Novel & Cerita Dijonai Carrington And Nalyssa Smith

Nothing can be compared to the feeling of being hated and despised by the very person you love. Ayla would do anything to make CEO Jaxon love her and change his opinion about her but nothing seemed to change him. Forced to perform her wifely duties even though he didn't love her, Ayla was getting fed up of lying to herself that she could change him and that he would love her if she kept trying. “ I can't do this anymore,” she cried silently as she rubbed the bump on her stomach. She knew she had reached her limits when she became pregnant with his children, that only meant their divorce was around the corner. Choosing not to be dumped and separated from her children, she flees to give them a better life while doing the thing she loves most. She was no longer going to sacrifice her life to please anyone else, only then does the stern CEO realize the value of what he had lost. Now, he has to win her back.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.

Elena Rossi married Victor Moretti, the most feared mafia Don in the underground world. For three years, he treated her like a queen. Everyone said the ruthless Don was madly in love with his wife. Elena believed them. Until the night everything fell apart. At a family banquet, Elena was drugged. When she begged Victor to stay with her, he simply told his guards to take her to the hospital—then left to meet her sister. In that moment, the love Elena had once been so proud of shattered. She soon learned the cruel truth: Victor had married her only because he believed she was the woman who once saved his life. And now that the “real” savior had appeared—her sister—Elena had become nothing more than a mistake. So Elena made her choice. She quietly arranged everything, had Victor unknowingly sign the divorce papers, and disappeared from his world—carrying his unborn child. Only after she was gone did Victor realize. The woman he thought he married out of gratitude had long become the one he could not live without. The woman who had saved his life years ago had been Elena all along—only she had been injured back then and lost that part of her memory. By the time the truth came to light, Elena was already gone. The cold-blooded mafia Don who once controlled the entire underworld finally lost control.

When Elizabeth takes a new job as a nanny, she assumes she's going to work for a wealthy couple who hired her. But instead of pulling up to their million-dollar estate, she finds herself on the front porch of a humble farmhouse, looking into the eyes of dark and brooding single dad, Jonathan. It's bad enough that Jon doesn't have a fortune to charm out of him, but he's also a police officer. After marrying his college girlfriend only to have her leave months after their baby was born, Jon has sworn off girls for life. All that matters now is taking care of his child. If anyone can break down the tough exterior of the former soldier, it's her. But just when she's close to getting exactly what she wants, she's faced with a whole new challenge. That is to pretend she does not love him.

When you are growing up adults usually tell you that you can be whatever you want to be, right?! I was told I would be a starving artist if I became what I wanted to be. I let their words become me. All their words. I let them dictate the person I became. I kept the real me to myself after so many years of their hatred for that person. I let little bits of my soul break away and die to keep their torment to a minimum. I learned to not rock the boat, just keep my head down and do as I was told. I was the party crasher on their life that never left. Until I shocked them when I did. Out on my own, I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was. I settled for the first “nice guy” to come along. That quickly fizzled out after a shotgun wedding. After a year alone I met Prince Charming #2 at a backyard BBQ. I didn’t know my jerk radar was still broken. Then out of nowhere, the one I had always thought was a jerk turned out to surprisingly be my Prince Charming. Being the man, I need in my life. He became everything I needed, and everything I didn’t know I wanted. Allowing me to grow and blossom as a person which inspires him to do the same. And we live happily ever after.

Madison Waters and Blake Garette had a very simple relationship. Both emotionally unavailable enters an agreement to satisfy one of the basic human needs - intercourse. Everything was fine between them, until one day when unexpected news turns their casual relationship into something more than they could handle.

Ben has just bought his first house. It's a bit of a fixer-upper. When strange things start happening, he assumes it's the quirkiness of an old house. Because ghosts don't exist, right?

On the day that was supposed to be my wedding—the bride wasn’t me. The ceremony I’d waited for five years for turned into a joke when Valentina, my sister, walked down the marble aisle in a white wedding dress. Her arm was linked with Luca’s — the man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the altar. “I’m sorry, Bianca,” she said softly. “But you are no longer the bride today.” Then she touched her stomach, eyes gleaming with triumph. “I’m pregnant with Don Romano’s child.” Her words detonated inside my skull, and the whole world went silent. As if afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she lifted something glossy up towards the light. A black-and-white ultrasound image. It read clearly: Gestational age — 12 weeks. My eyes burned, tears stinging as I turned to Luca, desperately searching for anything—a denial, an explanation, regret. Instead, he only sighed, weary and resigned. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” he said helplessly. “Valentina doesn’t have much time left. This wedding… it was her last wish.” “I’ll make it up to you,” he added. “We can have another wedding later.” My father, Moretti, stood behind him, wearing the same stern expression he’d worn my entire life. I have never seen him smile at me, not even once. “Bianca,” he said sharply, “Your sister is dying. Let her have this.” My brother nodded without saying a single word, as if that was enough to be a solid answer. All my life, they had chosen her—her tears, her whims, her needs—over mine. Today was no different. Something inside me quietly cracked. Fine. If no one in this family cares about me, I’ll leave.

The day I won the eight-million-dollar East Harbor renovation bid, I handed the lead role to Grace Whitman, Ethan Hale’s childhood sweetheart. Ethan thought I had finally learned to be sensible. He happily told me he was taking me to the Maldives for our wedding anniversary. Grace found out that night. She pretended the pressure from work was too much and cried uncontrollably. Ethan panicked so badly that he canceled a board meeting, stayed with her for three days, then called our anniversary trip an emergency client visit and gave Grace the second ticket. When he called me, his tone was still calm, almost entitled. “Sofia, we can talk about emotional stuff later. The company comes first right now. Grace has never handled a project this big on her own. I need to be there with her.” “You’re my wife. You should understand.” I sat alone in our empty apartment and looked at the photo Grace had just posted. In the private airport lounge, Ethan had draped his jacket over her shoulders. Their knees almost touched. Her caption read, [Some people never have to say love. They just show up first, every time.] I didn’t question him. I didn’t cry. I only replied, [Okay.] Ethan probably thought I had finally learned my place. Satisfied, he promised that when he came back, he would give me an even better anniversary. What he didn’t know was that I had already submitted my resignation to Hale Creative. And he didn’t know that the document he had signed three days ago wasn’t a project authorization form. It was our divorce agreement. By the time he realized what he had lost, I was no longer Mrs. Hale. I was Sofia Bellandi again. And Bellandi women do not beg for seats at tables they built.

I stopped fighting. The moment I came back, I stepped out of the family spotlight on purpose— no arguments, no expectations, no awkward “let’s bond” moments. And somehow… that’s when my parents lost their minds. They made my little sister the heir? I congratulated them and filed my transfer to the Vegas branch the same afternoon. They threw her a massive coming-of-age gala? I smiled, booked a flight, and left before the invitations were printed. They bought her a limited-edition luxury car? I claimed my “old wrist injury” made driving impossible and insisted she take it. I thought they’d be relieved. I thought they’d finally get their perfect family without me messing up the picture. But instead—my cold, distant parents started calling nonstop. Showing up at my door. Pleading with me to come home. Asking what they did wrong. Why now? Why only when I stopped trying? Because in my last life, I spent decades clawing for their love— only to die bitter, resented, and humiliated. Even my grown son told me I was embarrassing. This time, I came back different. I refused to fight for a place in their world again. I refused to compete with my sister. I refused to beg. But the moment I stepped away… the entire family empire began to crack. And now they’re terrified. Not because I left— but because they finally realized what they lost.