
Conflicted Hearts Trilogy
ADB_Stories · Ongoing · 111.8k Words
Introduction
During the day, Nalani Contreras works at the local diner, while at night, she's bussing tables at one of the most exclusive clubs in LA.
Though struggling to pay her bills, Nalani feels blessed and contented with her life, making her in no way prepared for the storm about to tear through her peaceful existence.
A chance encounter sees Nalani gaining the attention of famous actor Julian Easton.
But what begins as a whirlwind romance, quickly becomes a series of events filled with lies, betrayal and an unknown assailant wishing her harm.
When all is said and done, will Nalani find herself Treasured or Discarded?
Book 2 - Coveted But Unseen (coming in 2025)
Book 3 - Forbidden Though Desired (coming in 2026)
Chapter 1
“Order up!”
The dinging of a service bell pulls me from my reverie, and back to reality. I walk over to the order window, grab the two plates on the ledge and carry them over to one of the booths by the window.
“One, Richie’s Cheeseburger and one, Howard’s Hot Dog,” I announce as I place the plates down in front of the customers. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Actually, yeah. Could I get a strawberry milkshake and a cola spider for my son?” the young father requests, causing the young boy’s face to light up with excitement.
“Coming right up,” I say brightly, walking off to work on their drink order.
“Lani, can you help me? I can’t for the life of me read my own friggin handwriting,” groans Áine in frustration, her warm Irish accent making her groaning sound more adorable than it should.
“And you think the non-native English speaker is going to have a better time?” I tease.
“Pleeease,” she begs, “You’re just better at this stuff,” she says, holding up her order pad, a sad exaggerated pout plastered on her freckled face.
I look closely, trying to decipher the scribble that bears a striking resemblance to a child’s doodle more than anything I’ve ever seen in any of the languages I speak.
“I’m pretty sure you wrote down an iced mocha and an iced latte, but I didn’t take the order so I can’t be sure. Why don’t you just go to your table and ask?” I suggest, continuing to work on my drink order.
“Because…” she hesitates, nervously playing with a loose strand of her long, curly, red locks that are otherwise secured in a bun on her head.
“Because…why?”
“Because I might have already gotten their first order mixed up and I really don’t want to embarrass myself again,” she confesses.
I sigh. “Áine, I can’t handle your tables and mine. You need to toughen up and just go and confirm the order. If you don’t, you risk screwing up another order and then chances are it’s going to have to get comped, and Gary is already in a foul mood today.”
She takes in a deep breath and squares her shoulders, “You’re right. I just need to suck it up, confirm the order and then there’s no issue. I can do this.”
“You can do this,” I encourage her.
“I can do this,” she chants like a mantra as she walks towards her table.
I shake my head. Poor thing. Áine is a lovely person, but her elevator just doesn’t go all the way to the top. It’s like the building has ten floors, she stops at five and then she has to take the stairs the rest of the way. She’ll get there eventually, but it’s going to take her some time. I still adore her though.
Áine Hayes and I are both waitresses at the Happy Days Diner in West Hollywood. It’s this amazing 1950s-themed diner that takes more than a few creative ideas from the famous TV show Happy Days. The owner, Gary Belafonte – no relation to the singer – is a huge Happy Days fan and even put a lot of his collected memorabilia into the décor. It’s one of the most popular spots in We-Ho and is always busy. I’ve been working here for five years, ever since I moved to the United States from my home in the Dominican Republic.
I came into this diner by chance one day to rest my feet and get something to eat. Gary saw I was struggling and was very kind to me. I explained I was trying to find work and was still adapting to a new country, so he offered me a job and I’ve been here ever since. I know it’s not common for people to say this about their place of employment, but I love it here! The customers are usually really nice and it’s a super fun atmosphere. I even love the uniform. A true 50s-style baby pink waitress uniform with a white collar, white trim around puffy sleeves, and white tennis shoes. I suppose we could wear any shoes we like, but these just make the outfit look so cute and vintage.
