Countdown To Heartbreak Novels & Stories

For love, I followed Harrison, the underboss of the Moretti family, from halfway across the world. But for five whole years, my permanent residency application had gone nowhere. Several key steps required Harrison's personal involvement, but he always claimed he was too swamped with family business to find the time. Yet Cathy, my so-called stepsister, who was living on our estate, got her residency in just two short weeks. I only found out through the servants' gossip that Harrison had personally stepped in, pressuring a top immigration lawyer to rush it through. With my hopes completely shattered, I told him I wanted to go home. Harrison, a man who was always so proud, panicked. He pulled me into a fierce embrace, kissing my hair. "Aurora, you're my wife. Getting your permanent residency is just a matter of time." "But Cathy is different. She has no family to protect her. Without legal status, she could be deported at any moment." "Just do it for me. Stay. Okay?" Once again, I gave in to his tender words. Until today. I went to the immigration office alone to check on my file. The clerk stared at the screen, her face a mask of confusion. "Ma'am, the system clearly states that Mr. Harrison Moretti's legal spouse is... a Ms. Cathy." "Did you perhaps fill out your form incorrectly?" My world froze. So, the five years of waiting had all been a lie. I wasn't just denied permanent residency; my very marriage was a fraud. I didn't go back to the estate. I went straight to the airport and flew home. Before I boarded, the last message from him read: "Stop throwing a tantrum. Come home." But Harrison, we didn't have a home anymore.

After I fainted from the pain, I learned the truth about my mate Kaelen’s position as Alpha of the Grayswood pack. He had inherited it from his older brother, who had died in battle. Not only did Kaelen take his brother's power, but he also inherited his brother's widow, the former Luna, Lydia. I wanted to reject him and break free from our mate bond, but Kaelen wouldn’t let me. He begged me with tears in his eyes and promised, "I have to bear a pup with Lydia to truly inherit the pack. Violetta, I swear that you're the only one I love. Once Lydia is with pup, you and I can finally be together openly!" That year, Kaelen spent 54 nights in Lydia’s bed. At first, it was once a month, but soon it became nearly every two days. Finally, after the 54th night, the news came that Lydia was carrying his pup. And that was when I finally gave up hope. But when I faked my death and escaped with our pup, Kaelen went mad. He didn't care about the Alpha title he had just obtained. He searched the world over for us, desperate to find me and our pup.

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty... I finally stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs, ready to see what was going on. Just then, I heard Luca’s friends whispering in a thick Sicilian dialect. "This American guy... her head is greener than a lemon tree in Palermo and she doesn’t even know it." "I bet Luca and Fiona are having the time of their lives in there right now." "Poor Boston girl. Look at her, sitting there like a loyal little dog. Hilarious." I froze. My blood turned to ice, and the air felt too thin to breathe. Suddenly, the storage room door creaked open. Luca walked out, wiping sweat from his brow, followed closely by Fiona, who was busy smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "Whoa, how was it? Seven minutes in heaven live up to the hype?" someone teased. Luca smirked, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Better. I didn't want to leave."

The Blood Moon Feast was over. I was delivering the synthetic blood supplement I'd developed for the vampire lord, Evander, when he suddenly threw me to the ground. "Give it to me... I want you..." His crimson eyes burned with desperate hunger. My face flushed. I thought he finally understood the love I held for him. So I let him sink his fangs into my neck. I let him form a blood bond with me—a human. I wanted eternity with him. But when I woke up, Evander's eyes were filled with shock and regret. It wasn't love. Just an uncontrollable frenzy from his once-a-century bloodlust curse. And now it was too late. A human bonded to an ancient vampire suffers excruciating, soul-tearing pain. To forcibly break the bond? A death sentence. Evander chose to honor it. He owed me—I'd saved his life once in the human world. But everything changed when Odette died. His true love, waiting centuries to bond with him. When she learned of our union, she shattered—left the City of Eternal Night alone and walked into an ambush by rogue hunters. They burned her to ash. When his family brought back the only thing left—a moonstone pendant—Evander's hands closed around my throat. "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? You trapped me in this bond. Then you conspired with hunters to kill Odette. Go to hell and apologize to her yourself!" He ripped the bond from me, tearing away the very blood that kept me alive. A day and a night of agony as my organs ruptured. Then I died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night his curse erupted.

"Mrs. Blackwood, everything has been arranged for the identity-erasure operation you commissioned. This is the final agreement. Please sign here." I lowered my eyes to the document that had been placed in front of me. Client: Elena Blackwood Execution Plan: Explosion at a harbor warehouse. Vehicle destroyed by fire. Death confirmed through DNA identification. Execution Date: One week from today. One week later would be the fifth anniversary of my marriage to Damian Blackwood. It would also be the day I disappeared from the Blackwood family forever. Our story began on that date. And it would end on that date as well.

