Characters In Left For Dead 2 Novels & Stories

After a painful breakup under the rain-soaked night, Nova vows to reclaim her life. Transformed and fearless, she returns to school only to find herself tangled between her ruthless ex, Jace, and the mysterious, golden-eyed newcomer, Ryder—whose dark secrets could either protect her or destroy everything. But when threatening messages surface, and a tangled web of blackmail and betrayal pulls Nova deeper into danger, she must navigate a treacherous game of trust, heartbreak, and revenge. With the enigmatic Ryder by her side—his fierce protectiveness hiding painful truths—Nova fights to expose the real enemy lurking in the shadows. In a world where love and deception collide, will Nova survive the storm, or be consumed by it?

Three months after my liver cancer diagnosis, I found out the only contact Evelyn Pritchard had pinned was one of her male students. Suddenly, all those cute reaction gifs she had been using made sense. I didn't spiral. I gave Evelyn two choices. "Divorce me, or cut him off." Evelyn said nothing. She locked herself in the study for the entire night. When she came out the next morning, her eyes were red, and she looked at me like she already knew she had ruined something she couldn't fix. "He doesn't know anything. I'm the one who crossed the line. It won't happen again." We had been together for six years. I couldn't bring myself to end everything over what I kept telling myself was one mistake. Then, during my surgery, Evelyn answered a phone call. "My parents are trying to force me into a marriage. Please, you have to come help me!" Her hand slipped out of mine. And then, she ran for the door. Pain tore through my abdomen, but I gritted my teeth and shouted, "Evelyn, if you walk out of this operating room today, we're getting divorced when you come back!" She stopped for half a second, but still left anyway. The heart monitor began to shriek. Evelyn never looked back. That was when I finally understood. This three-year marriage should have ended a long time ago.

On one mid-autumn day, my national classified mission finally came to an end. I dug out the phone I hadn't touched for four years, planning to call my wife, Nora Christie, and tell her that I'd be coming home. But the moment my phone screen lit up, I saw a public court notice declaring me… dead. I froze. Then, I looked closer. The person who had filed the petition to have me legally declared dead was Nora. Frowning with confusion, I dialed her number. With a soft chuckle, she brushed it off, saying that it must have been a clerical error by some court intern. Then, she asked when I would be coming home. Just when I was about to answer, I heard a soft, restrained moan from Nora. "Ah, don't touch me there…" Realizing something wasn't right, I told her that I would be back in a few more years before hanging up. Then, I grabbed the medal I had earned from four years of service to my country, and took the next train home. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I arrived. Right outside my front door, Nora was holding a wedding ceremony. The groom was Henry Crowley, the poor student I had sponsored!

Three years ago, my husband’s brother took a bullet for him. So Gwen brought his brother's widow, Eliza, into our home. I was the Donna in name only. I had to step aside for Eliza in everything. Once, Eliza faked slitting her wrists. She said I drove her to it. Gwen grabbed my throat. Murder flashed in his eyes. "Get out. The Falcone family has no place for a venomous bitch like you." He gave her the family's art foundation to "make it up to her." It was supposed to be mine. This time, I said nothing. He was signing a stack of business contracts. I just slipped the divorce papers in with them. A few days later, he noticed I wasn't home. He searched all over Chicago. He couldn't find me. That's when he saw the divorce decree. He finally understood. I was gone. For good. That day, the untouchable king of the Chicago Outfit… shattered.

Juliana da Vinci, went all out in rage to avenge the death of her family after her return from Malaysia in the year 2023. In the course of seeking vengeance, she learns she is the daughter of a prime angelic king and a werewolf's luna. An unraveled origin turned out to be a twist of faith which brought her into a contract relationship with an alpha werewolve. When the bond between them grew stronger, she had a one-night stand with him and became pregnant with his child. As she grew stronger, she became a threat to the vampires and an enemy to a league of angels sent to bring her home, because she now has the power of an angel and a werewolf combined. When the vampires who murdered her parents found out about her pregnancy, they came up with a plan to kill Juliana. Their plan causes them to make a deal with the angels, to help them capture the alpha, which will in turn devastate Juliana. When the alpha was captured, Juliana turned into their worst nightmare, assassinating them one after the other with accumulated wrath of vengeance for murdering her family and for taking into captivity her only lover. Her rage brought her enemies to her knees, putting to flight the angels, who soon left the vampires to face what they had unleashed alone. She again freed her mate and together they both went out with the pack to raid the camp of the vampires and to bring victory and peace to their domain: a battle that turned into a blood bath. Questions are, who is going to survive when all hell lets loose. Will there ever be room for a happy ending?

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

After giving birth, I lost my beauty when I started adding weight in all the wrong places. Stretch marks. A soft stomach. Tired eyes. The same body that carried our child became the body my husband couldn’t stand to look at. “I can’t take you anywhere like this.” That was what Marcus Hawthorne my powerful, untouchable CEO husband said the night he stopped bringing me to events. The whispers followed after that. She let herself go. He deserves better. How embarrassing for a man like him. I heard them all. And Marcus? He never defended me. Instead, he grew colder, crueler and distant everyday. The same man I sacrificed my everything for made me feel like I was no longer worth loving. And when tragedy struck and I lost the only thing keeping me togheter —our child. I realized the bitter truth not only was I meant to grieve a failed marriage alone but a dead child too because Marcus didn't hesitate to replace us with his new family. And that was my breaking point. Determined to start all over I fled the country for my sanity. Worked on the body that once made me hate my reflection. Rebuilt the career I had abandoned for love. Became the successful woman I was always meant to be. Now, seven years later, I’m back. And guess who can’t take his eyes off me? Marcus. Only, he isn't the man I left behind. Haunted by a serious problem that only I can help him with he’s willing to do anything to get me back. But here’s the problem. The woman who would have forgiven him no longer exists. And the woman standing here now? Isn’t sure she wants anything to do with him ever again.

Before my parents died, they entrusted me to the most powerful vampire clan — the Vanderlooms. I married Jason, the heir, and spent ten years by his side — only to discover he'd gotten his vampire subordinate pregnant. He said I was just a human. That conceiving a vampire's child was nearly impossible for someone like me. That even if my parents died saving his life, it didn't mean I could hold on to the title of lady of the house forever. Vicky said she needed human blood for her pregnancy and demanded I serve as her blood thrall. Jason just watched with casual indifference. He didn't stop her. So I packed my bags and calmly handed him the divorce papers. He sneered. "That trick doesn't work anymore. You want to leave? Go ahead." "Give it a week. You'll come crawling back." But what he didn't know was that I'd already accepted another man's proposal. This time, I was done loving him for good.

My husband, Don Axel Thorne, died protecting me in a mob war. I was his widow for six years, until I turned thirty. The old guard of the Family told me it was time to move on. My friends told me to let him go. Even in my dreams, his bloody hands would cup my face, begging me to live again. So I agreed to an arranged marriage. But first, I went to his grave for one last goodbye. I’d just left the cemetery when a post appeared in my feed. [Thanks, hubby, for the six-year anniversary gift! A fifty-million-dollar penthouse in Miami!] My blood ran cold. My hands shook. The phone nearly slipped from my grip. In the photo, the man I buried six years ago was slipping a massive diamond onto another woman's finger. The background was a lavish penthouse. His style. I put my people on it. We had the location in minutes. Drove straight there. I knocked, the door opened, and I froze. The woman standing there was Seraphina. His adoptive sister. The one the Family exiled six years ago for her obsession with him.