Tobias Shower Crying Novels & Stories

Devil’s own incarnation in sparkling designers. Zade Dalton Gomez is a man not to be trifled with, and Carla Meadows has always been aware of that, which was why she knew she was doomed the moment this man involved himself in her mess and forced her into a contract marriage with himself. Tycoon, big shot, and powerful with near-impossible connections, Zade was a conventionally attractive, highly sought after bachelor in the country. Carla, whose reputation in the country is completely ruined after going to prison in place of a man that ended up backstabbing her, has been deserted by everyone and is left to face her plight herself. She hoped for a miracle that would bring her out of this humiliating mess, and not a union with the devil himself, which is bound to leave her scorched in the end. Zade detests criminals. Zade loathed Carla. She and her ex-husband were responsible for a trauma of his, and he vowed to punish Carla while making use of her— to kill a handful of birds at once before discarding her. It’s just a contract marriage, but neither of them anticipated desire coming into play. A contract marriage born from raw hatred, a thirst for revenge, and punishment. What could go wrong? ~~~ Ex-husband showed up with divorce papers for me to sign. He thought I’d be crying, but I readily signed it with a smile. When he sighted me in the arms of his arch enemy, he instantly grew jealous and now, he wants me back. But, too bad for him, cause I’ve moved on from trash to diamonds!

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.

"Did you really kiss the Alpha?" Gary asked me and turned to the man bathing in the darkness. "Is she the one you were telling me about?” "Yes," he coldly said and turned around, walking away. "Please," I begged, crying. "Alpha Asher, please. I'm sorry for what I did. I didn't mean to, please forgive me.” I begged, crying profusely and Gary looked at me, pity flickering in his eyes. "Please, Alpha. Let's help her. She could be useful to you one day,” he suggested and Alpha Asher stopped in his tracks. I almost shot Gary a dirty glare. What did he mean by useful? I didn't leave my pack to come here and serve another fucking Alpha! The Alpha I kissed at that! I was about to ask what he meant by useful but the pain in my leg reminded me of what was at stake. To serve him for a while and then be free, or to die and not be able to do anything again. "Useful?” Alpha Asher asked, breaking my thoughts. "Yes, yes. I'll do whatever you want. Just help me, please. I don't want to die." I begged. "Anything I want?” he asked again, smirking. ”What could this man be thinking of that's making him smirk?” I mumbled to myself, trying to distract myself from his attractive lips. ”Answer me, woman. Would you do anything I want?”

I had been on a business trip overseas for less than six months when I suddenly received a call from the hospital. "Mr. Jones, your wife is having a difficult labor. Should we proceed with a C-section or try to continue with a natural delivery?" The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood there, frozen. When I left, my wife had not shown any sign of pregnancy. How could she be giving birth less than six months later? I quickly dialed her number. The moment the call connected, I heard her cries of pain. "Honey, what's wrong?" From the other end of the line, I could hear a nurse urging her to push harder. However, my wife forced her voice to sound calm. "Sweetheart, I just slipped and fell a moment ago. It's nothing serious. You should keep focusing on your business trip. Don't worry about me." As I listened, the faint sound of a baby crying filtered through the phone. My grip tightened so hard around the phone that it nearly cracked. "Is that so? Then, get some rest," I said calmly. After hanging up, I immediately called my father, the richest man in the country. "Dad, Rebecca's cheating on me. She's in the delivery room right now, having another man's child. Stop all investments in the Harris family immediately. I want her thrown out with nothing to her name."

[Free pass for letting Bianca hurt Jenna: 1 remaining.] That was the pinned memo in the phone of Dylan Nelson, my fiance. We had been together for five years. Bianca Shelly was his mentor’s daughter. He had quantified every slight Jenna suffered into a spendable allowance. Three days into our silent standoff, he took my engagement ring from the nightstand. I tried to stop him. “That ring was registered in my name for life.” He checked the note on his phone. His voice turned cold. “Bianca got rejected by the guy she was set up with. She’s been crying all day. She’s just borrowing it for a photo. Stop making this difficult.” An hour later, I received an alteration alert from the jeweler’s app. [Original recipient: Jenna Vogel. Recipient changed to: Bianca Shelly. Ownership status: Finalized and irreversible.] I finally recalled the small print at the bottom of his note. [If Jenna ends the relationship first, all free passes will automatically reset.] From the beginning, he had planned to sacrifice me over and over again. It was not that he did not understand what the ring meant. He was simply certain that I would never muster up the courage to leave him. That evening, Dylan texted to ask whether I was done being angry. I did not reply. I simply changed his contact name from “Babe” back to “Dylan Nelson”. I thought. “Dylan, that was your last free pass. This time, there will be no reset.”