Before I turned eighteen, I was the adored principessa of the Moretti family. That all changed on my eighteenth birthday, when my father brought home an orphan girl named Carina. "She needs a home," my father said. "You will look after her, like a sister." From that moment on, nothing was the same. My brother, who once doted on me, became cold and distant. And my fiancé... his love for me seemed to halve overnight. The family praised Carina for being gentle and obedient, calling her a far better daughter than me, their own flesh and blood. After being cast aside for Carina one too many times, I finally broke and grabbed my father's sleeve. "Does blood mean nothing at all?" My father's fury ignited. He sheltered a tear-stricken Carina behind him, and in front of every member of the family, he struck me across the face. "You selfish waste. I wish I'd never had you." "You bring shame to this family," my brother Marco's voice was as cold as a blade. "Get out." And my fiancé, Vincent, looked at me with disappointment,"If only it had been Carina I was engaged to from the start." They thought I would grovel at their feet, like I always did. But I said nothing, just walked to the family safe, removed the official documents, and drew a single line through my name. I took the engagement ring from my finger and placed it on the table. I gave Carina everything they felt I didn't deserve. After all, I only had a few days left to live. But they had no idea then that amid the ruins of the Moretti family, they would one day kneel in the rain and plead for my return.

Seven times, I bonded with the same Alpha. And seven times, he tore our bond apart for his childhood flame. The first time, he swore it under the moon. “Astrid, my Luna. From this day forward, my heart and my wolf are yours alone.” But the moment his precious Liana returned, his promises turned to ash. “Can’t you just be patient? You’re making her uncomfortable, making it look like she’s seducing a mated male.” The first time he rejected me, the searing pain of the bond breaking nearly killed my wolf. They sent me to the pack healers, but he never came. Not once. The third time, I swallowed my pride as an Alpha’s daughter. I joined his pack as a nobody, just to be near his scent. By the sixth time, I knew the drill. I packed my bags and walked out of our penthouse without a word. My breakdowns. My compromises. My surrender. All I got for my pain were his clockwork apologies and the same betrayal. Over and over again. Until now. The moment I heard Liana was coming back, I handed him the papers to sever our bond myself. He just set a date for our next bonding ceremony, as if nothing had happened. He has no idea. This time, I’m not just breaking the bond. I’m shattering the heart that beat for him seven times, only to be crushed by his own hands, seven times.

I was with Marco, the New York Mafia heir, for seven years. He never told his family about me. But when I walked in on a wedding rehearsal and saw the groom embracing the bride-to-be. It was Marco! "Her fiancé's held up in Italy. I'm just a stand-in," he told me, but his eyes never left her. "You're the best wedding planner in New York. This wedding has to be flawless." But I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before. A possessiveness that bordered on resentment. Isabella, the bride, hated every idea I had for her. In the end, Marco told me to give her the wedding I'd spent five years designing for myself. "Our wedding can wait. I'll give you something bigger, I promise. It's just a plan, Sophia. It's what you do. Giving it to a client should be easy, right?" He didn't know. It wasn't just a plan. It was my dying wish. In the end, I gave him what he wanted, quietly preparing to die. Later, he went mad, kidnapping the world’s best doctors—risking a global manhunt—all to save me.

During the holidays, I've worked my ass off just to whip up a feast filled with my wife, Willow Steele's favorite dishes. But soon, my mother-in-law pulls out a paternity test report and announces with a smile that the birth father of my daughter, Naomi Johnson, is actually Willow's childhood sweetheart, Luther Lloyd. Everyone bursts into laughter before saying teasingly that "no wonder Naomi looks so much like Luther". Willow's father even pats Luther on the shoulder while looking at him as though the latter were a part of the family. What stings my heart the most is that Willow is laughing so hard that she can barely stand up straight. So, that leaves her clinging to Luther while she taps Naomi on the forehead with a finger. "Go on, call Mr. Lloyd 'daddy.' He's your real dad, after all." Naomi, who has always kept me at an arm's length, rushes into Luther's arms without hesitation and starts calling him "daddy" sweetly. I fall silent for a moment as I watch everything unfold. Then, I draw to my feet and look at Willow. "Let's get a divorce." But Willow just chuckles icily in return. "Must you go that far? My mom was just joking around." When I'm about to leave, Willow turns to tell the others, "He's just being ridiculous. Once I give him the cold shoulder for a few days, he'll still beg me to return to his side pathetically." But what Willow doesn't know is that I've chosen to endure everything she's hurled at me out of love in the past. Now, I want nothing more than to leave her permanently.

It has been 99 times that Henry and I have filed the application for divorce and then withdrawn it. Each time before finalizing the divorce, Henry always waits for me to humbly beg him to stay married. I turned down the offer to be the chief composer at a famous studio in Vienna because Henry didn't want a long-distance relationship. I deleted all my male friends because Henry didn't want me to be too friendly to them. I stopped wearing red lipstick, composing, and traveling alone, because he said married women should stay at home instead of being impulsive. Only after I finally manage to appease him will he allow me to withdraw the divorce application. After my 100th divorce application, as I was leaving, the deputy clerk asked me curiously: "So, when are you going to withdraw your application this time?" I looked at Henry's cold back in front of me, forced to smile with tears, and told myself in my heart— This time, there will be no withdrawal of the application. After the 30-day cooling-off period, we'll be officially divorced. But why did his love only find its voice when I had already walked away?