Cracked Doll Novels & Stories

To Shawn, Shello is an innocent, well-mannered, kind, obedient, and wealthy spoiled heir. She can't do anything, especially because her life is always controlled by someone else. 'Ok, let's play the game!' Shawn thought. Until Shawn realizes she isn't someone to play with. To Shello, Shawn is an arrogant, rebellious, disrespectful, and rude low-life punk. He definitely will be a bad influence for Shello. 'But, I'll beat him at his own game!' Shello thought. Until Shello realizes he isn't someone to beat. They are strangers until one tragic accident brings them to find each other. And when Shello's ring meets Shawn's finger, it opens one door for them to be stuck in such a complicated bond that is filled with lie after lies. "You're a danger," Shello says one day when she realizes Shawn has been hiding something big in the game, keeping a dark secret from her this whole time. With a dark, piercing gaze, Shawn cracked a half-smile. Then, out of her mind, Shello was pushed to dive deeper into Shawn's world and drowned in it. Now the question is, if the lies come out, will the universe stay in their side and keep them together right to the end?

"You're a little rag doll, aren't you? You want to be tossed around, you want me to use you anyway I see fit. Because you know. . . you fucking know. . . " He thrusts so hard, pain stabs my stomach. "You're my favorite toy." **************************************************************************************** They say bad boys don't fall in love. It's even worse when said bad boy is the head of the LA mafia group. Ash Thunder is a debonair stud with multi billion dollars in his coffers from his many businesses. He's got his sights set on Alicia, a demure Latino with the face of an angel and the body of a stripper. At first, she's just someone to pass time with but he later finds he can't let go off her that easily. He's in pleasure land until someone's death drags him into the murky land of his past. He can't figure out what to do - if moving forward with Alicia will jeopardize hire safety. He tries, he really does try to protect her, but it comes at a steep cost. When someone takes up his identity and leaves a slew of dead bodies, he decides to fess up and find out, once and for all, who stands behind the mask. What he find isn't pretty. It could lead to Alicia’s death, or his. Probably both!

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.

My name is Elvira Rossi, daughter of Don Rossi, head of the Itavelle mafia family. Three months ago, my father was killed. Our operations were stripped bare, nothing left. The accounts were draining fast, and the family still had mouths to feed. Then a DNA report surfaced out of nowhere. According to it, I was the LaRosa family's long‑lost true heiress, missing for eighteen years. Money, at last, had found its way to me. For the sake of my people, I was willing to set aside my pride and play the part of a sheltered heiress. The car sent to escort me back to the estate broke down halfway up the mountain? I steadied it with one hand and carried it the rest of the way to the hilltop manor. The fake heiress dissolved into tears, accusing me of pushing her? I answered by striking the century-old tree in the courtyard, splitting it clean through. She went silent immediately. My fiancé sent bodyguards to "teach me self‑defense"? My two friends politely introduced them to the concept of being permanently embedded in a wall. As my so‑called "family" shook in fear, my knuckles cracked softly. After all, before inheriting the mafia, I inherited my father's favorite rule: "If violence can solve it, don't waste words."

At our high school reunion, my ex announced he was getting married. In the middle of the congratulations, someone piped up. “Hey, where’s Wren tonight? She didn’t show?” The whole room cracked up. “Wren? Probably still earning her keep in some rich guy’s bed.” “She dumped James for money, and now look at him. He’s the wealthiest guy in New York. Bet she’s kicking herself.” Someone snickered. “I heard the guy’s some fat old man. God, how does she even stomach it.” I broke up with James Thorne the year he loved me the most, and walked straight into the arms of another man, a man with money. Now he had a new girlfriend, he’d taken over Thorne Capital, and he was one of New York’s most talked-about young executives. He’d organized this reunion because he couldn’t wait to show off how good his life had turned out. “Enough. Drop it.” In the middle of the laughter, James spoke up. “I have a better life now. Whether Wren is dead or alive has nothing to do with me anymore.” “What if she really were dead?” The room went silent.

