Nouvelles Devotion Romance & Romans

The day my husband, Eric Johnson, brought his foster sister home from overseas, he gave her our master bedroom. "Yvonne just lost her husband. She's heartbroken, so I want her to feel comfortable," he said. I nodded obediently. "Okay." The next day was my birthday. Yvonne said she was feeling down and wanted her brother, Eric, to go stargazing with her. Eric turned to me and said, "She really needs me right now. I'll celebrate your birthday with you later." Still, I smiled and nodded. "Okay." Ten years of marriage and I was ready to walk away from it all… Because I have lived this life once already. In my previous life, I made the mistake of asking Eric to stay with me on my birthday. I did not let him go stargazing with Yvonne. She ended up falling into the water in her sorrow and was rushed to the hospital. After that, Eric shoved my head into a bathtub and held me there until I drowned. In this second life, when Eric handed me the divorce papers and said, "I’m only marrying Yvonne to help her revoke her foreign citizenship and restore her citizenship here. Once it's done, we'll remarry." I did not hesitate. I signed my name without a second thought. By the time he came looking for me again, I was already sitting on his archenemy's lap, smiling like a flower in full bloom.

Just as Justin proposed to me, a phone call interrupted him. Standing close by, I clearly heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Justin, I’m hurt. My leg hurts so much!” Justin snapped the ring box shut and looked at me. “Alice is injured. I’ll have to do this another time.” With those words, he sprinted away, leaving everyone around us staring in astonishment. I had never met Alice, but her presence lingered in every corner of our lives.  At meals, Justin would mention her fondness for sweet desserts.  When I dressed, I came to know her love for soft lavender hues. I argued, I wept, I lashed out, but Justin always countered with the same line. “You’re so jealous. Everyone has their first love. She’s my past, but you’re my future.” So, I turned to a man who had once called me his first love—Quentin—and made a bold proposition. “Let’s get married.”

After I accidentally uploaded a rant post instead of my resignation letter, the messages went like this. Me: [Did you see the file I submitted?] He: [Mm… yeah. I saw it.] Me: [Then why didn't you reply? You don't approve?] He went quiet. I lost my patience and typed back, [If you're not saying anything, I'll take that as a yes. I'll come by your office this afternoon.] He replied almost instantly. [That fast?] Me: [Fast? How is that fast?] He: [I need some time to think.] Two seconds later, another message came in. [Is that okay?] I said yes. He ended up leaving work early and even gave the entire company three days off. Sitting at my desk, I thought about it for a long time. He was the owner of the company, yet there he was, acting like he was afraid I might leave. Was he really that desperate to keep me?

After I married into a rich family as my older sister's stand-in, my powerful husband didn't touch me for six months. Then I overheard his friend. "You chased her ten years just to marry her, and you still won't touch her?" He looked down, smiling bitter. "I have a problem... I'm scared I'd scare her off." That night I stormed into his room and slapped the divorce papers on the nightstand. "Two choices—sleep with me or sign." He ripped the papers apart and pinned me to the wall, something wild breaking loose in his eyes. "Third choice... I make sure you can't get out of bed tomorrow."

Yvonne Sunderland married Zach Frank, who had been with her for ten years. In the second year of their marriage, Zach passed away due to a plane accident. But when Yvonne turned forty-three, she met her supposedly dead husband! Before she could even ask any questions, disaster struck. An avalanche suddenly struck. During the critical moment, Zach was buried under the snow in order to protect her and that woman. His final words were, “I’ve repaid you all of your favors with my life. If I can redo my life, I don’t want to marry you and would rather meet her first…” When she opened her eyes again, Yvonne found herself back to the first year she married Zach.