My fated mate shut me out of our bond for the ninety-ninth time just as the last spark of dragonfire inside me began to die. I walked into the Oath Hall of Obsidian Keep alone. Black stone stretched beneath my feet, cold enough to bite through my slippers, and every step made the cracked channels around my dragon core grind deeper into my chest. “I’m here to renounce the Obsidian Court and dissolve my life-bond with the Dragon Lord.” The clerk took in my bloodless face and lowered his voice. “Lady Ashton, once I set the seal, the Court will no longer be required to protect you. Are you certain?” My dragonfire had been unstable since birth, leaving me weaker than most dragonkin. When I was ten, my father adopted Cecilia. She had a gift for explaining every disaster in the gentlest possible voice until everyone believed I was the jealous sister who couldn’t stand to share. My parents hadn’t always been unloving. They had simply forgotten how to tell the difference between the daughter who was crying and the daughter who was lying. Cassian and I had been fated for years, yet he had never crowned me his Dragon Queen. He rarely took me to Court gatherings. Most of Obsidian Keep didn’t even know I was his mate. “That’s all right.” I swallowed the taste of blood and kept my voice steady. “I’ll be dead in three days.”

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

Ever since I married Myra Cowan, I started living like a beggar despite making an annual salary of a million dollars. She kept telling me, "We should hang in there for now, honey. Once we've saved enough money, we'll be able to live however we want without worrying about our financial situation." My closet was stuffed with old suits bought ten years ago. My lunches were always sandwiches, which were nearing their expiry dates, bought from convenience stores. My friends made fun of me for marrying a woman who was addicted to saving money. But my heart went out to Myra for suffering with me in life. But when I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer and needed money for a life-saving surgery, Myra broke down in tears and told me that all of our savings were kept in a fixed-term deposit. Before I drew my last breath, I heard Myra telling her younger brother, Dwight Cowan, over the phone in a gentle tone, "I've already transferred you the down payment for your house." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Myra demands that I sell my gaming account in exchange for money. The monitor shows a familiar login screen. Myra can be seen standing next to me. "This account can be sold for 8,000 dollars. We can save three months' worth of expenses with this money!" I just laugh in response. In my previous life, I had done nothing but save money. In the end, all of my money became someone else's assets. Why the hell should I save money in this life? With just one click on the mouse, I reload a million dollars into the game right away. Immediately, a reddish-golden meteor shower covers the skies of the entire server. The system makes an announcement in a bold, enlarged font that gets repeated for a long time. "Player 'Void' spares no expense, inviting fair maidens from across the realms to forge a destined bond! Those who are interested are welcome to attend the Celestial Lake Gathering. A bride price of one million awaits—offered in exchange for a single, sincere heart."

I was an ordinary mortal girl who lived at the foot of Mount Olympus. Caelum, King of the Gods, descended from the heavens for me once, transforming himself into a shower of gold. He took me to the peak of Olympus over every other god’s objection. He built a shrine on the mountain that belonged to me alone, every god on Olympus knew the same truth: I was the only mortal love of Caelum’s endless life. Then I gave birth to our daughter, Nia. The Fates declared her a cursed child whose existence would bring disaster to the gods, and Nia and I were sent back down to the small cottage at the foot of the mountain. Seraphina, Goddess of Flame, said she could help cleanse Nia of the curse, and with Caelum’s quiet consent she came every month and burned my daughter with divine fire. Nia screamed under that fire, sobbing for me . I ran into the temple to beg Caelum to stop it, and I found him in bed with Seraphina. The pure, holy Goddess of Flame was moaning beneath him. They threw me into the depths of Tartarus, where Seraphina handed me over to the Erinyes to be torn apart day after day. When Nia turned five, they finally let me out, but by then my Nia had been burned to ash. The day I was gathering her ashes, the message stone in my room suddenly lit up, and a projection flickered out of it: Caelum, as he had been five years ago. His eyes were full of joy and anticipation, and his voice was so gentle it almost made me believe time had folded back on itself. “Sweetheart, is it a boy or a girl? Did our child inherit my power?” In the projection his expression shifted, and the smile froze on his face. That was when the door of my room was pushed open, and the present-day Caelum, five years older than the man in the stone, strode inside. I turned the message stone around so the Caelum from five years ago could see Nia’s urn with his own eyes. “It’s a girl,” I said. “But she didn’t live long enough to inherit your power. She was burned to ash.”

Sophia was forced to marry a man she never loved just to stop her father from going to jail. The marriage however turned out to be a living hell after she discovered a painful truth that destroyed her. Sophia usually gets home late from work every day with expensive gifts, looking so flashy. She starts getting cold with Shawn, disrespecting him as though he never meant anything to her. He reported Sophia to Joana, her cousin, but she denied her involvement. Sophia kept her secret affair with Mathew away from everyone. Shawn stopped worrying about her mischief and decided to carry out his investigation on her. On her way to work, he trailed her movement and found Sophia heading to a different route. He was confused and kept trialing and behold, her cab alighted in front of a big mansion. Shawn was devastated and knew his girlfriend was cheating on him. He took a photo of her for evidence and returned home, disclosing it to Joana, her cousin. Hard for her to believe, they waited for Sophia to return. As usual, she returned very late. Shawn confronted her and accused her of cheating, but she denied it until he showed her the evidence. She was stunned! She had no idea Shawn trailed her. Frustrated by her act, Shawn beats Sophia to a pulp and throws her out of his house. Now his father's words were starting to get to him. He regretted not listening to his father. Sophia left his apartment in pain and went crying in Matthew's arms.