Novelas y relatos de Christmas Zelda

The seventh time Claire Fisher bailed on our marriage license appointment, I finally cut her out of my life—for good. From then on, if she was at a party, I wasn't. When she was scheduled to perform at our college's anniversary celebration, I made sure to leave early. The moment my company announced a collaboration with hers, I resigned without a second thought. Even on Christmas Eve, when she showed up at my parents' house with gifts, I slipped out with a half-hearted excuse about "visiting a friend." I blocked her number. Deleted her from my contacts. Burned every bridge and salted the earth behind me. No calls. No texts. No social media. I didn't reach out. She couldn't reach me. Simple as that. For the better part of my life, I was hopelessly in love with her—waiting on her, caring for her, putting her first in every way that mattered. I gave her all of me without ever holding back. But after the seventh time she left me sitting alone at the City Hall, something inside me broke. I was done. If that meant spending the rest of my life alone, so be it. Better that than sitting in an empty apartment, listening to the silence, holding on to hope for someone who never planned to show up.

I was Don Victor’s secret wife for five years, hidden away like a dirty little secret. He made me a promise. Give him an heir, and he’d show me to the world. I’d be the Donna everyone envied. But there was a catch. A lie. His doctor told me I was barren. Victor held me while I sobbed, kissing my face. "Baby, we can still do IVF. I want a child from you. Only you." So I took the pain. Five years. 999 needles. I was finally pregnant on Christmas Day. I ran to his office to share the news, only to find him buried deep inside another woman. Julia. A Mafia princess from another family. The betrayal hit me. I turned to leave, tears in my eyes, but then I heard a truth I couldn't escape. "Don't you worry, my princess. The baby in Maria's belly? It's ours. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel." My hand trembled. I backed away, silent. Then I made a call. A lawyer. "I don't care what it costs. I want a divorce from Don Victor."

Hey guys! This is Ellie. I have a question for you. What is Love? Can anyone explain? If yes, then what is the difference between Love and Unconditional Love? Confusing right? Then allow me to take you to my life journey, that could give you perfect answers. * A soul in the universe, asked God to incarnate it as a human being in order to experience human emotions and enjoy the beauty of the earth. God agrees and turns that soul into twin flames by splitting it into two halves. They are Alexander and Ellie. They share the same soul, but have different bodies. Belle and Ellie become best friends in college. One day, Belle invites Ellie to her home for Christmas holidays for which she agrees. It's then Ellie meets her twin flame Alexander. At the first sight itself, they feel some strange bond but they ignore it. When Ellie gets a call from her home, with heavy heart, she leaves for her hometown which is in the countryside. Crazy feelings starts blooming between the couple leaving them perplexed, curious and attract like a moth to a flame. * Now it's high time to meet two people from two different backgrounds, with slightly similar personality, and different ideologies. Get ready to get caught by the flames of a story that could melt hearts.

“I know you want me in jail, but I want you in my bed.” Every man and woman Ángel meets disappears. Their severed finger arrives first, like a pretty little Christmas gift, wrapped in silk and presented in box filled with silent promises from his stalker. Castle, Mafia heir. Executioner. Obsessed beyond reason. He doesn’t send threats. He sends bodies. Because no one touches what belongs to him. No one tastes what he’s claimed. And if they try? They bleed for it. At sixteen, Ángel Di Cristina lost everything. His father—an FBI agent—was closing in on the Mafia when a brutal massacre left his parents dead. But that night, one masked man went rogue. He killed his own allies, marked Ángel with a scar, and disappeared. For years, Ángel hunted him. And now, he’s closer than ever. But Castle doesn’t play by rules. He never had. What he wanted, he got. He bends Ángel, fills his whole life with the thought of him. He whispers filthy things against his throat while pressing a knife to his pulse. Run? Hide? Fight? Useless. Because Castillo doesn’t just want to own Ángel. He wants to ruin him. And the worst part? Ángel is ready to let him.

We were stuck on the highway in the middle of the Christmas travel rush. My husband’s childhood friend had not only taken the passenger seat from me, but she had also propped her bare feet up on the center console. “Don’t take it to heart, Yvonne. I’m just a casual person and like to be my true self, unlike you and your fake propriety,” Michelle Gail said. As she spoke, she snatched my phone right out of my hand and read a holiday greeting from a male colleague aloud. “Oh, you have quite a few backup options, don’t you? I bet you cheated on Charles a long time ago.” My husband, Charles Carter, however, only defended her. He said, “She’s just being casual. Don’t be so petty as to hold it against her.” I smiled. They did not know that I had accidentally been bound with a system before. As the system had bound the wrong person, it promised to fulfill one wish for me unconditionally as compensation. Without a moment of hesitation, I swapped the system for the “Forget Common Sense System” and bound it to Michelle. Since she was so “casual,” why would she need a sense of shame? Why would she even need to wear clothes? Since the highway was so congested, she might as well go for a wild run on the road!

