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I gave him nine years. Nine years of stretching every coin, raising our son alone, sleeping on my side of the bed because I could not bring myself to take his. Nine years of telling Dave his father was working hard so they could have a better life. I believed it myself. Until I saw him on a public street with his hand on another woman’s waist, looking at her the way I spent nine years waiting for him to look at me. When he crossed the pavement it was not to apologise. It was to tell me she was his wife. Six months married. He told me to keep things calm, walked back to her, and introduced me as his cousin. The divorce papers came that same night. I needed a job immediately. For my son. For the bills that would not wait for me to finish falling apart. So I pulled myself together the way I always do and kept moving. I did not expect Mac Harlow. I did not expect him to run three blocks to return my dropped folder or offer me a job despite his sister’s calls to have me removed. I did not expect his daughter to find my son within ten minutes and decide they were already family. I did not expect to discover that the man I was starting to trust was connected to everything I was trying to leave behind. He did not know. I believe that. But Marshall knows now that someone else sees what he threw away. And he wants it back. He is nine years too late. Mac is looking at me like I am worth staying for. Not fixing. Not managing. Staying for. I spent nine years being someone’s afterthought. Never again.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

That night, it all crashed. Three years. The moment she pulled open that particular bedside drawer in his bedroom and saw those papers, the truth sliced her deeper than any blade. It was never her. Has never been. The divorce he handed her felt like the final betrayal, a signature sealing years of lies. And she left with nothing but her pride vowing never to turn back. But, a year later, fate deals a cruel twist when they clash over the same billion-dollar deal only for the investor to demand, 'Work together or walk away'. Now, bound by a forced partnership, he regrets letting her go while she wonders if this partnership will heal her heart or break it all over again.

I signed the divorce papers on a Tuesday. No tears. No phone calls. No begging. I just picked up the pen, signed my name, and let Dominic Hartley go. For four years, I tried to be everything a good wife should be. I put my career on hold. I pushed my dreams aside. I made myself smaller so he could feel bigger. And somehow, it still wasn’t enough. He looked through me like I wasn’t really there. I loved him quietly while he built his empire, not realizing he was slowly tearing mine down. When he filed for divorce, I think he expected me to fall apart. I didn’t. I started over. A new apartment. A new job. A version of myself I hadn’t seen in a long time. And for the first time in years, I felt like me again. While he stayed in his perfect penthouse, surrounded by everything money could buy and nothing that felt real, I was finally learning how to be happy. That’s when he noticed me. Of course. Too late. Now Dominic Hartley, the man who never had to chase anything, is chasing me. Calling. Showing up. Saying all the things I used to beg to hear. But I’m not that woman anymore. And I’ve learned what he hasn’t. Love isn’t enough to go back to something that broke you. He wants another chance. I just don’t know if he’s really changed… or if I’m the one thing he can’t get back.

Book two. Please read "Not All That Glitters" before "Not All Who Wander Are Lost."Christmas 2019 in Auburn brought with it a chance for new beginnings. Complicated relationships started to mend and different recoveries were being made. As far as Whitney York and Hollis Bogard were concerned, they knew every hardship they'd face from that point on would be easier since they had each other for support.Fast forward to May, five months later. While making the last minute preparations for she and Whitney's Christmas gift to New York for a week, Hollis gets some disheartening news. If that weren't bad enough, patching things up with her parents was turning out to be a long, winding road. Dalton's prolonged, stressful testimonies to ensure he gets more than a cash settlement from the wealthy prick who put him in a wheelchair after driving drunk is the last straw. As Hollis starts wrestling with her inner demons again, slipping downward is inevitable. Will she confide in Whitney, or risk relapsing?Since disowning her, Whitney stopped hearing from her perfect family altogether. While the lovers are wrapping up in New York, she suddenly comes face to face with Hollywood's latest headliner;Theresa, her famous sister, has died. Urged to attend the funeral, Whitney makes it clear she won't go without Hollis, the very person her parents blame for staying in Maine.Buckle in! Disclaimer: Strong mature content, graphic scenes, drug usage. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.2020 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don't attempt to steal any part of my work.

My wife's first love—the man who had disappeared ten years ago—finally came back. She still believed I was the one who had torn them apart, and she hated me just as much as she had back then. To make him happy, she withheld the money my mother desperately needed for treatment and said to me, "Honey, I'm not heartless. But you ruined my relationship for money. You brought this on yourself. "Now it's time to pay for what you did. Kneel before Gideon, bow your head a hundred times, and say 'I was wrong' a thousand times. Do that, and I'll give you like, five or six million dollars, so your mom can get the best treatment." To save my mother, I slammed my forehead against the floor until it split open and apologized until my voice gave out. My wife was finally satisfied. She pulled five one-dollar bills from her pocket, tossed them at me, and burst into laughter. "I meant five dollars or six million dollars. You actually fell for it." I cried and begged her to at least give me back the money I had saved. My gravely ill mother needed it. She looked at me with nothing but contempt and kicked me aside. "It's been ten years. I thought you'd grown up by now. Instead, you're still the same. You'd even lie about your own mother being sick just to scam me out of money. You're a disgrace to her." To punish me for what she called my greed, she locked me in a walk-in freezer for ten hours. When I was finally let out, the only news waiting for me was that my mother had died. Then my wife sent me a six-million-dollar transfer. "This money is for your mom. Don't you dare keep it for yourself. I'll check with her myself to make sure every cent goes to her." Without even looking at it, I sent the money back. She never knew that the one who had betrayed her and ran away ten years ago was Gideon. The only reason I agreed to deceive her was to repay the debt my mother owed her family. Ten years had passed. The debt had finally been repaid. And it was time for me to leave.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.