Yellow Diamond Steven Novels & Stories

While we were scuba diving, my boyfriend, Raphael Carlisle, ripped off my oxygen mask and put it on his childhood friend, Lucia Fairchild, whose mask had started leaking. I was left thrashing helplessly in the freezing water. Just as I thought it was over, Raphael's younger brother, Gabriel Carlisle, swam over, breathed life into me, and brought me back to the surface. After he saved me, he presented me with the purple diamond ring he designed himself and proposed, "For as long as I live, I'll never let you face danger again." I believed that he was my one true love, so I married him, leaving my job behind to focus on starting a family. On the day Lucia was given a critical condition notice, I ended up in a car accident. As I lay half-conscious on the hospital bed, I overheard Gabriel talking with Raphael. "Get a doctor to induce labor right away! Lucia's illness can only be treated with a stem cell transplant from umbilical cord blood. The only reason I got Phoebe pregnant was for this very day." "But she's carrying our bloodline! How could you have someone hit her with a car?" Raphael yelled. Gabriel replied, "Lucy matters more to me! As for Phoebe, I can spoil her rotten once she wakes up." At that moment, I realized the love I held on to was nothing but a lie. If that was the case, I'd just leave.

I had been married to Matthew Zackman for 20 years, taken care of my bedridden mother-in-law for ten years, and supported him as he transformed from a rural teacher to a well-known professor. Everyone called me a model of a virtuous wife and a great contributor to the Zackman family. When my mother-in-law was on her deathbed, she held my hand and said that she still wanted me to be her daughter-in-law in her next life. Matthew had held me in his arms and said gratefully, "Jamie, you've worked so hard all these years. I'll make it up to you in the future." I thought the hard times were finally over, but my mother-in-law had just passed away when he handed me a divorce agreement and embraced my best friend, who had grown up with me. He said, "Jamie Lingsworth, I've endured this marriage for 20 years and am finally free. Rosie is the one I've loved all along." I left the marriage empty-handed and was forced to wander the streets until a car accident ended my life. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the day of my blind date 20 years ago. The matchmaker was enthusiastically praising Matthew, "This young man is a diamond in the rough! He's kind and filial. Whoever marries him is one lucky woman!" I looked at the polite and sincere-looking man across from me and smiled. Then, I threw the matchmaking document in my hand into the trash can. "Sorry, I don't think we're a good match."

Five years ago, Jessica made the ultimate sacrifice for the love of her life, Davis. When a horrific car accident left him on the brink of death, she didn't hesitate to donate her own kidney to save him. She worked herself to the bone, juggling multiple grueling jobs to fund his dream of studying overseas, believing they were building a future together. But when she discovered she was pregnant, she kept it a secret, refusing to let anything hold him back. She waited. Months turned into agonizing years of dead silence. Her texts went unanswered, her phone calls ignored, and his ruthless family eventually threw her out onto the streets with her beautiful daughter, Catherine. Now, Davis has returned—not as the loving man she saved, but as a cold-blooded billionaire CEO celebrating his grand opening and his engagement to a wealthy heiress, Valerie. Hired as a desperate waitress at his event just to afford her daughter’s medicine, Jessica accidentally crosses his path. Instead of a warm embrace, she is met with absolute ice. To protect his pristine status, Davis shoves her away, pretending she is a lunatic stranger while Valerie publicly humiliates her, shattering a glass over her bleeding head. As the elite crowd laughs, Marcus—the untouchable son of the richest man in the city—steps in. Wrapping her in his jacket, he vows to make Davis pay. Davis threw away a diamond, but Marcus is ready to claim his queen—and when the truth of the kidney and the secret baby comes to light, the billionaire's regret will be absolute.

Roxanne's fiancé was suddenly snatched by her stepsister. In return, she got into a forced marriage with her stepsister's fiancé, a wealthy billionaire whom her sister had rejected because he was disabled.Bound by familial obligations and in order to reclaim her late mother's shopping center, Roxanne agreed to replace her sister and marry the "Crippled" billionaire, Henry Ford. Little did she know that she had thrown a rock and picked a diamond instead. Henry Ford, the crippled billionaire, was more than meets the eye! For Roxanne, the grass was indeed greener on Henry Ford's side. …"Make me yours, Henry," Roxanne said, her eyes pleading. Henry's electric blue eyes whirled with affection as he gazed into her eyes. His love was all that mattered to her. "Roxy, are you certain? Once I make you mine, there's no turning back." Henry's eyes darkened as he got closer to her. “Is this what you really want?”"You don't want me?" Roxanne asked instead, looking sad. Henry grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. He glanced down at her and whispered, "I've wanted you from the very first day I laid my eyes on you." Roxanne's heart skipped a beat as she felt the intensity of his grip. She could sense the raw desire in his touch, and it sent delicious shivers down her spine. “Then prove it,” she whispered breathlessly.

