Newborn Uncontrollable Crying Novels & Stories

After her boyfriend had an affair with her sister, Lani was deeply hurt and, at the advice of her best friend, decided to marry a strange guy as revenge. She married Kane, an ordinary office worker with a handsome appearance who took care of cooking and cleaning at home while she pursued her acting career. Life with Kane was relatively peaceful, and they grew close and sweet, like a genuine couple. However, one day, Lani discovered Kane's true identity as the wealthiest billionaire in the city. Unable to accept this deception, Lani leaves without a word, accepting a role as the lead actress in a movie and moving to another city, cutting off all contact with Kane. At this point, upon realizing Lani's disappearance, Kane felt deep regret and sadness. He relentlessly searched for Lani to explain everything. When he coincidentally ran into Lani on the street, Kane slowly followed her back to the hotel, holding her hand and crying, begging Lani for forgiveness, even kneeling to express his remorse. "Baby, I'm so sorry. You can hit me or scold me if you want, but please don't leave me." Everything happened unexpectedly and was chaotic, so what decision will Lani make?

WARNING— 18+ READ WITH CAUTION Slowly stroking her again he leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead. "Just calm down Kitten. No more crying." He extended a hand using it to wipe the tears that laid on her cheeks. Seeing them there didn't set right with him, she was suppose to be writhing in pleasure not crying in pain. "Do you not trust me?" Celeste nodded holding onto him for dear life. "I do." "Then spread your legs wider Kitten." **** Celeste always thought her life would change for the better, the future she had foreseen was one like no other; a mate that would love away her pain, a mate that would see only her, breathe only her. However, when she found herself mated to Zillon Macre; her life long crush as well as the future alpha of her pack, her dream remained just that, a dream. Her life did not change in the way she wanted it to, instead of better, it changed for the worst. Her insignificance didn't dissipate, it augmented, and somehow it left her being unwanted... By her pack members... Her family... And lastly by her mate who only craved for her twin sister.

The day I gave birth, so did Lily Jasper—the underprivileged student I had been sponsoring. But her baby didn’t survive. Afterward, my husband, Carter Scott, insisted on making Lily my son’s godmother. From that moment on, she was everywhere—always butting into my parenting. Whether I was disciplining my son or buying him clothes, Lily never missed a chance to chime in with her opinions. Years later, when my son took his college entrance exams, I helped him choose a major that matched his scores. But Lily pushed hard for him to apply to Merika State or Haven State University instead. In the end, he listened to me and got into a suitable college. Then his acceptance letter came. And everything fell apart. That day, he caused a car accident. My accident. He stepped out of the car, walked over, and kicked me a few times as I lay helpless on the ground. His face was full of disgust as he spat, “You actually thought you were my mom?” His voice was cold. “You’ve made my real mom cry over and over because of you. “You were never family. My real parents and I—we’re family. You? You were just in the way. “But it's over now. Finally...” He smiled cruelly. “We can be together—the real family.” And in that moment, I finally understood. Lily didn’t lose her baby that day. She killed my newborn son and swapped him with hers. Everything went dark. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I gave birth.

The Thornes built their aromatherapy business generations ago, but their ancestors made a fatal mistake and brought down a divine curse. For ninety-nine generations, every Thorne heir drew their punishment on their eighteenth birthday. Julian Thorne was the last. He drew the worst punishment: death from hemorrhage in ten months. The only way to break it was to marry a witch from the Old Bloodline and complete the life transference ritual. The witch inscribes a sigil on a parchment and infuses the child's blood essence on it, and the curse transfers to the parchment. I was that witch. My family owed the Thornes a blood debt going back three generations, so I married Julian, gave him a child, and performed the ritual to save his life. I was terrified of missing the ritual window, so I didn't even use anesthesia as the baby was cut out of my womb. However, Julian drove ninety-nine soul spikes into my body while I was still bleeding from the delivery, then set me on fire. "Miriam is the real heir. You're nothing but a fraud who wanted to marry up. "You drove her into the wilderness to protect your position. She went into labor alone and died with the baby. Even dying, she thought of me. She finished the ritual and saved my life. "You deceived my father. I'm destroying your soul. You'll pay for what you did to them." He ignored my screaming while he drained our newborn's blood essence. I watched helplessly as my child's life faded. Then I was nailed to a cross and burned until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes, I was back on my wedding day.

The evening wind and tranquility wiped away all the chaos that had been filling my mind for the preceding few days. It felt as though I had been granted a second opportunity at life, akin to that of a newborn kid. I'd always wanted to feel that way for so long, and that night was a very captivating time for me to begin with. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the breeze brush against my skin as I relived all the horrific events that had occurred. All the turmoil that seemed to escape reappeared in an instant. Tears rush down my cheeks as I feel my body shudder as a dreadful understanding dawns on me. It feels as if every second of my existence has been squandered, and as if the sense of despair and worry has taken over the little strand of sanity that exists for me as it pours through my veins and fills my spirit to the core. "You've got this. All you have to do is think that you can," I said to myself persuasively. "You can't, you just can't. You'll never be able to do it, and you'll have to live with the repercussions for the rest of your life," a familiar voice said. My senses begin to be overpowered by numbness. And with that, I realized I could not go away. The reality that this is my fate hits me like a ton of bricks. As I stretched out to wipe away all my tears, I felt thick moisture on my fingers and was terrified to find blood instead of tears. I felt as if my world was spinning before I could even scream. Then, all of a sudden, darkness crept inside me. And eventually sends me to oblivion.