"Kaden, please...you can't do this to me...," my voice cracked as I sank to my knees, my heart shattering into a million pieces He stared down at me, his face hardening as disgust flickered in his eyes. "Matilda I will not repeat myself. Sign the papers and leave. You fucking disgust me," Kaden snapped, each word cutting deeper like a blade to my soul Tears streamed down my face as I watched him wrap his hand possessively around another woman, leading her straight into our matrimonial room ~~~~~~~~~ Matilda never deserved this. All she did was fall in love with the wrong man. A man who hated every single thing about her. To him, she was a burden that ruined his perfect life When Kaden could no longer stand Matilda's presence, he threw divorce papers in her face, humiliating her in front of his mistress Six years later, Matilda returns with her two identical twins, the spitting image of Kaden What happens when Kaden comes face to face with the children he never knew existed? Will Matilda let the man who shattered her heart back into their lives? Or will she protect her children from the man who not only despised her but humiliated her in ways she'll never forget?

My name is Caleb Greyson, I’m eighteen, unwanted by my parents, unwanted by God, abandoned by the only boy I ever loved—traded out like garbage for my mother’s sister.So if you’re looking for a happy love story, you will be disappointed.The university of Delaware would save me, or that’s what I thought, somewhere I could forget who I used to be.The old red buildings, beautiful towering trees, sunlight reflecting on ancient stones, everything looked perfect from the outside. Who knew pretty things could have sharp teeth?Now I’m trapped in a cracked room, with Lukas Carter, a closeted, arrogant and angry hockey player, deep in denial for a roommate.Then Tony, sweet, lonely Tony, who built his life around Lukas, gave up his whole future just to be close to Lukas. Standing in the same place for years, just waiting to be wanted.I didn’t want to get close, didn’t want to care. But we’re all slaves to loneliness. Now I’m drowning in secrets, addictions, and the wreckage of boys who only know ruin, need and the ugly parts of wanting too much from people who never promised anything.And Tyler Brown? I don’t want to talk about him.

“You murderer!” No A resounding slap followed those words from Katrina’s Mother-in-law. The entire extended family gasped in shock but no one made a move to help. Not even Katrina’s husband, Damon Winchester. He just stood there, watching lazily, like he always did while his mother berated her for every little thing. But this wasn’t little, no. This was more than the fine china dishes that were one of the family’s heirlooms which Katrina broke last thanksgiving and earned her harsh insults from her mother-in-law. This was nothing like the family dinner she made last Christmas that caused half the kitchen to catch fire, needing a renovation. This couldn't be compared to that afternoon in summer, when she knocked over an antique vase while dusting, freezing as it cracked clean down the middle and her mother-in-law murmured that Katrina’s touch spoiled anything of value. No. This was the death of the only woman who loved someone as unlovable as Katrina. The woman who raised her. The woman who constantly fought for Katrina’s place in the Winchester Family even when she didn’t belong. Alana Winchester, Damon’s grandmother. Like every other thing, it was all her fault. Everything Katrina touched turned to ashes.

Giselle He was sin dressed in Armani. The kind of man mothers warn you about and daughters dream about anyway. The moment his eyes hooked mine, I knew I was damned. Sexy, lethal, a wolf in a tailored suit—Nicholas was temptation wrapped in cruelty. Every instinct screamed run, but desire chained my feet to the fire. Our chemistry didn’t just spark—it detonated, burning through reason until I was his. But love with the devil always comes with a price. And when Nicholas shattered me, he didn’t just break my heart—he fed it to his enemies. Turns out I was never his queen. Just another pawn bleeding on his chessboard. Nicholas She was the one thing this cursed world couldn’t give me—an angel. The moment she looked at me, I claimed her. Fragile, pure, the soft to my savage. She was light, and I was hell, and somehow we collided. But angels can lie too. With her betrayal, she cracked my armor wide open. I raged, I burned, and then—she was stolen from me. Now my veins pump vengeance. My enemies will choke on their own screams for daring to touch what’s mine. Let heaven tremble and hell prepare—because I will scorch this world until my angel is back in my arms.

Back when I was young and dumb, I slapped some college guy working a side gig at a nightclub. My boyfriend had just ditched me for my best friend, Vanessa Shannon. Then, not even five minutes later, I caught her in the corner, sliding her hand under another guy's shirt. He bit his lip and just took it. Something in my brain short-circuited. I stood up and walked over. If Vanessa wanted him, why couldn't I? But the second I reached for him, he smacked my hand away. Vanessa cracked up. The whole private room turned to watch. Mortified, I slapped him. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." Later, my family went broke, and I ended up working at a nightclub just to get by. The private room was loud as hell. I lost a game, and everyone at the table started chanting for me to take my bra off. My face went hot. I stood there, completely frozen. Then a low voice cut through the noise with a cold laugh. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." I looked up. Our eyes locked. His stare was icy, full of pure mockery. It was the college guy I'd slapped years ago.