Three Faced Doll Novels & Stories

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

For three years, Nina Walker had done everything James Gibson asked. Even when he sent her to Harbor City the day after their wedding, she never complained. In those three years, she didn’t just help the company gain a solid foothold there. She also turned her patents into more than a billion dollars in profit. But when her mother fell seriously ill and Nina begged him through tears to let her take time off, he shut her down with a single sentence. “She’s not dead yet, is she?” That was all it took for him to dismiss her. Nina came back anyway. Only then did she realize their marriage had been a lie from the very beginning. He had married her only for the sake of the child he’d had with the woman he’d never gotten over. He had sent Nina to Harbor City only so she wouldn’t disturb their happy little family of three. Even the dog she had left behind had been abused. In that moment, something inside Nina finally died. She resigned from the company, signed the divorce papers, and walked out of the Gibson family’s life without looking back. When James found out, he only gave a cold, dismissive laugh. He was sure she would come crawling back. But the next time he saw Nina, she was standing at the press conference of a biotech company. She had just developed a patented gene-editing technology, and she was answering reporters’ questions with calm confidence. Standing protectively by her side was the most powerful, untouchable tycoon in Harbor City’s elite circles. James dropped to one knee, tears streaming down his face. “Nina, I was wrong. Please. Give me one more chance.” Nina had given him plenty of chances. But this time, that chance was someone else’s. The man behind her stepped forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and made his claim clear without hesitation. “She’s my wife now.”

I spent eight years raising Dante's children. Three of them, and every single one belonged to him and his arranged wife Bianca. Not one was mine. I fought against it. I really did. But the Costello family needed heirs, and my background was too ordinary. The family would never accept me. Dante always had something to say about it. "Nora, once Bianca has the baby, I'll take you to the States. You can go to art school, open your own gallery. It's what your mother always wanted, isn't it?" Then Bianca had a son, and suddenly the family needed a daughter too, someone they could marry off to another faction. When the daughter came, the elders stepped in and said the mob was a bloody business and you needed enough children to guarantee the line would continue. Eight years. I went from Dante's lover to something worse than a servant. Then I got pregnant. I was so happy I could barely breathe when I told him. I thought this baby would finally be our way out. But there was no smile on his face. Just a look that was pained and apologetic, like he already knew what he was going to say. "Nora, you don't have a place in this family. Neither does your child. He'd disrupt the line of succession. We can't let him be born." I pressed my hand to my stomach, just barely starting to show. Hot tears hit the floor. Fine. If we couldn't leave together, I would leave alone.

In my previous life, my brother and fiancé teamed up to sabotage my company for the sake of my so-called best friend. After I went bankrupt, they stood beside her watching me collapse in the pouring rain, laughing mockingly at my pathetic state. "Linda Turner, you look as pathetic as a drenched dog!" they sneered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the project bidding meeting three years earlier. In my previous life, when my company was just starting out, my brother and fiancé had warned me against using the Turner and Peterson family connections. They claimed it wouldn't be fair to others, but then turned around and handed projects to my best friend under various pretexts, just to see her smile. Now that I was back, I watched them secretly manipulating things just like before, giving my projects to my best friend. I finally gave up on them completely. When they found out I was leaving the country, my brother and fiancé set off fireworks all night, celebrating that they'd finally gotten rid of me, the burden. But three years later, at the Trada Corp's bidding meeting, I took the stage as the CEO's wife—and they couldn't hide the redness in their eyes.

"Vera, you are accused of conspiring with the Petrov Group to assassinate the family's future Donna, Sylvia. This tribunal is now in session." In the center of the tribunal, a syringe filled with a dark green liquid glinted under the lights. My former fiancé, Rocco, the new Don of the Corleone family, sat on the dais, disgust plain on his face. "Confess. Let everyone see the monster you are behind that mask." Sylvia leaned against his chest, a faint smile on her lips. She thought I would finally break, my reputation in ruins. Shackled to the accused's chair, a smile of faint relief touched my lips. "Rocco, are you sure you want to do this?" "Use that needle, and there's no going back."

