Devoted Restoration Novels & Stories

My tycoon husband was a charmer. But I never worried about it. Not when I still remembered throwing myself in front of a car to save him, losing both my legs in the process. Sebastian Walker had promised he would love me for the rest of his life, even if I could never give him a child of my own. When I was rushed into the hospital after the accident, the doctor said my spine couldn't handle the weight of a pregnancy. If I ever got pregnant, my back would break. So Sebastian made the call himself. He cut back on how often we were intimate, and he even set aside his pride as a man to get a vasectomy. Everyone said I was the one thing that mattered most in Sebastian's life. I believed it t

"That's why I need you to tell him first. Before I make the formal proposal. Tell him an architect's commission is what an architect receives for their work. And the work is extraordinary. And it has his name on it and the only question is whether he wants to see it built." Rosa looked at her for a long moment. "He'll say yes," she said. "I know," Elena said. She looked at the dedication. Built for Elena Ashford, who restored it. She thought about what it meant to restore something. Not to rebuild from the beginning. Not to replicate. To find the place where it had failed and make it hold again. She thought about Marcus's definition of his own work. I restore things. Old things. Broken thing

I start playing with one of the silver rings he has on his finger making me the calmest I've been whilst sitting here. "The scars Ilaria. They don't matter. Your strong for carrying on and not giving up after what you've been through." He carries on, pushing my head back into his neck as I continue to sob, his arms going around my waist, as I move my hands up to contine playing with his ring. It was black with what looked like a rose ingraved in the side. I like it. "And Ilaria?" He asks making me sniffle and nod against his neck, as the tears contine to run down my cheks.

Behind me, Stella cried out in despair: "Matteo, didn't you love me for ten years? Do you have to be this cruel?" I didn't break stride, and her voice cracked. "I'm sorry, Matteo! I'm so sorry!" My fingers curled at her apology, but I didn't look back. Outside, the sunlight hit me, warm and golden. A decade was wasted on misplaced devotion, but I believed the future held happiness for me. After all, I'd found the girl who'd waited ten years for me.

I sat down, chewing my food in absolute fear and trembling throughout the meal. "Julian, dear," Brigitte continued smoothly, ignoring my glaring distress. "Georgia has been throwing a bit of a tantrum lately. Why don't you take her back with you for a few days? Talk some sense into her and rebuild your connection. We feel completely at ease knowing she's by your side." I watched in horror as those literal betrayal-fueled words fell from her lips. "We'll get along beautifully, Mrs. Harrington. Don't worry," Julian promised with a flawless smile.

Not the crude act of repainting over cracks, but the patient work of a restorer: filling fractures, smoothing rough edges, allowing the original form to breathe again. Everyone says their partner is the best. It’s one of those statements so worn down by repetition that it borders on parody—sweet, shallow, and impossible to argue against without sounding bitter. And yet, for me, it is simply the truth. I did not just get lucky. I hit the jackpot.

My voice broke, and I couldn’t continue. Aunt Emilia held me, her presence a small comfort in the storm of emotions threatening to consume me. “He’s strong,” she said, though her voice wavered. “He’ll fight. He always does.” When the doctor finally emerged, his expression was grim. My heart dropped. “Mr. Colman’s condition is critical,” he said, his tone measured but serious. “We’ve stabilized him for now, but his heart is weak. He’ll need constant care and... ”

instantly, he remembered a scene from his past. 'Take this, keep it to yourself. Take it as your lucky charm' the voice rang in his head as he closed his eyes. He soon opened it when he heard voices from his earpords. "Boss, we found his location!" "You all should get yourself present!" He replied. "Okay boss!" Instantly, he dropped the chain back inside the drawer before leaving, his steps quickening. ★★★★★ MORETTI'S RESIDENCE* Tatiana ran into the building as she rested against the wall holding her chest while trying to catch her breath.

He must still like me. some reason, I felt like I need a big change in my life so I got decorators in to redo my living room for me, I mean I am of work for two weeks, might as well have a change but the noise was getting to me, I couldn't work so I booked a room at a hotel to get some quite time to work.

They said it would help. The court had ordered it after the divorce hearings. She’s entitled to weekly sessions and mandatory progress reports. They called it emotional rehabilitation, but she called it punishment. Her therapist, Dr. Brant, kept using phrases like "closure" and "self-accountability." Genevieve would nod, smile, and pretend she cared. But every word slid right off her, because she didn’t want to close anything. She didn’t want to heal. She wanted Nicholas back at all costs. He was the only man who had ever seen her, or rather, the only one she’d ever convinced herself did. This was the second time he had dragged him through the mud but she still wasn’t satisfied