Book Never Too Far Novels & Stories

Everyone knew Sienna Wolfe had many boyfriends. But I was the only one she publicly recognized as her official boyfriend, all because I was foolish enough to give her everything. Recently, Sienna had become obsessed with rock climbing. To buy her the best gear on the market, I took a part-time job at a high-paying chemical plant. I never expected that job to give me leukemia. When I got the test results, I stood outside the hospital, my hands trembling as I held the test results. I called Sienna in complete despair, telling her I was sick. Yet, all I got was her irritated voice. "Then go to the hospital. What do you want me to do? I'm not a doctor." Just before the call ended, a man's voice came through clearly from her side. "Babe, come try the new gear. I designed this especially for you. It'll fit your body perfectly."

Brian Stanton was the definition of a textbook husband in everyone's eyes. He left work on time every single day, rain or shine, and whenever he traveled for business, his video calls arrived like clockwork to report his whereabouts. If a dinner involved even a single female colleague, he would call me first to ask for my explicit permission. Even the honey-ginger tea he prepared for me during my periods had never skipped a single month in half a decade. Yet, the better he treated me, the more it felt like I was serving a life sentence. Five years ago, his assistant had shown up at our wedding, her heavily pregnant belly protruding as she begged me to let them be together. Brian had violently dragged her away. When he finally returned, he was covered in blood, collapsing before me and trembling. "Honey, I was wrong. I've taken care of her. She won't ever show up again." He hadn't slipped up once since then. In fact, he had been so flawless and so completely beyond reproach that I thought it was finally time to forgive him. I went to his company, hoping to ask him out for lunch. But a child's voice drifted out from inside his office. "Dad, it's Mom's birthday today. Let's go home and celebrate with her." "Okay." In the next instant, my phone screen lit up with an incoming message. [Honey, I'm working late tonight. Will be home later.] Peering through the narrow crack in the door, I looked at the father and son, who looked as if they had been cast from the same mold. All at once, I flashed back to the moment when his assistant begged me, her belly so massive she was on the absolute verge of giving birth. The pregnancy test result I had been clutching so tightly in my hand slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor.

I screamed the words I never thought I’d say. “Yes, Daddy…fuck me harder!” His hand cracked across my ass, the sting making my pussy clench around every inch of him. “That’s right, little girl. Say it louder…tell Daddy who this pussy belongs to.” “Yours, Daddy! Only yours!” I cried, moaning his name while my mother slept upstairs, completely ruined and loving every filthy second of it. —----------- I broke his rules. Now he owns my nights. I never wanted to move back home. But when my toxic ex left me broke and broken, my only choice was to crawl back to my mother's luxury mansion… and straight into the arms of her hot new husband. Anthonio Grey. He is forty-eight, filthy rich, and built like a sin I can't stop committing. He was strictly off-limits… until the night he caught me sneaking in, past curfew. He found out everything. Every shameful little thing I thought I'd buried deep enough. He didn't expose me. He used it. Now I belong to him in ways I can't explain to anyone and wouldn't dare try. Because the way he says my name when I've broken a rule? The way his hands feel when he's deciding whether to punish me or protect me? The way he looks at me when my mother's back is turned? Nothing in my life has ever felt more dangerous. Or more addictive. Now I'm his "little girl" behind closed doors. My past is catching up. My psychotic ex, Jax, is at the gates. He has proof. And he wants me back at any cost. I'm trapped between a possessive billionaire… and a dangerous ex who knows every one of my dirty secrets. WARNING!!! THIS BOOK CONTAINS RAW EXPLICIT SCENES. FOR MATURE READERS ONLY.

In the eight years since my wife handed our daughter over to her widowed brother-in-law, I went to court eight times. This time, the judge asked me the same question she always did: was I here to sue for custody again? I corrected her. "I'm here to withdraw the suit. I'm giving up custody. I'm agreeing to the divorce." Ten years married to my wife, Vivian Simpson, and eight of those years spent in courtrooms. I'd become the whole city of Northbridge's favorite joke. Now, I'd finally endured enough to let go. From now on, the most spineless man in Northbridge would never have to show his face in front of them again.

My husband, Henry Luther, never loved me.He's always loved my younger sister instead.I chose to step aside and fulfill their love.But no one believed my sincere sacrifice..."Are you trying to act pitiful again?" Henry stared at me with a hostile look in his eyes.

"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly. Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly. Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now. They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world? After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

My sister ate the half plate of mango I had left on the table and broke out in hives from her allergy. My brother stormed over, pried my mouth open, and poured the mango juice straight down my throat. "You love mangoes so much, don't you? Today you'll get your fill." The juice flooded my lungs. I choked, fighting for air as my throat swelled in agony, begging him to save me. Instead, he turned and locked me in the basement. "Betty suffered because of you, so don't expect any comfort. Stay down here and reflect on what you've done. Growing up without any real guidance. No wonder you're so vicious." Two days later, my mom remembered me. "Ralph, that's enough. Let Catherine out. If she stays there much longer, she might start resenting Betty." My dad chimed in casually, "What's the big deal? Just buy her something nice to make up for it." My spirit clung to his back, floating along with them toward the basement. I'd like to see how they were going to compensate a dead girl.

Hanya is mad with the Alegre especially with Keze, because of what they did to her. Keze is her rival in everything, because he's always there where ever she was. Even with her previous boyfriends were convinced by Keze to broke up with her. She left their place angry with Keze and the Alegre's. Five years later they met again, and that's when she found out that Keze had only done those things to get closer to her and not to go to anyone else. Will she believe that the young man has loved her for a long time or she will still take revenge on him and not be fooled by him anymore. ? ..

My husband's true love developed acute kidney failure, and I was the only matching donor. To save her life, he forced me to terminate my pregnancy at six months. Despite his gentle tone, he said the most heart-wrenching words, "Can't you be a little kinder? You're just losing a child, but she's losing her life." I resisted with every fiber of my being, but he threatened his own life to force my hand. On the operating table, both my child and I died. Meanwhile, his true love's transplant was a success, and she lived. Although the outcome was exactly what he wanted, he spiraled into madness upon hearing news of my death.

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.