Diny R.
4 Published Stories
Diny R.'s Books and Stories
Master D's Obsession
Billionaires "You will forever be mine, Kitten."
Juliet didn't know what was happening to her. Her heart was racing, her body trembling, and her chest felt tight. Her vision blurred with tears, her head spinning, and her stomach nauseous. Terror and panic began to take over every time she tried to rise to the surface, only to fall deeper into the abyss of darkness.
She had received countless letters from an unknown person, and each sent her into a panic attack. In addition to letters filled with obsessive words, the man included photos of Juliet.
The man-whoever he was-knew Juliet very well. He knew the clothes she wore to work, her food, the music she listened to, and even the soap and shampoo she used. Initially, Juliet thought it was all just a prank, maybe because she wasn't part of the De Lavigne family. However, the letters increasingly revealed a terrifying obsession. He was a deranged psychopath.
....
Juliet Winter Addison never expected that one night's mistake would trap her in a horrific nightmare. A psychopath who claimed and was so obsessed with her made Juliet afraid of her own shadow.
Haunted by terror, Juliet decides to find out the man's identity, but she becomes entangled in a dangerous game. She couldn't tell anyone about what she was going through because Juliet didn't trust anyone. Not her boyfriend, Leo. Not even her stepbrother, Robbin. The man's threats forced Juliet to keep her mouth shut.
How will Juliet react when she discovers the man's identity? What will she do?
Juliet doesn't know how her story will end, but there is one thing she will fight for.
And that is her freedom.
LUNA : Alpha's Soulmate From Another World
Werewolf Luna Alicia is standing in the middle of a pitch-dark forest. Her whole body trembles in fear of the situation she's in right now. She's so confused and utterly clueless about what's going on. Her eyes are circling wildly, but there is nothing she can use as a clue to get out of this situation so she can come back.
How come? What's going on? Is this all just a dream? But when Luna pinched her arm and felt the pain, it meant that what was happening to her was real. Her teary dark brown eyes again lead to an abandoned temple, where she first set foot in this strange and mysterious situation.
Her body trembled as the cold blew hard against her. She was wrapped in a maroon-coloured knee dress with a famous brand, a dress she had bought suddenly at lunch. Once again, it was a sign that what she was going through was real and not a dream.
Has she started to lose her mind? Is she hallucinating? Did she accidentally take sedatives? But Luna stopped taking them three years ago after her psychiatrist said that she was better and declared successful in fighting the depression she suffered.
She took a long breath. The cell phone in her hand still has a lot of battery power, something to be thankful for under these circumstances. Her eyes again glanced at her phone screen, swearing slowly at the absence of signal status and turning off the phone as she had to save on using her phone. Luna's slowing down. She'd better get back inside the temple.
At least the temple was warm. Instead of standing still in the cold air or tracing the forest in the darkness, she waited until the sun rose. With that thought, Luna again entered the abandoned temple, which was indeed located in the middle of the forest.
While inside the temple, Luna's gaze immediately goes towards the large mirror attached to the wall on the other side of the door. She unconsciously walks up to the mirror, stopping when he is right in front of it.
Luna wipes slowly before shedding tears. Her hand is extended to touch the mirror surface, which shows Nicole in her apartment with a panicked and frightened face, searching for herself and shouting her name.
"Nicole... Please help me... I'm here... I went into the mirror... And now, I am still determining what this place is and where... "Luna is cried sadly.
...
THE VAMPIRE KING'S BELOVED
Fantasy Alina faces difficult situations when supernatural beings and vampires overrun the world and stand firm as leaders.
Surrender herself to the Emperor or let her family die at the hands of the bloodsuckers.
•••••••••••••
I didn't know that my plan to go to a resort in neutral territory with my best friends ended up in the hands of the most powerful vampire on earth. A Vampire who sits on the throne and is notorious for his cruelty.
Our meeting, which was so short, attracted him to me. He wanted me, and nothing could stop him from getting to me. When we returned face to face, the Emperor gave me the choice to go with him or watch my family and the rest of the city die at the hands of the vampires.
To him, my blood was an ambrosia so addicted, and my smile could bring his long-dead heart back to life.
Raised by the mother of the demons, the Emperor knows no compassion, but he slowly opens his heart to me, who has been dead and who I can't believe when he made me his chosen woman, his soulmate, his companion,
Beloved him.