When I started working here, I tried watching that show 2 Broke Girls, for tips on how to be a waitress. Bad idea. I don’t know any woman, rich or poor, who is working eight to twelve-hour shifts at a diner in high heels. I know it’s a sitcom but come on. What woman hates themself enough to put their feet through that kind of torture?
I finish making the drinks and take them over to the table with a pleasant smile. As I walk back to the counter, I see a mother trying to tend to her toddler when the toddler tosses its teething rattle on the floor. I quickly walk over and pick it up.
“Thank you,” says the mother appreciatively.
“If you like I can go and wash this out back for you; try and get the floor germs off,” I kindly offer.
“Would you? That would be so wonderful, thank you” she says, looking touched and surprised.
“It’s not a problem; will only take me a moment. I’ll be right back,” I smile at her.
I quickly go into the kitchen, wash the teething rattle under the hot water with some soap, make sure it’s perfectly clean and dry, and then return it. The toddler looks happy to have their rattle back and the mother looks relieved and grateful, and I feel good for doing a good deed. Everyone wins.
I see a few empty tables, so I go to pick up their bill. I try not to look as disheartened as I feel when I open the receipt book and find my table generously graced me with a one-dollar tip. I take in a deep breath and walk over to the till to settle the bill and my “tip”. One of the downsides of this job is that it relies so heavily on tips and customers just aren’t interested in tipping. I can’t really blame them, especially in this economy. Everyone is struggling and can’t afford to part with a dime, but such a small tip still stings.
I go back to the table, load the plates and glasses in my arms and make my way out to the kitchen, using my butt to push open the swinging door. I carry the dishes over to the sink and stack them, ready to be cleaned. I scrub my hands down my apron as I turn to leave the kitchen, but I almost jump out of my skin when I find myself face-to-face with the diner’s line cook.
You know how I said I love it here? I take that back. There is at least one thing I absolutely loathe about this place and it’s currently staring me in the face.
“Lani, I love when you find excuses to come back here and see me,” he teases, resting his hand on the sink behind me, leaning far too close for comfort as I do my best to ignore his lecherous gaze.
“Dylan, I’ve told you before I really don’t like it when you call me ‘Lani’,” I say calmly but forcefully.
I attempt to side-step out of his proximity, but he quickly places his other arm on the sink, caging me in. He leans in closer, and I instinctively hold my breath to avoid breathing in his vape breath. I don’t care what flavours they make for that artificial smoke; his breath still smells like something crawled in his mouth and died.
“You let everyone else call you ‘Lani’,” he argues with clear irritation in his voice.
“I let my friends call me ‘Lani’, you’re not my friend, so I’d prefer it if you stuck to calling me Nalani.” There’s a little more bite to my tone than I intend but this guy is working my last nerve.
Dylan McNamara has been working here for the past year and I swear, the times we’re forced to work the same shift I strongly consider moving back to the DR. He’s not a bad-looking guy. He’s 6’5”, lean, clean-shaven, shaggy blonde hair but in that intentional shaggy way. Minus the hair colour, he looks like a young Milo Ventimiglia. But while aesthetically he might be good-looking by society’s standards, I think he’s the ugliest, most grotesque man I have ever met, and I use the term ‘man’ loosely.
“Come on, Lani. I want to be your friend, but you won’t let me.” He leans in closer, his nose moving close to my neck as I hear him inhale, making my stomach drop in revulsion. “Fuck, you smell good.”
I push my way out of his hold and put some much-needed space between us, the urge to scrub myself clean with a steel wool brush taking over me. I have made several complaints about Dylan’s behaviour and as nice as the owner is, he never takes them seriously. I’ve told him about how Dylan is constantly trying to ask me out and won’t take no for an answer. The way he does shit like this, trying to touch me, smell me, it makes me sick. He’s always looking at me, or down my dress. I try to keep as much of my chest covered as I can when I’m at work just so he has nothing to look at. I shouldn’t have to do any of this shit!
“For fuck sake Dylan, how many times do I have to tell you to leave the woman alone? Now walk away and get back to fucking work or you’ll be meeting with an unfortunate cooking accident,” warns Esteban, the head cook.
