Low Self-esteem Characters Novels & Stories

Viviana Bellini was a free spirit who loved unconditionally and thought she had found her prince charming who was a mafia until he slept with her supposed best friend and cast her away, now that she is betrayed she swears to return and get her revenge but on reaching her home, she finds out that she had been arranged to a cold mafia don. But instead of staying in the house like the good wife her father wanted her to be, Viviana decided to go into the wild. Raffaele Conte was a man who was cold, calm and a silent assassin who could get blood on his face without even batting an eyelash, he never smiled and he never cried, people called him the cold sculpture until he met Viviana who seemed to show him another color that is not black. But Viviana is not all that meets the eyes and Raffaele has his own secrets. Would these two people navigate into a love unquenchable when the secret is revealed? Or will their various quests tear them apart and make them enemies?

"Do I feel like I need someone to warm me up?" He asked in a low voice. He had sat up, and suddenly, they were very, very close. "No," I whispered, staring at my hand that stubbornly attached itself to his chest. I had spent hours touching him, trying to find the worst injuries and treating them. But being face to face, where I could count each individual lash on his eyes, felt kind of intimate. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heart if I concentrated hard enough. Without thinking, I stroked his skin softly. He breathed in sharply, and I felt the shudder that ran through him. I felt like I was barely breathing at this point. If I inhale too sharply, something in the air would just snap. "I must admit," He said in a low voice as though it was some kind of confession, "If anyone had ever told me you would be my final undoing, I would never have agreed to allow you become my son's nanny." *** When the ruthless billionaire finds himself falling for the single mother that's supposed to be the nanny of his son, he expects history to repeat itself again. (Possessive, obsessed, nanny, strong female lead, dominating male lead)

🔥Her mate abandoned her for her sister. His dangerous brother decided to keep her.🔥 Olivia Reed's one-sided love for Eric ended in public humiliation when he ditched her at the airport during the camp trip for another woman-her own sister. Alone and exposed, she wished the earth would swallow her whole. Then a voice, dark and luring, cut through the air: "She's with me." It was Killian Roosevelt. Eric's estranged brother. Where Eric is false sunshine, Killian is all brooding danger, tattoos, and deadly allure. He wasn't part of her plan. Neither was sharing a room together. Now, forced into close proximity with the one man her husband hates most, Olivia is about to discover that sometimes salvation comes from the most forbidden place... And it looks damn good in leather. ~~~~~~ This is a dark, steamy standalone werewolf romance with themes of revenge, secrets, possession, and healing. Reader discretion is advised due to mature content and triggering themes, including violence and abuse, etc. 🔞

Ivy's world is turned upside down when her luggage is mixed up with a man's at the airport - a man she comes to learn his name as Tarquin Brian Jones. He proposes a contract marriage, and Ivy is thrust into a new and complicated life. As their relationship develops and the tension between them grows, Ivy finds herself fighting to show Tarquin that she is more than he sees her. But with the presence of Tarquin's mistress and his sister, Morgan, who holds a grudge against her, Ivy is faced with difficult choices. Would she cling to hope that everything will change for her good or give up hope?

I've gotten into an accident. When my childhood friend, Jason Patel, drops by to visit me, I feel like pulling a prank on him all of a sudden. So, I ask, "Who are you? I've lost my memory." He's left feeling stunned for a moment before he reveals the fake smile that he often wears whenever he pulls pranks on others. "I'm your boyfriend, Jason Patel." My heart begins pounding wildly in my chest. I decide to go along with this little prank. That summer of us playing pretend has to be the happiest time of my life. But when Giselle Ford returns to our lives, Jason immediately clears the air between us. It turns out that he and Giselle have had a crush on each other during their high school days. Unfortunately, they missed the chance to date each other. What am I to them, then? So, I can only grant their wish of wanting to stay together. That's why I laugh and call Jason out for being an idiot because he can't even tell that I faked my memory loss. Unexpectedly, I get into another accident some time later. When I wake up, I ask Jason who he is again. Impatience flickers across his expression. "Don't you feel lame for using the same trick twice?" What he doesn't know is that I've truly lost my memory this time.