On Mount Olympus, one law is ironclad: a god must never fall in love with a mortal. But Aresios, the God of War and heir to the King of the Gods, bound his very soul to mine. For me, he endured ninety-nine bolts of divine lightning and knelt before the Olympian altar for three days and three nights. Ichor soaked his armor, yet he smiled and kissed my lips. "Elara, don't be afraid. I want only you." The gods finally relented, on one condition: he had to leave behind a pure-blooded divine heir. After that, the words I heard most from Aresios were, "Just wait a little longer." The first time, it was to wait while he bedded another goddess. He and Cassia, the Goddess of Fate, lay together for thirty nights, until his golden ichor quickened in her womb. The second time, he told me to wait. Their first child was a girl, unable to inherit his divine mantle. The gods demanded a son. So he lay with Cassia for another ninety-nine nights, until she once again conceived a divine child. Just when I thought the ordeal was over, their newborn daughter was struck by Hydra's venom. The entire divine realm was convinced I had done it. As I was thrown into a cold bronze cage by the river Cocytus, Aresios stood outside the door, his eyes crimson. "You know what Hydra's venom does to an infant god. Why would you harm our daughter?" That one word. Our daughter. I was too numb to feel the pain. When the bronze cage door opened again, I unclenched my blood-drenched fists. This time, I would not wait.

Seraphine Vale is betrayed on her twentieth birthday, not celebrated. Drugged and abandoned by the family that despises her, she awakens in a luxury hotel suite beside Lucian Ardent, a powerful and untouchable billionaire feared across elite society. Their meeting is accidental and the result of a conspiracy, but by dawn, her life is already falling apart. When Seraphine gets back to her house, judgment takes the place of protection. Weeks later, her pregnancy is exposed at the family dinner table. She is locked up, forced into premature labor, and deceived into thinking her newborn child has died in the aftermath of calculated cruelty. She is exiled out of the country and pursued, narrowly avoiding being killed, and she then vanishes outside of its borders. She is ignored by everyone. She will never be seen again by her foes. She returns six years later. Seraphine re-enters high society transformed, no longer fragile but elegant, powerful, and emotionally untouchable. With mastery in medicine, a rising fashion empire, and alliances among the elite, she begins reclaiming what was stolen from her. Her presence disrupts the carefully constructed life of Lydia, the stepsister who stole her place, her identity, and her child. Lucian Ardent continues to look for the mysterious woman from that night despite the fact that he is unaware that she now appears before him under a different name and with different powers. Rivalry, suspicion, and an inexplicable pull that neither can ignore cross their paths. A brilliant young boy stands in the middle of them, drawn to the woman who thinks her child is dead. As deception unravels and buried truths surface, love and revenge converge in a world where reputation is power and identity is a weapon. Seraphine did not return for forgiveness but for the truth and revenge.

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.

Because of her first love's piano competition, my fiancee, Ashley Blake, postpones our wedding for the 17th time seven years into our relationship. On the eve of the competition, she chops off my ring finger just because Marc Tyson claims I injured his hand and ruined his ability to compete. The pain of losing my finger leaves me crying in agony, but she simply holds him in her arms and stares me down with indifferent eyes. She says, "Stop pretending, Troy Clinton. You're a grown man. What's all this fuss over losing a finger? Besides, you merely lost one finger. Marc has lost the dream he spent his whole life chasing! This is what you owe him." Her cruel words shatter my heart into tiny pieces. She has forgotten that my fingers are also meant to dance across piano keys. "The wedding next week is postponed," she says dismissively while covering Marc's reddened fingers. She adds, "This has nothing to do with Marc. It's simply because you can't wear a wedding ring with a missing finger anyway." Clutching my bleeding hand, I finally wake up to reality. From this moment onwards, we owe each other nothing.

people says everyone's destiny is written by god even before we are born but no one knows whether it's true or not and if it's true then what I did that god wrote so much pain and suffering in my destiny....... standing in the cemetery near a grave dressed in all black Kyle cried out like a wounded wolf in the heavy rain that was pouring down from the last three days. It seems like the sky is also crying about the demise of Bella. A tall guy in black came quietly behind Kyle and put his hand on her shoulder and said in a deep Husky voice, "Are you really gonna marry him?? Do you know what are you doing Kai?? You are putting your life in danger for revenge and hatred." Kyle stayed silent for a while and then said with a faded tone to the guy, "I am leaving that little guy in your hands, and now you must keep him safe, and don't worry I will kill all of them before I hit the death bed." It's a glimpse of the story hope you liked it and gonna stay tuned till the last. Please try to ignore my grammatical mistakes if you find any and please show your love and what you think about the story through your comments 😊