Sylveon Crying Novels & Stories

My adoptive parents' long-lost daughter came back. She's a wellness influencer. She eats from crystal bowls she "cleansed." Sleeps with a white noise machine. She will only ride in a custom, climate-controlled car. That's not all. She filled our family's Manhattan law firm with Himalayan salt lamps and energy crystals. The espresso in the conference room? Replaced with gluten-free, organic dandelion root tea. "The energy here is so murky," she'd say. "We need to cleanse the world with love and light!" My guilt-ridden parents gave her everything she wanted. Even my fiancé told me, "Ava, you stole twenty years of her Upper East Side life. Can't you cut her some slack?" The day of the final hearing for our firm's biggest case, the entire court had to wait for her to finish her "emotional cleansing meditation." The judge was furious. I stood up. Delivered a flawless closing argument. I won our client $500 million and secured the future of the firm. But at the party, she had a drunken breakdown, fell into the pool, and drowned. My parents and my fiancé blamed me for everything. "You always have to win, don't you? It was a simple, open-and-shut case. You couldn't even let her have that?" They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. They destroyed my law license and my reputation. They even had me injected with a fatal overdose of sedatives. I died full of hate. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day she was crying on her Instagram Live, begging for the case. This time, I walked straight into our rival's law firm. This "sure-win" case? I'm going to make you lose everything.

CAN BE READ ALONE!! Growing up, at a younger age my mom would tell me her romantic story of how she and dad met. I fell in love with their love story and would beg her to tell me every night before going to bed. I love her story so much that I could not wait to one day be old enough to find my one true mate; that every full moon, I would stare through my bedroom window and watch excitedly wolves being wandered off into the dark, having only the full moon to guide them. Seeing them, I was even more anxious to turn eighteen and to too meet my mate. The wolf, the moon goddess has blessed me with to spend my entire life with. Before my mom was taken from me, she used to tell me, a one true mate is like an alpha, and that the only difference is that he may not have a pack he's destined to rule and protect, but a single wolf he's destined to love forever. I kept that quote with me and impatiently waited until I was of the rightful age, searching under the beautiful moonlight for my one true mate. It was the most beautiful night and even more beautiful when I lay eyes on a dark hair and blue eyes handsome wolf. I could hear my wolf crying inside telling me that he was mine; that night I thought I found everything that I was looking for and ever wanted, but the next day after my one true mate mark me as his own and took my innocent. Everything wasn't going the way I thought it would be. My mate mostly. His sweet behavior towards me suddenly changes into something terrifying; something I'd never wish upon anyone.

Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror and just barely recognizing yourself in the reflection? Well that is me, I have loved and lost. Survived and thrived, screamed and cried into my pillow tears nobody else got to see. But I never gave up hope, never lied down and never let them see me cry. Until him, he could see past the facade and see the real me. He wanted to love me, concole me and protect me. But I have lost hope in humanity, men, true love because life just arent a fairytale right? Its hard work and nothing comes easy even if you would like to believe it does it just doesnt. He is my mothers new husbands son and 10 years older than me. His blue eyes keep staring at me, it should warm me to the core right. Make me feel something anything. But it doesn't he makes women run after him and beg on their knees. But me, I have been down this road before. The charming smile, arrogant cocky attitude. It always ends the same, me covered in bruises crying on the bathroom floor. Thinking its all my fault, all me. But he just wouldn't let go. He wouldn't give up. And the more I turn him down the more it turns him on. I am only that strong before I give in,and even though I know how this is about to end. If he keeps staring at me with desire in his eyes as if I am the reason he is breathing. I know I am about to take the leap this can go down to damn ways. But the question is do I or dont I. Because fear can be your anchor or it can be your wings

I went to my best friend's place for her birthday, and out of nowhere, she started complaining. "I'm so jealous of you," she said. "Your boyfriend has basically no sex drive." "Mine's the complete opposite. He wanted it seven times last night. I was crying so hard I lost my voice, and he still wouldn't stop." I gave her a sympathetic smile. "That just means he's crazy about you. Unlike mine—he's practically celibate. Like a monk." She raised an eyebrow, casually stroking the two-million-dollar ruby bangle on her wrist. "He's not bad," she said, a hint of smugness in her voice. "He was with his ex for five years, but he still chose to marry me behind her back. He was so afraid she'd push for marriage that he faked going bankrupt and told her he had ALS. "The girl wouldn't let go, though. She sold her blood, her kidney—whatever it took—to scrape together money for his treatment. "She was working the graveyard shift at a factory, while he and I were fooling around in a twenty-million-dollar villa." I froze. To help my boyfriend Nathan Whitley pay for his ALS treatment, I had done all of those things. Before I could even process it, the door opened, and a tall, sharply dressed man walked in. "Babe," he said, "I got that strawberry flavor you like. How about wearing that silk nightie tonight?" Our eyes met. I stood there, frozen in shock, a chill running down my spine. It was Nathan Whitley—the man who was supposed to be broke, bedridden, and dying of ALS.