So here's the thing about being adopted by a junkie sex worker: you learn real fast that nobody's coming to save you, and the world doesn't give a shit about your potential. I got out and got a scholarship to some fancy boarding school where rich kids pretend they're better than you because their parents bought their way in instead of fucking their way through. Silvercrest Academy; prestigious, elite and completely fucking weird. Like, weird enough that my roommate has fangs and my lab partner's eyes glow in the dark and the three hottest guys on campus won't leave me alone for reasons I can't figure out. Dante—the golden boy who looks at me like I'm a problem he's trying to solve. Jax—the TA who tried to intimidate me until I put him on his ass, and now he follows me around like an angry cat that hasn't decided if it wants to be pet or bite me. Elias—the too-pretty rich boy who asks too many questions and looks at me like I'm the answer to something he's not saying out loud. I thought I was here to study genetics, turns out I'm the genetics. Aether bloodline that is believed to be ancient and extinct except apparently not, because I'm standing here with gold in my hair that won't dye out and an allergy to silver that makes no sense and power I don't know how to use sitting under my skin like a loaded gun. Someone's trying to kill me for it and through it all, three wolves telling me I'm their mate—which would be flattering if I wasn't too busy trying not to die to figure out what the fuck that means.

This is the sequel to "Trio of Mates" (can be found on here) and is NOT a stand-alone book. I felt as if I had just fallen asleep when flashes and fragments of dreams began to play through my mind. They are disjointed, speeding through my mind almost too fast to catch. There is Charlie holding two pups in her arms, the pack being attacked on the western front, Arya fallen to her knees sobbing in the middle of a battlefield, funeral pyres, me looking down at my pregnant stomach with Gael and Hakeem smiling down at me, whoops of victory, and wails of defeat. As the images flit through my mind, a voice enters the chaos. “A war of threes. Three deaths. Three victories. Three trios. Three losses. Betrayal. Birth. Death. Sorrow. Joy. Warn them, Meredith. Be prepared!”

The room is dimly lit, the air is filled with the smell of sex and alcohol; the guy laying next to the girl is panting heavily. She on the other hand is laying next to him, all curled up; soft whimpers are coming out of her lips. The guy wraps his muscular arms around her waist and pushes her a little away from him. She opens her eyes halfway through and stares at the guy, his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; his dark brown eyes are closed. His sharp features are glistening, when the little rays of the sun hits his face that is coming in through the window. Forwarding her hand, she caresses his thin lower lip with her index finger and closes her eyes. "Get out." He says in a harsh tone from beside her. Her eyes flutter open completely hearing his harsh words; she always thinks why he acts so badly with her? Retracting her hand back to herself she sits up, her lower belly aches in the bitter sweet pain. A groan comes out of her mouth and her hands go straight to on top of her lower belly, to caress it. His clothes and hers are scattered around on the floor. The entire room is a mess, the bed sheet is all crinkled; pillows are off the bed.

Olivia has had a year of fun with Blake and Sebastian. Suddenly Sebastian’s strong, demanding personality gets worse and Olivia can't keep up with him. She doesn't want to upset Blake but she doesn't want to lose Sebastian either. Sadly that decision is made for her.

Grace Monroe was a supermodel who walked away from the runway to build something real… her own sustainable fashion line. When billionaire hedge fund manager Carter Vaughn pursued her relentlessly, she believed she'd found a partner who saw beyond her face. Three years into their marriage, she discovers sex videos of Carter with multiple women, including her former best friend Stella. But the real devastation comes when she finds a contract: Carter married her as part of a bet with his elite boys' club… the first to stay married to a "perfect 10" for three years wins fifty million dollars. She was never a wife. She was a wager. Grace takes the scorched-earth divorce settlement and disappears. What Carter doesn't know: she's pregnant with twins. Grace returns as the founder of GRACE, a feminist fashion empire built on her viral campaign exposing "trophy culture." She's on magazine covers with her twin boys, August and James, refusing to name their father. She's wealthy, powerful, and untouchable. Carter's reputation is destroyed, his boys' club dissolved in scandal, and his fortune is crumbling from boycotts and bad investments. But when Carter discovers the twins are his… through a morally questionable secret DNA test—everything changes. He's not the man who made that bet anymore. Prison time for securities fraud, the loss of everything he valued, and watching Grace become the woman he prevented her from being has broken and rebuilt him. Now he wants his family back. Can a man who treated her as a commodity learn to truly love? Can she risk her sons' hearts on the father who didn't know they existed? And when Carter's former friends try to destroy Grace's empire to punish Carter, will she let him fight beside her or will she prove she never needed saving?