“We’re just having a little fun, man. Don’t get your sombrero in a twist,” says Dylan, rolling his eyes as he gets back to work, but not before giving me one final once over with his piercing icy-blue eyes, much to my chagrin. They feel like shards of ice piercing my skin whenever he looks at me and I hate it.
“Don’t worry, Lani. I’ve got your back. This one ever messes with you and I’m happy to toss his ass in the deep fryer,” says Estaban comfortingly, switching to Spanish so Dylan can’t understand us.
I chuckle, feeling my rattled nerves easing just a little. “Thank you, Estaban. It’s nice knowing someone around here isn’t willing to let this shit slide.”
“Nepotism at its best.” I look at him quizzically, not understanding what he means by that. “Oh, did you not know?” he asks in surprise.
“Know what?”
“The gringo is Gary’s nephew, his sister’s son. Apparently, he was getting fired from all his other jobs – can’t imagine why – and she begged Gary to let him work here. So, he hired el degenerado, to work here.”
I stare at him flabbergasted. A whole year and I never knew Dylan was Gary’s nephew! It never clicked because they look nothing alike and they don’t share a last name, but knowing Dylan is Gary’s sister’s son clears that up. Now it makes sense why Gary won’t fire him, but that doesn’t make this okay. I’ve been working here since I was twenty-three and I’m a good employee. I have customers who come in just because they like my company. I’m good for business, unlike Dylan, who makes women never want to come back and on more than one occasion has pissed off someone’s boyfriend or father for leering at the wrong girl. Blood is not a good enough reason to let this slide.
“This explains so much.”
“You two better not be talking about me,” Dylan grumbles, glaring at us with suspicion.
“You mind your own business and get back to manning the grill,” Estaban snaps back in perfect English.
Estaban De León reminds me so much of my dad. I miss my family so much, and it’s hard being so far away from them, but Estaban makes it a little bit easier. He’s fifty-five and stands at 5’5” but what he lacks in height he makes up for in attitude. He has tight curly salt and pepper hair that he tends to keep slicked back with gel while he works. He has warm espresso eyes, a gorgeous olive complexion and a thick, warm brown goatee. He’s rather toned, looks physically fit and still very much a looker. His wife is a lucky woman. Because Estaban originates from Guatemala and I come from the DR our Spanish isn’t exactly the same, but it’s still similar enough that we can carry on a conversation just fine. The differences just give us things to talk about or laugh over.
We’re kind of a rag-tag team of immigrants here – not counting Dylan. Áine’s parents are from Ireland, and she inherited every Irish stereotype: red hair, fair skin, freckles, and green eyes. She’s 5’1”, voluptuous as hell, and absolutely gorgeous. She’s only twenty-one, but she has an old soul. There’s also Bernadette whose parents are German, and then there’s Tariq who is from Syria. The rest are all American, but those of us from other countries, or with parents who immigrated from other countries, tend to stick together. Overall everyone at the diner gets along. Just not with Dylan.
“Lani, you’ve got some new customers,” Áine announces through the server window.
“Coming!” I give Estaban a warm smile and walk out, smoothing out my apron and putting on my best customer service face.
Áine walks over and leans in lowering her voice. “Is everything okay?”
“Dylan.”
“Say no more,” she sneers, only to jump to attention when a patron orders a refill on his coffee.
I grab four menus from the stack, walk over to one of my booths now housing four new customers and grace them with my best smile as I distribute their menus, “Welcome to the Happy Days Diner, what can I get you today?”
Last Chapters
#66 EPILOGUE
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#65 Chapter Sixty-Five
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#64 Chapter Sixty-Four
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#63 Chapter Sixty-Three
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#62 Chapter Sixty-Two
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#61 Chapter Sixty-One
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#60 Chapter Sixty
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#59 Chapter Fifty-Nine
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#58 Chapter Fifty-Eight
Last Updated: 1/21/2026#57 Chapter Fifty-Seven
Last Updated: 1/21/2026
You Might Like 😍
On Christmas Eve, I aborted the CEO's child
On Christmas Eve night, my husband brought his mistress home and demanded that I, his pregnant wife, leave with nothing.
