Divorce Has Never Felt So Good の小説・ストーリー

"I, Nikolai Kensington, will make you so rich, you'll walk on money. I'll place you above your enemies and make them worship at your feet. You'll no longer be known as the timid Adira, but you'll become known as one of the most powerful women in the country." Those were the words that changed Adira's life forever. Adira Ravenswood was heartbroken when Lancelot divorced her to be with his second lover. They had been friends from childhood, so she had loved him so dearly and didn't know how to move on without him. While Lancelot was from a very rich home, Adira was very poor, and she felt that was part of the reasons he had quit the marriage. Everyone ridiculed her, Lancelot's mother froze her accounts so she couldn't have access to the money she had gotten from him. Adira's own family mocked and looked down on her. They said she could never amount to anything. Adira was broken and dejected and was at the verge of taking her life when the most powerful, but cold-hearted man in the country showed up and offered her a juicy proposal - one that would make her trample on every single person that's ever hurt her. But it came with a condition - a condition that was very easy, yet so difficult.

When my cousin died, my aunt forced me to marry her husband in order to take care of the child she left behind. She said that it was a way to pay her back for raising me after the death of my mom. For eight years of being in the marriage, I was bullied by my cousin's son, accusing me killing his mom in order to take over her home. And my husband? He never defended me. To them, I was nothing more than a mere house help. And the day I had looked forward finally came, when I could walk away from the marriage. But fate had other plans—I died in pain that very day. Now, with a second chance at life, I made one thing clear: I was done with that miserable family, for good.

Four years ago, Aria Santoro traded a mafia throne for a quiet life at Harvard. She buried her name, her past, and the memory of the man who haunted her dreams. But you don't just "quit" the family. When her father falls ill, the world she fled comes crashing back in the form of Luca Moretti. Luca is her father’s most dangerous weapon. He’s cold, possessive, and tasked with bringing the runaway heiress home—by force if necessary. One night of long-awaited passion sparks an obsession neither can control. Luca promises Aria his loyalty and his life. But behind his protective gaze lies a secret that could destroy the Santoro empire. When the truth comes out, Aria is faced with a choice: Walk away from the man she loves, or lose herself to the world she tried so hard to escape.

I know I shouldn’t want him. Or them. There’s my best friend’s father, whose low, velvety voice makes my pulse stutter whenever he speaks. My stepbrother, whose accidental touches make my skin burn with unspoken tension. And my sister’s mate, whose cold, lingering gaze betrays a hunger I shouldn’t see. Every glance, every brush of skin, drags me deeper into temptation. Every heartbeat reminds me that wanting them is dangerous, forbidden… and maybe reckless. I’m caught between loyalty, morality, and desire, and every moment I give in only makes the fire stronger. Some lines aren’t meant to be crossed. Some fires are impossible to resist. And I’m learning the hard way… forbidden has never felt this good.

The longest confession of love is companionship. Each of us seeks happiness, do you want to be happy too? Come here so that I can heal you.

I, Xavier Locke, had married the same woman, Melanie Slater, seven times. But for the sake of her first love, Leonard Blueman, she divorced me seven times. The first time we got married, she told me, "I'll only love you for the rest of my life." But every time Leonard came back to the country, she sang a different tune. "Can't you be more sensible? How can you bear to stand by and let Lenny be called a homewrecker who snatches a married woman from her husband?" The first time we divorced, I cut my wrists to make her stay. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, but she never showed up even once to see me. The third time we divorced, I humbled myself and applied to be her assistant at her company. I did that just so I could see her a little more. By the sixth divorce, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of the home we shared. My hysteria, my repeated backing down, and my tolerant compromises brought me nothing—just Melanie repeatedly divorcing and remarrying me. Time and time again, she pulled the same trick. With history repeating itself, I decided enough was enough. After hearing that Leonard was coming back again, this time, I handed her the divorce papers myself. As always, she set a date for our next remarriage. But what she didn't know… was that I was leaving for good this time.

My firefighter husband had fallen from a great height during a mission and was rushed into the emergency room, covered in blood. As the only person capable of saving him, I stood just outside the operating room, calm and composed. Reaching for my makeup bag, I began carefully applying my makeup. Another doctor, panic-stricken, rushed toward me and shouted, "Dr. Warhol! The patient's kidney has ruptured! You're the only surgeon in all of Switzerland who can perform this life-saving procedure! If you don’t act now, he’s going to die!" I continued shaping my eyebrows with steady precision, not even glancing in his direction. "Quiet," I said coolly. "If you keep yelling, my brows might end up crooked."

One year ago, my husband Killian came back home accusing me of poisoning him, with his childhood sweetheart in his arms. It was terrifying. Because what started off allegedly, became my cold reality with that awful text. “Have you gone through with it, Tamara? Our flight is at noon,” This made Killian even more hostile, he treated me with so much contempt, he broke my heart into shreds in his quest for vengeance. Fed up, I asked for a divorce but to Killian it was one big joke. He has every means to keep me in this marriage and I know it. But screw it, and screw him! I had plans, work, make money and get myself out unscathed. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball… I got pregnant, and Killian was the only possible father. **** Damon Blackwood is in dire need of an heir. A womb to carry his baby to term in exchange for a million dollars. One thrilling encounter and he knew he had found the one. Hazel Simpson, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously beautiful, smart mouth and a gorgeous body. But she lacks one thing. Money. Out of sheer desperation, Hazel responds to an ad through a co-worker, a huge sum for a secret surrogate mom. But who says rules are meant to be obeyed? Damon wants more, her womb, her body and her soul. All of her. What happens when Hazel discovers it was all a trap from the onset. **** “Have you forgotten that I'm just a divorcee, a broken woman incapable of love, Seb?” I ask him breathlessly, staring into his eyes. “I'm going to stitch your heart, Melanie. I'm going to make you want me,” Sebastian takes my ear into his mouth and nibbles it gently, sending shivers down my spine.

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”