The Lighthouse at Black Hollow The storm came in without warning. One moment the sea beyond Black Hollow was silver and calm, and the next it was a heaving wall of iron-gray waves crashing against the cliffs. Wind screamed through the narrow streets, slamming shutters and rattling doors like impatient fists. Sixteen-year-old Mara Ellison stood at her bedroom window, heart pounding—not from the thunder, but from the light. It had flashed three times. Not lightning. The lighthouse. The old lighthouse had been dark for years.

I worked overtime until the early morning hours and called my driver to pick me up. She frowned the entire ride. "You go home so late every night, and you always have me pick you up. You have no consideration for others." I found her comment baffling. "Wasn't all of this made clear when I hired you? The job requires you to be available at all times, and your salary is generous." "What exactly are you trying to say?" Chloe Morrison's tone turned reproachful and condescending. "I'm concerned about you, obviously. What good man goes home at dawn every day? You're probably fooling around outside. A man should conduct himself properly. You should get off work earlier and go home to do housework and cook. That's how you win a girl over." Her words irritated me, and my tone turned sharp. "Ms. Morrison, you're just a driver. You're not anyone to me. Don't overstep."

My stepmother—my father's new mate—demanded the code to the safe. The safe that held my mother’s moonstone amulet. I ignored her. I was too busy preparing for the pack's centennial blessing ceremony. Not long after, she sent a second text: "Since you wouldn't reply, I had someone force it open. The stone is way too big, though. I'm having it cut down so it looks good on me." I dropped the candlestick, shifted, and tore off toward home. But I was too late. The moonstone lay shattered in the middle of the living room. Its lunar warmth was gone. Heartbroken, I roared, "That belonged to my mother! How dare you touch it?" Livia lounged on the sofa, lazily filing her nails. She didn't even bother to look up. "I needed a necklace to match my dress for tomorrow. You didn't text back, so I handled it myself. Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic? Do you know what that was? It wasn't just my mother's, it was—" Boom. Alpha aura slammed into me like a mountain. My legs gave out instantly. My father—Marcus, the Alpha of our pack—stood before me. His golden wolf eyes shrank with fury. "Your mother has been dead for twenty years! Why do you keep bringing her up just to upset Livia? Show some respect to your Luna!" I stared at them, fighting the agony tearing through my wolf. Livia let out a bored yawn. My father shot me a look of pure disgust. Hands shaking, I let out a cold laugh. They had no idea. That amulet wasn't just my mother's legacy. It was the pack’s only conduit to the Moon Goddess for the centennial ceremony. Without it, the entire pack was doomed.

In the dark of night, they come to life. Whispers through haunted tombs. Cackles beneath a dreaded moon. Malevolent spirits from the twisted mind. Be mindful of whose door you knock on. A reaper may greet you. For those that care of Halloween scare, abandon intent and take the dare.

After I get off work from the hospital, I decide to exercise by taking my mountain bike out on a ride. However, that's when I find out that the seat of my mountain bike has been lowered. There's even a blue sticky note with a scribbled heart pasted on the bike handle. I call my wife, Sabrina Yellin. "Who took my bike on a ride?" After a few seconds of silence, Sabrina replies nonchalantly, "Kelly's boyfriend wanted to learn how to ride a mountain bike yesterday, so he practiced a few laps with your bike. What's wrong, though? Is the bike damaged in any way?" Kelly's boyfriend? But he had boasted about going on an overseas vacation for one whole month last week on his social media account. My gut feeling tells me that something's fishy about this whole thing. So, I just curl my lips into a smirk. "Nah. He can keep using it." After that, I push the mountain bike back to its original parking slot. Then, I find myself two needles so that I can insert them into the seat. Three days later, when I'm working the night shift at the hospital, a nurse rushes in hurriedly. "Dr. Hart, there's a male patient in the ER right now. He claims that his crotch was stabbed by needles when he was riding his bike earlier."