On Christmas people should be with their loved ones in the safety of their homes, but I don't have any loved ones, and I'm in the one place that I hate, where I swore never to come back, afraid that I'll get even more broken, and it seems that the more I try to get away, the more obstacles I encounter. "I know a shop not very far from here, and they have the best mechanics in town. If you want, I could come with you and give you directions, I'm heading that way anyway, and for your kindness, I'll make your biggest wish come true," Said the old crazy Santa that jumped in front of my car out of nowhere. "Can you teleport me from here? In another city, country, even on a deserted island? Anywhere but here?" I know that it wasn't nice of me to be sarcastic, but he's the reason why I have to prolong my say here. "No." His short answer was said in an amused tone of voice, but I don't find anything funny right now. "But that's just because that's not your biggest wish." He states it as a fact as if he's never been more sure of anything in his life. I bite my tongue and pray that I won't see the two people I used o love the most, and which now, I despise the most, the two people responsible for my nightmares and my broken being.

Eight years into marriage, and Fabian's mom finally gave me and my son her stamp of approval. Invited us to spend Christmas in his hometown. My son—Luca--and I were hyped. We picked out a gift for her and hit the road with Fabian. Right as we pulled into the village, Fabian's old friend called—crying, claiming she'd crashed her car. Fabian panicked. Left me and Luca in some random snowy mountain town and sped off. It was pitch black. Snow dumping down. Then Luca screamed. He'd stepped on a trap and dropped into a pit. Blood everywhere. I called Fabian, totally panicked. He goes, "Stella, Roxana's in a wreck. I need to be with her. Stop making everything a competition." Then he hung up. Blocked me. No time to fall apart. I wiped my face, called an ambulance. Too far out. By the time they got there, Luca was already gone. Cold. Broken. Gone. I held him and screamed until my lungs gave out. Meanwhile, Roxana's posting in the social media. All smiles in Fabian's arms. His face soft. Loving. [Highway jam turned into truth or dare. One word—"accident"—and he came flying. So happy.] I exhaled. Tagged Fabian. [Let's get a divorce.] This joke of a marriage should've ended forever ago.

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a crumpled, torn scrap of paper. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.

Stella's heart soared at the thought that only her son would be returning home for the Christmas holiday. It was a dream come true for her, one she had been looking forward to. Her heart was filled with sheer bliss until the moment she laid eyes on Trevor after five years, standing by the door with her son. The object of her wildest fantasies and long hidden secret. Trevor, in the flesh, with that knowing, seductive smile on his face that makes her thighs throb with desire. Stella scolded herself for even entertaining such sinful and forbidden thoughts, knowing that he was her son's best friend. But her body, her traitorous body, reacted instinctively to his presence, every part of her awakened by his mere gaze."Stop it, Stella!" she scolded herself again. "This is wrong."But she couldn't help it. Trevor had a way of making her feel alive, and the knowledge that he would be spending two weeks in her home only added to her inner turmoil. One look, one smile, one touch from him, and she was already trembling with desire. She knew it was wrong, but it felt so right.God help her, knowing that these two weeks with Trevor would be a tempting disaster waiting to happen. But she couldn't resist the allure of his presence, and she feared that her deepest secret would be unraveled in the process, turning her world upside down.

During the holiday season, a flood hits. The company's warehouse is submerged up to the third floor. Due to the emergency, I have my assistant tell everyone to come back a day early to help. I promise that the company will provide stipends and extra time off to make up for this. But on that day, a Gen Z employee goes live across the internet to report me. "Oh, my God. It's 2025, yet there are still companies forcing employees to adjust their time off and work overtime! Is this heartless boss so broke that she needs to exploit us like this? Will she die if she doesn't squeeze us out of every drop of usefulness? Company notices override the law. Impressive stuff, this is!" Soon, the company ends up on the trending list due to criticism from the online community. Even the regulators come knocking to hold us accountable. In the end, the company is forced to cancel the notice. A lot of equipment isn't salvaged in time, resulting in significant losses. The employee even posts a victory lap. "Give the boss a tiny lesson—see if she dares to force overtime again!" I'm so angry that I laugh out loud. I tell my assistant to cancel the annual benefit we give all employees—an entire month of paid time off for Christmas and the New Year holidays. If we have to stick strictly to the law, then fine. Have it your way!