My childhood sweetheart has aplastic anemia and desperately needs a bone marrow transplant. His brother agrees to help, but there's a catch. "I can save him, but you need to marry me." My lover ultimately dies because of medical negligence. I'm heartbroken but still marry Martin Steinfeld per my promise. During the wedding, he gets on one knee before me. His gaze is loving as he says, "I'll treat you well for life, Audrey Lynch. I'll be a thousand times better than Henry; I won't let you shed another tear." I look at his face, which is so much like Henry Steinfeld's. I believe him. Three years after our marriage, I'm five months along when I stumble upon Martin with his mistress. He wraps an arm around her and sighs. "She still can't forget about that dead guy despite us being married for so long. She's not like you, who only has eyes for me. "If not for her insisting on marrying Henry and ruining my future, I wouldn't have had to take my own brother down so much earlier than planned." My blood runs cold, and I tremble all over. Hatred consumes me, and I only have one thought—I have to destroy Martin!

I had been in a relationship with Harry Chalamet for ten years. He stood up for me and even ended up in the hospital after a fight. He financially supported me in my education by laboring on construction sites. Even my friends could tell that he was madly in love with me, and I believed it too. Just when we were about to get married, I noticed he often secretly stared blankly at a photo. But the person in that photo wasn’t me…

“Boo, I’ll call you once I’ve booked my plane ticket.” Lily Lark was shocked. “Have you finally come around?” Aqua Chronos was not done speaking, but the noise outside ruined her mood. At that point, John Frank and Will Lane must be throwing a celebration for Samara Queen. Aqua walked out of the washroom and wanted to head to the president’s office to hand in her resignation letter. But Samara saw Aqua and beckoned her over. She spoke cutely and sweetly, “Aqua, are you leaving alone again? Come over and have some fun with us!” Everyone in the room heard her. “No need. Have fun.”

On the same day we were registering our marriage, my boyfriend, Levi Salfolk, had someone throw me out of the clerk's office while he led his childhood sweetheart inside. He looked at me nonchalantly. "Rosalie's child can't be illegitimate. I'll marry you once we get divorced." Everyone thought that the lovestruck me would wait for him for another month. After all, I had already waited for him for seven years. However, I went overseas that night, accepting the arranged marriage my family had set up for me and disappearing from his world. Three years later, I accompanied my husband back home to pay our respects to his ancestors. Something came up, and my husband sent someone from the local branch office to pick me up. Unexpectedly, I met Levi, whom I had not seen since I left. "Enough with the fooling around. Come back. Rosalie's child is starting preschool soon. You're in charge of picking up and dropping off the child."

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

The moment I opened the door, I never imagined that my fiancé would be in bed with my best friend, both of them wearing nothing. I went absolutely crazy and charged toward them, wanting nothing more than to kill the two of them. But my fiancé shoved me to the floor and, turning it around, blamed me instead. "Rosalind," he sneered, "if you hadn't been so self-righteous and refused to sleep with me, I wouldn't have cheated!" Fine. Since he no longer wanted me, I married his older brother. On the day of the wedding, I smiled at him and said, "Norris, guess what? I'm your sister-in-law now."

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

To keep me from becoming a spinster, my father spared no expense in finding me a husband. Seduced by a handsome face, I rushed into a whirlwind marriage with a charming young gentleman. Little did I imagine that this gentleman would prove more dissolute than I. Not only did he hold clandestine meetings with four different women, but he was also legally married. Upon finding that out, I fled with my baby without hesitation. But there was something I could not fathom. Why did the fugitive the new king was hunting bear my exact face?

I was a two-hundred-pound girl. But on the night of graduation, I slept with Nova, captain of the Ashbury Ravens hockey team. The next morning, laughter drifted down the hotel hallway from his teammates. "Nova slipped his room key to Sienna last night, right?" "What, you think he'd give it to the Zamboni? That tub of lard. One look at her gives you nightmares for three days." "Did you guys see her reporter's notebook? It's covered in Nova's name. She's actually got a crush on Nova. Disgusting." So the room key that had slipped into my notebook wasn't meant for me. And the name he murmured against me in the dark wasn't mine either. My eyes burned with humiliation. I got dressed, walked out alone, and disappeared for six years. Six years later, my mother, Diane Quinn, was three months behind on her dialysis bills, and the sports website I worked for was on its last legs. My editor, Claire Bennett, slapped a file on my desk. "Nova. Newly crowned MVP. Not one interview in six years. Land him, or you're out."

