Aesthetic Peachy Novels & Stories

My mother sent me to Chicago to marry Marco Ricci. A power move. One meant to cement our family’s control of the city. After all, my grandfather was the one who put the Riccis on the map. They owed us. They were supposed to treat me like royalty. I went to the fanciest jeweler in Chicago to buy my fiancé a gift. But some broad snatched it right from me. Before I could move, the store manager was fawning all over her. “Miss Bianca! A gift from Mr. Ricci? It’s perfect on you!” Marco? My fiancé? So this was his whore. She slid the sapphire ring onto her finger and shot me a look of disgust. “Who the hell do you think you are, bitch? Trying to take what’s mine?” I didn't even look at her. I just called Marco. "Your whore has something of mine. You have three minutes. Get down to the jeweler and handle her."

I've been mated to Alpha Damon for five years. I helped him build a business empire, but he kept delaying our marking ceremony 99 times. Right before the ceremony was supposed to happen, he told me the pack’s resources were tight. He demanded I stop the expansion of the Alpha’s manor and scrapped the nursery I’d designed for our future pups. Then he turned around and bought a thirty-million-dollar penthouse for Isabella, a new omega in our pack. When Isabella and I were in a car crash at the same time, he didn't even glance my way. He ran straight to her. He wrapped her in his Alpha scent, holding her tight. Their scents mingling was like a knife to my heart. In the pack council hall, in front of all the Elders, I looked at him with ice in my eyes. "I, Elena, reject you, Damon, as my mate." Through the gut-wrenching pain of the mate bond snapping, I sent a message to the Alpha of another pack. "I rejected him. I'll be at your Crescent Moon Pack tomorrow."

I took my newborn son to my husband’s mafia compound for his christening. His ten-year-old niece, Bianca—the Family’s spoiled little princess—pushed my baby’s stroller straight into the deep end of the freezing pool. My son sank to the bottom. The clinking of champagne glasses drowned out his final struggles. I dove in like a madwoman. But I only pulled out a cold, lifeless body. Because Bianca was "Family blood," the murder was ruled a tragic accident. My father-in-law, the Don, handed me a limitless black card as "compensation." But I didn't want money. I wanted my son. I wanted my Nico! I dropped to my knees. I begged my husband, Matteo, to avenge our baby. Instead, he just held his crying niece and looked at me with dead eyes. "Mandy, she’s just a child. Are you going to destroy one life over a mistake?" Denied my vengeance, I wasted away in our penthouse that long winter, dying a broken woman. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the christening. My husband’s arm was wrapped around my waist. His hot kisses trailed down my neck. "Our boy will be blessed by the priest today." I shoved him away instantly. I called my personal guards. I had them rush my son safely to my family's estate. But later that day, a tiny body still floated in the pool.

I was eight months pregnant, at a charity gala with my husband, Don Massimo, when a rival family hit us. The crowd panicked. I was shoved to the floor, hard. Blood everywhere. Massimo lost his mind, screaming for medics, desperate to save my baby. But when I woke up, they were gone. Both of them. No baby, no Massimo. I remembered the gunfire, Massimo shielding me with his body. A cold dread washed over me. I hauled myself into a wheelchair and raced down the hall. That’s when I heard them—Massimo and the doctor. "Boss, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The baby… he didn't make it." Tears streamed down my face. They killed my baby. The rival family killed my baby. But his next words shattered my world. "There was only one medical team. I had to make a choice. Bianca… she was carrying my child, too." Massimo sighed, then gave the order. "No one tells Arabella. She'll raise Bianca's son as her own. He will be my only heir." I slapped a hand over my mouth, my vision blurred by tears as I turned away. The man I loved was a lie. Fine. If he wants a war, he'll get one.

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.

In the Santoro family, there was one rule: the heir marries a daughter from another powerful Family. But Alessio Santoro was crazy. He wanted to marry me, a nobody from a flower shop. He knelt in the family chapel for ten days straight. He even took a bullet fired by his own father, the Don. All just to walk away from his title and run away with me. I held him, crying, begging him to stop. He just smiled and kissed my eyes, wiping my tears. "Don't cry, Thea. As long as I can marry you, it's all worth it." In the end, the Santoros relented. But they had one condition: Alessio would still produce the next heir. Just not with me. He had to have a son with Aurelia Rossi. So I endured. I endured listening to them through the wall, night after agonizing night. I endured the smell of her perfume on his skin, the sight of her marks on his neck every time he kissed me. A year later, Aurelia got pregnant. It was a girl. Alessio begged me, his eyes red. "Just a little longer, Thea." So I waited another year. Finally, news came. Aurelia was pregnant with a boy. I thought we could finally leave, finally be free. But then disaster struck. Aurelia’s daughter had a sudden, violent allergic reaction. Everyone blamed me. They threw me in the cellar and left me to die. And Alessio? He believed them. This time, I was the one who gave up. I walked away from everything.

I carried my fated mate’s pup. Alpha Seth’s pup. But for twelve years, he refused to claim me. I was his secret. His personal healer. Nothing more. He never even let our son, Leo, call him “Dad.” All because he hated that fate chose an “impure” mate like me. He claimed I drugged him, that I trapped him with a child. He ditched our son's First Howl for another woman. A powerful Beta named Sarah. That was the last straw. I rejected him. I took our son and ran. They say the proud Alpha lost his mind. That the pain of rejection tore him apart, and he hunted us like a madman. But there’s no going back. There is no forgiveness.

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to secure the walls. Then he sat in silence, cradling Chloe’s bones. He pretended he wanted to start over with me. He let me get pregnant with his child. The day I gave birth, he knocked me unconscious and dumped me into a nearby zombie nest. He always rescued me just before I died. He’d inject me with a serum that kept me from turning. Nineteen times, he threw me to the zombies. I died in agony as they tore the flesh from my bones. "If you hadn't sabotaged my defenses," he’d hissed, "if you hadn't crashed our party and led the horde right to us, Chloe would still be alive!" I opened my eyes. I was back. Christmas Eve.

It was a full moon, and my mate, Alpha Ethan, bailed on our son's coming-of-age ceremony rehearsal. All because his Omega mistress, Scarlett, was in heat. Then, during the actual ceremony, our son Caleb was ambushed by a rival pack. By the time I heard the news, Caleb had been shot. He was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood. I knelt beside him, completely breaking down, when Ethan's voice, faking an apology, came through the mind link: "Sorry, Scarlett needs me. I'm sure Caleb can handle things. Just make sure Caleb gets some rest early, don't let him run around and mess up tomorrow's celebration." I looked at my son's broken body, my voice trembling, "He won't be running anywhere anymore." "Good," Ethan said, sounding pleased. "Scarlett's bloodline is purer. She's better suited to give the Stone Pack strong heirs. You should understand." I cut the link. After I committed my son's body to the flames, I found the secret ritual to break a mate bond and contacted a wolf I hadn't spoken to in a long, long time: "The protection wards on Stone Pack territory are down. You can make your move."