All Good People Here Sequel Novels & Stories

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.

Inside the tattoo studio, Seth Jones let his fingertips trace the dip of Rita Searle's waist and move slowly up her spine. With a soft rustle, her dress slipped to her ankles. He stood over her, taking in the blood-red rose inked across her chest. They had been married for three years, and this was the anniversary gift he'd be giving her—999 roses tattooed into her skin. A broken sob scraped up Rita's throat. "Seth, it hurts… Please, stop…" Her tears splashed onto the back of his hand, but he only pressed the needle deeper, dragging it along until angry red welts marked her body. "Victor wanted those damn roses so he could give them to another woman, and that led to Tara falling off that cliff and ending up in a vegetative state. I'm just giving him what he wanted. You should be grateful." Lying on the cold tattoo table, Rita felt the chill spreading through her. Her eyes stung, weighed down by grief churning behind them. "Isn't it enough? You bought out Searle Group, you hung Victor over a cliff, and left him for the vultures. What else do you want from us?" Seth grabbed her by the throat and forced her chin up. "And isn't Tara innocent in all this? Rita, you and Victor destroyed her life. Don't you owe her for that?"

To protect the assistant who had been evading taxes, she deliberately gave false testimony in her role as my superior's wife, putting all the blame on me. I protested endlessly, but the law held me accountable. I was imprisoned for two months. Upon release, my colleagues turned against me, ostracizing me and destroying my promotion chances. Seeing that I neither cried nor caused a scene, my wife assumed that I had finally submitted. She even threatened to make amends with a lavish wedding for me. However, during the wedding vows, the assistant, suddenly overtaken by jealousy, ran to the company rooftop and threatened my wife with suicide to force her to cancel the wedding. My wife, who had always been obedient to him, panicked. She abandoned everyone at the ceremony and spent the entire night comforting her assistant. Afterwards, she calmly explained: "Wilson is young and impulsive. I was just afraid he might get hurt. Besides, you were released from prison so early thanks to him. He helped a lot. By right, he's still your lifesaver. I couldn't just abandon him." I looked at the couple rings she had just put on her finger, let out a faint hum, and said nothing. She believed I accepted her excuse and was pleased, even making an unprecedented promise: once she had calmed the assistant, she would take me on a honeymoon. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing. She had already signed the divorce papers, and I had filed a lawsuit in court to have the case heard. From that moment on, we were no longer husband and wife. We were only plaintiff and defendant.

Everyone said Colton Jones loved Whitney Thompson more than life itself. He had spent ten years pursuing her and cherishing her. If she furrowed her brow, he would worry over it for hours. Yet this same Colton betrayed her three times. The first time, he was drugged by a business rival at a corporate gala and spent the night with a female college student. The day Whitney asked for a divorce, he arranged for the young woman to be sent overseas overnight. Then he stood outside Whitney's apartment building in the pouring rain for three days and three nights. "I was wrong, Whitney," he said. "Please, forgive me just this once." Whitney looked at his pale face, and her heart softened.

My online boyfriend suddenly sent me a photo of his lunch—a steaming hot steak fresh off the grill. [Praise me, baby! I'm being a good boy and eating my lunch!] I was just about to send 'good boy' when my eyes darted downward, and I saw the conspicuous red letters on the edge of his plate. Mike Tech. What a coincidence—I worked at Mike Tech too… My heart skipped a beat as I froze right then, my mind going blank. But could it be? My online boyfriend, whom I had met over a year ago… was right there beside me?

Ada Okonkwo came to England with a master's degree and a broken heart she never fully acknowledged. Three years later, she is one of Sunridge Care Home's most dedicated workers the one who remembers every resident's favourite biscuit, who sings softly during the morning rounds, who gives love so freely to others that she has forgotten how to receive it herself. When social worker Daniel Osei walks into her care home for a routine assessment, Ada barely notices. But Daniel notices her the fierce way she advocates for her residents, the warmth she carries like a second uniform. Between demanding shifts, late-night phone calls with her mother in Nigeria, and the quiet wisdom of Gerald, an 81-year-old resident who sees Ada more clearly than she sees herself, love finds a way to clock in right on time. A story about care, connection, and the courage it takes to finally let someone take care of you.

My mother was dying. Her only wish before she passed was to see me married. For 27 days, I begged my girlfriend, Monica Teller, and she finally agreed to register for marriage with me on the 27th day. I waited at the courthouse until closing, but she never came. That same day, her childhood sweetheart, Gurney Barnes, posted their marriage certificate on social media. [Time sure flies. Three more days, and we'll have been married for a month.] It was then I finally realized that she had married her childhood sweetheart since the first day I started begging her. Not long after, an apology text from Monica buzzed on my phone. [I'm so sorry, Lincoln. Gurney's family was forcing him into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch him get shackled to a stranger. Just give it three days. We'll file for divorce. Three days later, I'll marry you." Three days later, she showed up at the courthouse in a wedding gown, But the only thing waiting for her was my message. [Goodbye, Monica. May we never meet again.]

"I reject you! Lucas Archer Farrow from the White Walkers Pack! From now on, I will be nobody's Luna but myself!" The youngest multi-billionaire Alpha in werewolf history turned out to be a woman. Leah Lewyn walked out of the airport in low profile and was immediately surrounded by hundreds of paparazzi. "Why did you reject your ex-husband, Alpha Lucas of the White Walkers?" a reporter asked. "Are you kidding me? I've got my own wolf pack to run and a gazillion-dollar fortune to inherit," she replied. "Is it true that you're currently having affairs with 8 young actors at the same time?" another reporter inquired. "Give me a break," Leah rolled her eyes and chuckled. "They're young aspiring contract models." She barely finished her words before someone walked out of the crowd and stated in a cold voice, "She is currently having an affair with no one else but me, her one and only ex-husband." "Miss Lewyn, I've got a wolf pack to run and a gazillion dollars as well. Why don't you come and be my Luna, so you can inherit my money?"

I built my wife’s family business from the ground up, sacrificing everything so that her world could thrive. The night I collapsed from stomach bleeding after too many business drinks, she was out laughing with her childhood sweetheart. She even had the nerve to call me dull and uptight. I smiled when I finally handed her the divorce papers. “I wish you both a happy life together.” But instead of signing it, she tore it to pieces, tears in her eyes. “I’m not letting you go,” she said.