The year my family goes bankrupt, I cling to Ewan Rivera for one last night. When I wake up, I throw my final bit of money at him. "You can go cozy up to some other sugar mommy now. You don't need to degrade yourself by serving an ugly woman like me." I'm kicked out by the people liquidating our assets, and everyone points and laughs at the birthmark on my face. Meanwhile, Ewan's friends are busy celebrating his fresh start. "With a face like yours, tons of wealthy, gorgeous women are lining up for you. Why torture yourself with that ugly chick?" "Now that she's bankrupt, she won't cling to you anymore, right?" Five years later, Ewan has gone from being a broke campus heartthrob to a rising star in business. In the interview room, he flips through my application and pauses on my photo. He asks coolly, "You're 28? You already have a child?" I meet his probing gaze and introduce myself. "Yes. I'm Ingrid Landeau. I'm married with a daughter." I've changed my name and removed the large birthmark on my face. Ewan can't recognize me anymore.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used to fall apart over everything." He was right. The old me would have thrown a fit over something as small as him forgetting to cut my steak. But ever since the miscarriage, my heart had been dying by slow degrees. When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I wanted him to be the first to know. But I couldn't reach him, no matter how many times I called. I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged. That very afternoon, while I lay on the operating table, a photo of him and that woman hit the entertainment headlines. He never even knew I had carried a child. Now there was only one last thing I wanted from him. To drive me up to the northern coast, and bury me with his own hands. But when he realized I had truly vanished from this world, he came undone.

My childhood friend, Flynn Carter, is the college's undisputed ice hockey star and campus heartthrob. Too bad he has a secret no one knows about. Because he's "allergic" to women and hates physical intimacy, he's stayed single well into adulthood. Over time, rumors have spread around campus that there's something wrong with him in that department. But no one will ever guess what this cold, unapproachable god is like once he comes home. One night, I return to the apartment we share after my evening class. I walk in just in time to see Flynn holding my freshly washed bra in his hand, a faint crease between his brows as he asks, "Why do you even have pink ones?"

I spend ten years helping my fiancé fight and claw his way to the top. Finally, he becomes the head of the local mafia. But once he has everything, he falls for another woman. Suddenly, he wants nothing to do with the promise he made to marry me. Just as he boasts about throwing her the wedding of the century, one of his men can't hold back his confusion. "Olivia stood by you through everything. Weren't you crazy about her? And now you're marrying someone else?" Joshua Harding snuffs out his cigarette, slowly turning the silver couple's ring he shares with Abigail Mauser between his fingers. "Olivia?" He scoffs. "She's got blood on her hands. How could she ever compare to my sweet, innocent Abigail?" The subordinate hesitates. "But Olivia's sharp. If she finds out and turns against you, then what?" Joshua frowns before smirking coldly. "Belcove is completely under my control. It's not like I'll lose it without her around." Little does he know I'm standing outside and listening to every word. I drop the medicine I brought him into the trash and pull out my phone. I text his biggest rival, Michael Sheridan. "Want Joshua's turf and his life? I'm handing them to you!"

After celebrating our tenth anniversary, my wife suddenly drops her ring into my palm. "Don't you feel like our life has gotten pretty boring? Maybe we should just get a divorce."

I brought my son, who was around a year old, to visit my parents’ graves, only to run into my childhood friend’s mother. She asked me whether I had returned because I was no longer angry. “Yelena, you’re finally back! You must’ve returned to marry Niel. “I’ll make sure your wedding goes smoothly this time. I won’t allow any random person to ruin it!” Niel Stalner was my childhood friend and ex-fiance. During my engagement party, Cloud Stalner, his foster sister, had barged in while wearing the same gown as I did. She also said that she would kill herself if Niel refused to leave with her. The guests burst into a ruckus, and in the end, I was left alone in the venue. Everyone criticized me, and Niel’s family abandoned me. Eventually, I left the country like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. I smiled at Neil’s mother, Iris, and pushed the baby stroller forward. “Iris, are you seriously telling me that Niel hasn’t married Cloud yet? Anyway, Michael, say hello.”