and pleaded, "Honey, I promise I’ll cut him off. Please don’t divorce me. I’ll die without you." So, I gave her another chance. Just as she promised, she devoted herself to our family, becoming the perfect wife everyone admired. Until today. I turned on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and told her seriously, "Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets." I had no regrets left. I hoped the same for you.

When I was diagnosed with terminal Inner Wolf Decay, a System found me. It told me that if I could win the wholehearted romantic or familial love of just one out of four specific werewolves, I would get a healthy body and live. But for five years, I failed to win over a single one. Because they all fell for the same Omega—the fragile, hypocritical Chloe. Just because she framed me, claiming I ordered rogues to attack her, my targets glared at me with nothing but absolute disgust. My biological brother, Caleb, told me, "I don't have a sister as vicious as you." My pack healer, Julian, didn't believe I suffered from depression. He glared at me with revulsion and said, "Chloe is the one who got hurt. Stop playing the victim." My childhood friend, Victor, stared at me coldly. "You're so toxic. I really wish you'd just die." Later, just as they wished, my mission failed, and my inner wolf was actually going to die. But then, they were the ones crying and begging me not to go.

Aria Bellini was born into bad blood. Her family name carries power, money, and enemies that never forget. Growing up in the Bellini house means secrets whispered behind closed doors, brothers raised to hate, and a life already planned out for her before she could even choose her own clothes. All Aria wants is peace. A small life. Her own space away from the violence and rivalry that has followed her family for years. So when she finally moves into her own apartment, it feels like freedom. Quiet nights. No guards. No family drama. Just her and the city. But freedom does not come alone. It starts small. A feeling of being watched. A shadow that disappears too fast. Flowers left behind that she never asked for. Lilies. Always lilies. Her favorite. Aria tells herself she is imagining things. Until the notes start coming. Until the silence around her apartment feels loud. Until fear starts sleeping beside her at night. Then there is him. The stranger who appears when she is not looking. The one who knows too much. The one who stays in the dark while her life slowly unravels. As family hatred, hidden enemies, and twisted attraction begin to clash, Aria is pulled into a dangerous game where trust is risky and love might be the most deadly thing of all. Because in a world built on revenge and control, someone is watching her. Someone who does not plan to let her go. And when blood is spilled, Aria will learn that some loves are born from hate. And some monsters fall in love too.

Don't you wish for a Cinderella kind of love story? Don't you wish to be pampered with love? Of course, everyone does wish for that. That their prince charming would come looking for them just like in Cinderella's story. It is every girl's dream and desire. But not all dreams come true. Just like in May Hayes case, A beautiful, fierce, and arrogant boss lady who wishes for a perfect love full of romance, hearts, and flowers but finds something else. A love filled with thorns. She collided with a man who pushed her butt flat on the floor but refuse to apologize claiming that it wasn't his fault but rather hers. She was enraged and so she got the man arrested unknown to her, he is her new boss. The CEO of Newman's corp, Benson Newman Thong. A rude, arrogant, and handsome billionaire whose heart is made of stone. He turned her into his slave as a way to punish her for getting him arrested. She was broken, hurt, and tortured and so she hated him But, when the breeze of love blows on her, it hits her so badly leaving her injured without letting her go unscathed. She was deeply in love with him and was torn apart between taking revenge or making him fall for her. But just like every saying, love concurs all. In the end, she chose love and managed to break into her strong boss's heart and she was able to change their stories forever. A story of hate to love. A story of determination A story of two worlds, and one soul. A story of fate. And a story of love as a sole point of unity

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."