When Astrid is kidnapped and shipped off as a gift for a king’s coronation, she becomes resentful of her life and resigns herself to death at his hands. Spared by her new captor, she must find a way to navigate the turmoil of harem life. Pitted against the other girls of the harem, and the king's favorite, she must survive attempts on her life, societal upheaval, and, most dangerous of all, a budding romance. Is she just making the good of a bad situation? Or is love truly blooming with her tyrannical owner? "Do you know who you're talking to?" He asks both angry and amused, with a dangerous flame in his golden eyes. "Loras." "Loras is a king, Astrid. A king doesn't give explanations in front of anyone. And if you don't learn that, this palace will kill you." He doesn't sound like he's scolding her, nor does he sound arrogant. He tells it as it is. And Astrid was aware of that. But still, it's not something that her heart could just accept. She didn't realize she was crying until his hand dries her tears. And before realizing it, he pulls her closer. "N..." She tries to oppose it, but it's too late. His lips are pressed on hers and all breath leaves her chest. His lips are soft and full, embracing her mouth entirely. "Open your mouth!" He whispers an order and she can only obey. Her knees are melting so she grabs his neck. He puts his arms around her and lifts her up, pressing her body into the wall, trapping her. And then, suddenly, just when she was starting to get used to the maddening sensation of his touch, he steps back. "Don't you want to finish the conversation about Lysa?" He asks.

By the fifth year of my marriage to James Hill, he began pretending to be his late twin brother, the late Don of the family. With that, he took over all of a Don’s duties and the role of my sister-in-law, Hilary’s husband. Every time after he slept with her, he would cut his arm open, kneel before me, and beg for forgiveness. “Pia, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Once Hilary gives birth to the heir and secures her position, I’ll fake my death and come back for you.” He told me his twin brother had died saving him, so he had to fulfill his brother’s last wish. During the year he pretended to be his brother, James slept with Hilary ninety-nine times. After a full year, Hilary finally gave birth to the family’s heir. I truly believed James would fake his death as promised, then take our son and me away from this bloody life. However, I saw him with Hilary in his arms, teasing the tiny baby she carried. “Hilary, I’ll stay with you and our child until he’s ready to take over as the next Don.” Silently, I wiped my tears and went back to my room to pack my suitcase. My son saw me crying and ran into my arms, gently wiping away my tears with his little hands. “Ma, Aunt Hilary already had her baby. Why isn’t Papa coming home yet?” I placed my clothes into the suitcase as I told him softly, “Because he doesn’t want us anymore. But don’t be sad, sweetheart. I will build us a home.” If James wanted to raise an heir, then I would return to North Atlantis’s most powerful mafia family, take my rightful place as my father’s heir, and become the Godmother of the Mafia.

No one knew that I, the one they called the Angel-Faced Executioner, had been tangled up with the heir of the Grahams more times than I could count. In the latest model sports car, Doug Graham pressed a marriage certificate into my hand, his teeth grazing my lower lip as he murmured, "The Grahams have enemies on both sides of the law. I found a shield, a way to protect you." I was ecstatic and completely swept up in it, giving him whatever he wanted. I never imagined it was the beginning of a nightmare. Doug publicly announced his engagement to the Sowles heiress, making a show of it, and he clarified that I was nothing more than a low-level enforcer in front of everyone. But that night, he left marks all over my body, whispering against my skin, "The less I care about you, the less anyone will suspect you're my real wife." From then on, he and Lindsey Sowle humiliated me at every turn. Only when we were alone would he finally show the truth, his voice strained with pain. "I know this isn't fair to you. Once I'm done using her, I'll kick her out for good." When Lindsey caused me to lose the baby, he dropped to his knees in front of me, slapping himself over and over. "That idiot keeps ending up kidnapped and abused. Serves her right!" Until one day, I was taken in a setup by Doug's rival, Chad Conner. He grabbed me by the throat and forced me to look inside the room. Lindsey was blindfolded and gagged, crying and gasping as Doug lashed her with a pink whip. "They've run this whole kidnapping stunt seven times already. You'd think they'd be tired of it by now." Tears poured down my face. So I was the fool all along, the one who got played by Doug's so-called love.