On this day, I lost my husband and also lost the child in my womb...
I Loved You in Silence, You Betrayed Me in French
At my birthday party, my husband whispered to his mistress in French that he missed her. His voice was low, but I heard it all—the black lingerie, the bit about how pregnancy makes you more sensitive. His French clients around us were laughing. He turned and put his arm around me, claiming he was just helping his clients come up with sweet nothings.
He doesn't know I understand every single word. Just like he doesn't know that inside my body, I'm carrying his other surprise. And his mistress—she's pregnant too. Two wombs, one secret.
Confrontation would be too cheap. Tears are worthless. I quietly started cataloging the hidden networks my father left behind, activating the Swiss accounts.
In seven days, Zoey Smith will cease to exist. And what will my husband's reaction be?
When I Disappeared, He Regretted It
The moment the screen lit up, my entire world came crashing down.
The woman on the bed was Calista - that girl who grew up with us since we were kids. And that hand caressing her skin was wearing the wedding ring I had personally put on Matteo's finger.
"I've missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."
Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.
Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on nothing but lies?
Since he's so good at acting, I guess it's time I gave him a show of my own. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what this "perfect husband" really is...
He Never Loved Me, Until I Left
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"
He Thought I'd Never Leave
When he said he was being bullied, I believed him. When he kissed me on that rooftop, I thought he felt the same. When he asked me to transfer schools with him, I said yes without hesitation.
Then I heard him bragging to his friends: "She'd save her first time for me. Hell, she'd still be thinking of me on her wedding night."
The bullying was staged. The kiss meant nothing. He just wanted me gone—so his new girl could feel more comfortable.
He thought I'd beg. He thought I'd cry. He thought I'd never actually leave.
I left the country.
And ran straight into his stepbrother.
I Died While They Threw Her a Party
Their real daughter came home. She'd only been back two years. That's all it took to erase twenty-four.
When kidnappers grabbed us, I used my body as a shield. They beat me until something inside me ruptured. I was dying from internal bleeding, but no one could tell.
My parents wouldn't even look at me. "This is your fault! None of this would've happened if it weren't for you!"
"Get downstairs and apologize to your sister. If you can't, pack your things and get out."
They threw her a party at a downtown hotel while I died alone in my room.
I thought they'd be relieved. Maybe even glad. I thought they'd just move on like I never existed.
But when they finally learned the truth, they fell apart.
Bury Me in His Regret
The kidnapper pressed the gun to my temple and asked, "Choose your wife or your sister-in-law?"
Zachary didn't hesitate. "Let Valerie go," he said.
He actually chose to save his sister-in-law! In that moment, even the baby in my belly seemed to stop kicking.
Later, they locked me in the basement. Drugs to delay labor were pumped into my veins over and over. Zachary wanted to save the "firstborn son" status for his sister-in-law's child.
When warm blood finally soaked through my skirt, I dialed the number I knew by heart with shaking hands.
"Zachary," I whispered into the phone, "our child... can't wait any longer."
The Kidney That Killed Me
A few months ago, my sister was hospitalized with kidney failure. The doctor said she needed a transplant. My family's first thought was me—the backup daughter they'd kept around all these years.
When my husband Allen took my hand with tears in his eyes and said, "Only you can save her," I agreed without hesitation.
When the doctor explained the surgical risks and potential complications, I smiled and nodded my understanding.
My parents said I'd finally learned what sisterly love meant.
Even Allen, who'd always been cold to me, held my hand gently and said, "The surgery's safe. You're so healthy, nothing will go wrong. When you recover, I'll take you to Hawaii."
But they don't know that no matter how the surgery goes, I won't be around to celebrate.
Because I just got my own test results—I have terminal brain cancer. I'm going to die anyway.
After the Affair: Falling into a Billionaire's Arms
From first crush to wedding vows, George Capulet and I had been inseparable. But in our seventh year of marriage, he began an affair with his secretary.
On my birthday, he took her on vacation. On our anniversary, he brought her to our home and made love to her in our bed...
Heartbroken, I tricked him into signing divorce papers.