After the death of her family in an accident that left her scarred, and wolfless, Nora Howard was constantly at the mercy of her fated mate who was disgusted at the very sight of her. On the day of her anniversary her husband, Alpha Aiden broke the bond between them. And casually tossed a divorce paper at her face. Alpha Aiden gave a diamond ring to her best friend. Nora was shattered, and too weak from betrayal. Only this time, she was done. She might be ugly with a scar on her face. Wolfless, and carrying the guilt of losing her family. It was time for a change. In her quest for escape, Nora strayed into the Blackcrest pack. A powerful pack ruled by the Virelli twins. Halil and Kai Virelli. Lycan kings who ruled their pack with iron fist, and were ruthless with enemies. However, beneath the cold devastatingly handsome faces of the Virelli twins was a spine chilling curse. One only a mate can break. They wanted to exert instant judgement on Nora Howard. But fate shifted when the moon goddess linked them as a second chance mate to Nora. They vowed to make her regret every minute of her life, and break her bit by bit. Until, they caught themselves staring at her a minute longer. An incident happened, that changed everything. Nora ran away from the Blackcrest pack, seeking revenge. Unknown to her, their seeds were growing in her. In that moment, The Lycan twins realized Nora was the woman they truly yearned for. Dark secrets resurfaces linking her to them. Would she go through with her revenge? even if she had the powers to take down the most powerful Alphas. Or had she fallen in love with the Virelli twins, and somehow hadn’t noticed?

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

My husband, Aston Powell, is late to show up at the sixth birthday celebration of our daughter, Hailey Powell. When he arrives, he clasps a necklace with a red emerald pendant hanging from it around her neck. "Wow, Aston! Isn't that from the pair of red emerald pendants you bought at City Auction today? They're worth seven figures, aren't they?" Aston's friends all laugh and tease him. Hailey holds up the pendant with a bright smile on her face. "Thanks, Daddy!" "Where's the other one? Are you planning to give it to Belinda?" his friend asks teasingly. As the others start cheering him on, he takes out a diamond necklace instead. Aston says, "Dear, I've got to be fair. Tamara is pregnant with my child. I promised I'd give the child she's carrying in her belly the other pendant." Tamara Davies is his widowed sister-in-law. My whole body jolts involuntarily, and I subconsciously grip that necklace tightly. "Honey, please don't joke about this." Aston smiles and speaks in an unexpectedly calm voice. "Don't worry, Belinda. My heart belongs to you and only you. You have to be sensible. My brother passed away so young. Tamara begged me to give her a child with our surname. I couldn't reject her." He puts the necklace around my neck and lightly clasps it, placing a soft kiss on my neck while he is at it. "Be good, okay? That was just an accident. Once the child is born, we'll have her sent back to Powell Manor," Aston says.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

At the bachelor party the night before the wedding, the truth-or-dare penalty was brutal—show the most hidden photo on your phone. Gina, Peter's so-called "girl bro," lost. She just grinned and cast her screen onto the big TV. A marriage license filled the screen, stamped by the county clerk. Names: Peter Cooke and Gina Draper. Date: yesterday. The room went dead silent. I stared at Peter's drained face. Gina didn't flinch. She patted his shoulder. "Oops. Guess you found out. Joey, don't take it seriously. Just a dumb bet. I wanted to see what the county clerk's office looked like, so I dared Peter to register a marriage with me." She leaned in, eyes on me like I was the joke. "You're still getting your wedding tomorrow. The vows, the ceremony. I just borrowed your fiancé for a stamp. Don't tell me you're jealous of his buddy." Peter jumped up and pulled me in. "Babe, listen. You're the only one in my heart. It was just a joke." He pulled out the diamond ring, dropped to one knee. "I'll file for divorce first thing tomorrow. It won't mess up our noon wedding. Invites are already out. Don't make this a scene in front of my friends. Once we're married, all my money's yours, okay?" I smiled. He had no clue how any of this worked. Didn't even know divorce came with a thirty-day wait. I didn't take the ring. I pulled out my phone and blasted a group text canceling the wedding.