When I was six years old, I became an actual dummy after playing a silly game with my older sister, Hannah Hubbard. My mental age is stuck at six years old. Because of that, my grandma receives a huge shock, causing her condition to deteriorate. Since then, Hannah has completely transformed into a brand new person. Thanks to her scholarship and her efforts to collect and sell trash, Grandma and I are able to survive under her care. Hannah is such a prideful person, and yet when her classmates call her stupid nicknames, she doesn't get mad at them at all. But if anyone is to call me an idiot, Hannah will seek justice for me no matter what. That night, Hannah gathers me in her arms while crying soundlessly. "My Oliver isn't an idiot at all. You just haven't grown up yet. Oliver, promise me that you will never leave me, okay?" I just nod blankly. For the next three years, I cling to her like glue. That is, until Blake Mueller appears in our lives. When I'm done playing with the mud, I forget to wash my hands, so I accidentally soil Blake's white shirt with my soiled hands. That's when Hannah suddenly breaks down emotionally and kicks me out of the house. "Oliver Hubbard, you've dragged me down my whole life! Are you going to cause trouble for Blake as well? Can you please be more understanding and stop causing more trouble for me?" Finally, an idea sparks inside my dim-witted brain for once. It turns out that my existence brings nothing but misery to Hannah. So, I hide inside the casket Grandma has custom-ordered for herself. There, I close my eyes and begin counting down quietly. Three, two, one. Let the game begin.

After seven years of marriage, Kayla Campbell had finally become pregnant. But during her prenatal checkup, she noticed something was wrong. The space to fill in the name of the child’s father was blank. She instinctively spoke up. "The father should be Luke Hudson. Was it missed during registration?" In Havenport's upper circles, almost everyone was aware of how devoted the head of the Hudson family was to his wife. He loved her so deeply that he had once been willing to undergo a vasectomy for her. "Kayla, watching you take medicine and get injections again and again breaks my heart. You're everything to me. If having a child means you have to suffer like this, then I would rather never have one." Perhaps the heavens were touched by them. Luke was a man known for his decisive and ruthless nature. On the day they confirmed her pregnancy, he had knelt and pulled her into his arms, crying until his voice gave out. He had personally handled all the medical registration paperwork afterward. With how carefully he treated her, a mistake like this made no sense. The staff member was clearly new to the job, and she worked at the computer for a long while before finally nodding. "The father's name was blank when the file was created." As she continued checking, her expression changed slightly. "But Mr. Hudson's name does appear in another patient's record. He's listed as the father of her child. The mother's name is Stephanie Campbell. Do you know her?" Kayla froze. Her thoughts went blank. People in their social circle all knew Kayla's background. She had been adopted by the Campbell family. But when the family finally found their biological daughter, they accused Kayla of having taken their real daughter's place for years and kicked her out without mercy. That biological daughter was Stephanie.

“Relax. It was meaningless. It didn’t mean a thing.” Three years. That’s how long Lena Carter loved Evan Brooks—three years of loyalty, late nights, and believing she was building a future with him. Until she finds him in a hotel suite bathroom, hands braced against marble, whispering excuses while her cousin—and closest friend—fixes her lipstick in the mirror. All this happens during Lena’s promotion celebration. Lena should be home, crying into cheap wine and shattered dreams. Instead, she’s stranded on a quiet Los Angeles street at midnight, phone dead, heels in hand, with a group of drunk men circling closer than comfort allows. Then a black luxury sedan pulls up. The man who steps out wears a tailored suit, calm eyes, and an authority that makes the street go silent. Mason Hart. Billionaire. Tech CEO. And—unknown to him—the elusive owner of the company where Lena works as an executive assistant two floors below the C-suite. He offers her a ride. She hesitates. She takes it. That single decision rewrites her life. Mason doesn’t mix business with emotions. He doesn’t date employees. And he definitely doesn’t rescue strangers with haunted eyes. But Lena’s quiet strength, the way she refuses pity, the way pain sharpens her instead of breaking her—it gets under his skin. Lena just wants to forget the man who betrayed her. Mason offers distraction. Protection. Desire without promises. But Evan refuses to let go, spreading lies and suddenly desperate to “fix things.” Her cousin is determined to destroy what little Lena has left. And the closer Lena grows to the powerful CEO who signs her company’s paychecks, the more dangerous her heart becomes. Because falling for a billionaire who doesn’t believe in love might hurt worse than betrayal.