George remained unconcerned, convinced I would never leave him.
His deceptions continued until the day the divorce was finalized. I threw the papers in his face: "George Capulet, from this moment on, get out of my life!"
Only then did panic flood his eyes as he begged me to stay.
When his calls bombarded my phone later that night, it wasn't me who answered, but my new boyfriend Julian.
"Don't you know," Julian chuckled into the receiver, "that a proper ex-boyfriend should be as quiet as the dead?"
George seethed through gritted teeth: "Put her on the phone!"
"I'm afraid that's impossible."
Julian dropped a gentle kiss on my sleeping form nestled against him. "She's exhausted. She just fell asleep."
Alpha Nicholas's Little Mate
What? No—wait… oh Moon Goddess, no.
Please tell me you're joking, Lex.
But she's not. I can feel her excitement bubbling under my skin, while all I feel is dread.
We turn the corner, and the scent hits me like a punch to the chest—cinnamon and something impossibly warm. My eyes scan the room until they land on him. Tall. Commanding. Beautiful.
And then, just as quickly… he sees me.
His expression twists.
"Fuck no."
He turns—and runs.
My mate sees me and runs.
Bonnie has spent her entire life being broken down and abused by the people closest to her including her very own twin sister. Alongside her best friend Lilly who also lives a life of hell, they plan to run away while attending the biggest ball of the year while it's being hosted by another pack, only things don't quite go to plan leaving both girls feeling lost and unsure about their futures.
Alpha Nicholas is 28, mateless, and has no plans to change that. It's his turn to host the annual Blue Moon Ball this year and the last thing he expects is to find his mate. What he expects even less is for his mate to be 10 years younger than him and how his body reacts to her. While he tries to refuse to acknowledge that he has met his mate his world is turned upside down after guards catch two she-wolves running through his lands.
Once they are brought to him he finds himself once again facing his mate and discovers that she's hiding secrets that will make him want to kill more than one person.
Can he overcome his feelings towards having a mate and one that is so much younger than him? Will his mate want him after already feeling the sting of his unofficial rejection? Can they both work on letting go of the past and moving forward together or will fate have different plans and keep them apart?
Omega Bound
Thane Knight is the alpha of the Midnight Pack of the La Plata Mountain Range, the largest wolf shifter pack in the world. He is an alpha by day and hunts the shifter trafficking ring with his group of mercenaries by night. His hunt for vengeance leads to one raid that changes his life.
Tropes:
Touch her and die/Slow burn romance/Fated Mates/Found family twist/Close circle betrayal/Cinnamon roll for only her/Traumatized heroine/Rare wolf/Hidden powers/Knotting/Nesting/Heats/Luna/Attempted assassination
The Human Among Wolves
My stomach twisted, but he wasn’t finished.
"You're just a pathetic little human," Zayn said, his words deliberate, each one hitting like a slap. "Spreading your legs for the first guy who bothers to notice you."
Heat rushed to my face, burning with humiliation. My chest ached — not from his words alone, but from the sick realization that I had trusted him. That I had let myself believe he was different.
I was so, so stupid.
——————————————————
When eigteen-year-old Aurora Wells moves to a sleepy town with her parents, the last thing she expects is to be enrolled in a secret academy for werewolves.
Moonbound Academy is no ordinary school. It's here young Lycans, Betas and Alphas train in shifting, elemental magic, and ancient pack laws. But Aurora? She's just...human. a mistake. The new receptionist forgot to check her species - and now she's surrounded by predators who sense she doesn't belong.
Determined to stay under the radar, Aurora plans to survive the year unnoticed. But when she catches the attention of Zayn, a brooding and infuriatingly powerful Lycan prince, her life gets a lot more complicated. Zayn already has a mate. He already has enemies. And he definitely doesn't want anything to do with a clueless human.
But secrets run deeper than bloodlines at Moonbound. as Aurora unravels the truth about the academy - and herself - she begins to question everything she thought she knew.
Including the reason she was brought here at all.
Enemies will rise. Loyalties will shift. And the girl with no place in their world...might be the key to saving it.












