Novel & Cerita Being There Novel

Matilda, a young lady living in Oxford in 2015, sees no harm in reading a poem about true love that she finds in an antique bookstore. Matilda is confused when she wakes up and finds her self transported back in time to the 15th century. Her situation is made worse when she finds out that in this new life of hers, she has a husband. She tries to explain her predicament to him but he thinks she is his wife that lost her memory. Will Matilda find her way back to the 21st century or will she remain in the 15th century where she finds everything strange?

When I'm about to apply for medical insurance for my son, Connor Sawyer, who's about to start his first year in kindergarten, I'm told that I'm not his biological father at all. "Are you sure this is your son? The system shows that his father is an entirely different person." I don't respond at all. Instead, I secretly take a photo of the unfamiliar-looking address before tracking it down. It turns out that it's actually a residential area right by my own. The moment my wife, Giselle Lambert, sees me, she freezes momentarily. At the same time, she blocks the door subconsciously with her hand. "In the end, you still found out about the truth. But there's no use kicking up a fuss, you know. I never mistreated you in any way over the past three years, after all." When I notice the familiar figure standing behind Giselle, I feel my limbs going cold. That person is actually my younger brother, Vincent Sawyer, who has just graduated from college. Vincent hands Giselle a glass of water before smiling at me apologetically. "Don't blame me, Hayden. The doctor says that I'm severely depressed, so I can't handle hearing a child's cries at all. I'm really thankful to you for raising Connor on my behalf in the past few years." At that moment, Connor, who's supposed to be waiting for me in my car, rushes into the apartment. He runs into Vincent's arms happily before turning to look at me. "Don't cry, Uncle Hayden. Daddy says you're a good person, so he's asked you for help. Mommy tells me that if I call you 'daddy' in your home, I'll get to visit my real daddy during the weekends."

"Does it… does it feel good? Playing with another man's wife… on another man's bed… does it feel good…" Late at night, my naked sister-in-law lay sprawled on the bed, her round hips constantly pressing back as she let out moans that trembled with pleasure—the very picture of a woman thoroughly satisfied.

"Father, I accept the marriage alliance with the Blackwood Pack." Silence stretched on his end of the link before he finally replied, "Caterina, are you certain?" "I am." I didn't tell him the real reason. Last night, a heart-shattering agony ripped through our Mate Bond, through that damned bond, I saw everything— My mate, Alpha Rocco, was in the cabin on his private hunting grounds, pinning his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett, against the wall and kissing her with a desperate frenzy. I confronted Scarlett directly at the pack meeting, a flicker of triumph flashed in her eyes before she feigned innocence. "Caterina, I have no idea what you're talking about." Just then, Rocco's voice boomed through the open mind-link, echoing in the minds of everyone present. "Caterina, as the Luna of the pack, you shouldn’t cause a scene like this. Scarlett is just a friend. " In that moment, my heart died completely. He was my Alpha, my husband—the man I had spent years helping rise to power. I severed my mind-link with Rocco. The pain of the forced disconnection was so intense I could barely stand, but I straightened my spine and sent my reply. "I'll be home in two weeks." Go home and marry the most powerful Alpha in North America. They say he is cold and ruthless, unmoved by any she-wolf. Perfect. I don't need love. I just need an Alpha strong enough to help me secure the Silver Moon Pack. And as for Rocco? The Moon Goddess gave us a destiny, and he shattered it with his own hands. Now, I will seize my own.

I woke up inside a novel, and not even as an important character. I became a pretty background extra in a smut novel. My brother, however, was the only normal person in the entire story. His character setting was the one man the soft, delicate heroine could never win over. He was the cold, unattainable Prince Charming she could never conquer. When the heroine cried and confessed her love, he was studying. When she offered him her whole heart and body, he was busy starting a company. When she spiraled into scandals and nightlife, he was already a billionaire, calm and untouchable. I thought he would live a quiet, ascetic life forever. Until one night, I walked in on him at midnight… holding a piece of clothing I recognized all too well, murmuring a name over and over, a name so familiar that my scalp tingled.

It was my first time going to my boyfriend’s home for the New Year. In the middle of dinner, his childhood friend suddenly slammed her spoon on the table. “Cole, how could you bring a bar girl to our New Year’s Eve dinner?” The room fell silent. Everyone thought she simply had too much to drink. But she spoke with complete confidence. “One of my friends works on the vice squad. He arrested her himself. There’s no way he got the wrong person.” She threw a police penalty notice onto the table. My name was clearly printed on it. I was stunned. Last month, the city’s vice squad had arrested dozens of people. I was the one who approved and signed those cases. I had just taken office as bureau chief.

Leon Santoro's ex-wife and their daughter pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby. Leon came to see me in the hospital. He sat beside the bed, his expression as composed as always, and said, "She's a child. She didn't know what she was doing. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I apologize for Rosalie." "That's it?" I asked. "Just an apology?" He turned to look at me. "What else do you want? Money? Stock?" "I can't exactly make Rosalie pay with her life for what happened to your child." Your child. Not our child. So he truly never cared about the baby I was carrying. He'd made a promise to his ex-wife Giselle: Rosalie would be his only child. When I told him I was pregnant, he'd barely reacted. Just a shrug and a flat "I know," like I'd told him the weather. Thinking about it now, I looked at him and asked quietly, "You're relieved, aren't you? Now that the baby's gone."

Before my birthday party, Grandpa and I talked about my engagement in his study. He asked me which one from the Zachary family I intended to marry. Without hesitation, I chose Matthew Zachary—a decision that shocked Grandpa. After all, everyone in the circle knew that I was deeply in love with Jeffrey Zachary and would not marry anyone else. In a past life, I married Jeffrey Zachary, but later found out he had a relationship with Rosalie Larson. He begged for forgiveness, saying it was an accident. He tearfully knelt and begged for my forgiveness. "I beg you. It was really just an accident." Despite me forgiving him, Grandpa still found out and ordered someone to send Rosalie away. Jeffrey wrongly thought I was behind it and hated me for it. Over time, the elders in my family passed away one after another; rivals got ahead in business, and the company’s secrets were stolen. Tragically, I was killed when I found out I was pregnant. In my new life, I gave my blessing to Jeffrey and Rosalie. Unexpectedly, Jeffrey crashed my engagement party and proposed to me.

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

I've been dating the country's most eligible bachelor for two years. My base salary is $2 million, with bonuses based on performance. Holding hands costs $10,000, putting an arm around his waist is $20,000, and a kiss on the lips is a bit pricier at $50,000. As for certain bedroom activities, well, those come with a whole different price tag. Brad is fair-skinned and handsome, appearing only once a month – he's practically a walking Tiffany's diamond. Life is so sweet, it's easy to get complacent if you're not careful. One night, a DM popped up on Instagram from a stranger. "If you trust me, check your boyfriend's phone." "?" "I'm his girlfriend." "Am I the third party or are you the third party?" "You're third, I'm fourth." "Let's meet and talk details."