He's willing to rebel against the woman who raised him. He put aside his respect for that woman for me. He chose me more when he was given a choice between me and that woman. The Emperor, who hated humans so much, chose me, who was just an ordinary human.
This is my story-the story of fate's journey for me. I love an Emperor of Vampires.
The Emperor Darren Phillipe Killian
- Alina.
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The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress
Xiao Wang For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party." The Underboss's Obsession: Stealing The Bride
Diversion Three days before the wedding.
I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman.
Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress.
The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem.
It didn't spell Elena.
It read Sofia.
He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name.
Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife.
He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance.
I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared.
"The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?"
"Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport."
"Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys."
I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday.
He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. My Mafia Husband's Betrayal, My Fury
Kinship My husband, Don Lorenzo Bianchi, the man who once took ninety-nine lashes for me, had just locked me in a guest room. I was four months pregnant with our child, the heir to his mafia empire.
My crime was throwing a glass of wine on his mistress, a woman he had moved into our home.
She cornered me in the garden, gloating that once the baby was born, he would give it to her to raise as her own. Later, she shoved me down the grand staircase, then threw herself down after me, screaming to my husband that I had tried to kill her.
As I lay in a pool of my own blood, Lorenzo rushed past me, scooping her into his arms and carrying her away without a single backward glance.
To force me to apologize, he had my parents brought to my hospital room and brutally whipped until they collapsed at his feet.
He was no longer the man who had 999 crystals sewn into my wedding dress. He was a monster who believed every lie she told and punished me for her crimes. How could the man who swore to love me forever become this cruel stranger?
But he didn't know the truth. Days before the fall, I had secretly terminated the pregnancy. I took the urn containing our child's ashes, filed for divorce, and disappeared from his world forever. Too Late, Mr. Mafia: The Surgeon He Discarded
Winnie Suchoff I was the wife of Dante Cavalli, the most ruthless mafia Don in the country.
But today, his Underboss slid mandatory annulment papers across my hospital bed, ordering me to dissolve our marriage.
In my past life, I dropped to my knees and begged them not to abandon me.
I spent the next thirty years locked in Dante's massive penthouse, waiting for a man who bathed the streets in blood but never gave me a single drop of warmth.
My aristocratic mother-in-law stripped me of every cent, leaving me completely isolated.
I foolishly threw away a brilliant surgical career to be a submissive, obedient mafia wife.
In the end, Dante never came to see me, and I died entirely alone in that massive, empty bed.
Until my last breath, my chest was suffocated by a lifetime of regrets.
I couldn't understand why I had sacrificed my freedom and my scalpels for a man who would only feel a twisted guilt decades after I was already a cold corpse.
Opening my eyes again, Fate had dragged me back to the exact day my nightmare truly began.
Matteo stood at the foot of my bed, clearly expecting my usual pathetic tears.
"Take your time to think about it."
This time, I didn't cry or beg for my life.
I just picked up the fountain pen, signed my name, and walked out to reclaim the scalpel I had abandoned. Abandoned Heiress, Now His Mafia Bride
Priority I was tracing the gold paint on my own tombstone when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.
It was Clayton.
The same man who, five years ago, had left me bleeding out in a ditch because he didn't want to be late for my sister's engagement party.
"Die quietly, Ivy," he had said over the phone before hanging up.
Now, standing over my grave, he dropped his cheap plastic flowers in shock.
"Ivy? You're... we buried you."
They hadn't buried me.
They had buried an empty box to save face, mourning a "troubled" daughter they had actually discarded like broken trash the moment I became a liability.
Clayton's shock quickly turned to that familiar, arrogant anger.
He accused me of faking my death for attention.
He told me I was sick for putting the family through such pain.
He even reached out to grab my arm, intending to drag me back to my father to apologize.
"You're coming with me," he spat. "You owe us an explanation."
But he made a fatal mistake.
He thought he was talking to Ivy Dillard, the soft girl who cried when she skinned her knees.
He didn't notice the town car waiting at the curb, or the man stepping out of it.
Before Clayton's fingers could graze my coat, a hand made of steel caught his wrist.
Collin Richardson, the most feared Capo in Chicago, stepped between us.
"Touch my wife again," Collin whispered, his voice promising violence. "And you lose the hand."
I smiled at the terror draining the color from Clayton's face.
I didn't come back from the dead to explain myself.
I came back to bury them.