Doctors Romane & Geschichten

My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong.

Amara Georgia Musk, the 20-year-old granddaughter of the powerful tycoon Elton Musk, has returned to T City after years of being hidden away overseas. Labeled as "the retard" by her own family and sent away to protect the Musk legacy, no one expected her return much less her claim to the empire her late parents left behind. Amara, the daughter of a renowned traditional doctor and a wealthy businessman, carries a secret strength beneath her quiet and misunderstood exterior. But not everyone is pleased with her return. Her cunning adopted uncle, and his ambitious family will do anything to stop her from taking back her rightful place even if it means ending her life. To them, Amara is nothing more than a brainless obstacle standing in the way of power and wealth. Across the city, Zogo Walton, the ruthless 30-year-old CEO and infamous underworld mafia boss, is racing against time. His beloved mother is slowly dying from a rare, mysterious poison, and not even the best doctors can help her. Known for being cold, enigmatic, and allergic to female attention he once punched a woman for trying to cling to him......Zogo makes a desperate public plea. "Whoever can save his mother will be rewarded with unimaginable wealth." When fate throws Amara and Zogo into each other's world, secrets begin to unravel. For Amara it is not who the world thinks she is. Behind her soft gaze and clumsy steps lies a hidden identity......one that may be the key to saving Zogo's mother... and changing the destiny of the Musk family forever. But in a world ruled by greed, betrayal, and power... can a misunderstood girl and a heartless mafia boss survive each other?

I was born destined to be fertile. The kind of woman who brings heirs into the world as if it were destiny. My womb had never failed me. The Schuyler family had practically begged me to marry into their family. The reason was simple. For three generations, the Schuyler family had only produced a single heir each time. Their bloodline was hanging by a thread. The patriarch of the family, Albert Schuyler, went everywhere looking for solutions. Doctors, fortune tellers, shamans, anyone who could give him hope. In the end, every prediction pointed to me. After I married Jack Schuyler, my first pregnancy was twins. The entire Schuyler family exploded with joy. Albert donated to every church and fortune teller alike, kneeling in gratitude. Before the babies were even weaned, the Schuyler family business began to thrive. Everyone said that it was the blessing of having noble heirs. Wedding gifts, properties, and company shares. The Schuyler family spared nothing. They treated me like a queen, terrified that I might suffer even the slightest. Until the day I gave birth to my third child. Jack Schuyler's true love, Bianca Chance, barged into the delivery room, screaming at me, "You shameless tramp! You're nothing but a breeding sow! One baby after the other! Are you trying to trap Jack with your womb? You disgusting woman! Jack had said that everything you give birth to will just be burdens sooner or later!" I pressed a hand on my wound and looked at her. Burden? Fine. I would take these so-called burdens with me. As for the Schuyler family's precious bloodline, they had to figure out how to continue it on their own.

Yara Ellis is a medical student, hiding in a human university while she studies to become a doctor. Unlike most, Yara is majoring in human medicine, veterinary medicine, and minoring in zoology. Since the packs are constantly at war, there are never enough doctors to help injured pack members. She’s been on her own for several years now, escaping from her previous pack and making her own way in the world, hoping to one day return to her roots and become the premier doctor of the packs. Warren Hill is an Alpha, caught up in the constant wars that abound between the packs and the battles that are never-ending. He’s a strong and powerful Alpha, but because of the constant fighting between the packs, he’s never been able to find his mate. One day when Yara is letting her wolf run, she comes across Alpha Warren, caught in a bear trap. She’s heard of this, packs leaving traps so that other pack’s members will get caught and either die a slow death or are easily killed. Warren is in his wolf form, unable to shift without ripping his leg off. Yara carefully springs the trap, releasing him from his metal capture. However, Warren recognizes her as his mate and when his pack arrives, he’s unwilling to leave her behind. Yara doesn’t want to return to Warren’s pack but is unable to fight against the Alpha and his warriors. When she hears that the one who desperately wants her, the one she ran to get away from, is now Alpha of his pack, she realizes that the safest place for her may be with Alpha Warren, even if he is her mate and even if he is unwilling to ever let her go.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

After the car accident, one of the Laurent heiresses has died, while the other lives. The moment my religious wife, Amelia Laurent, opens her eyes in the hospital, she addresses me as her brother-in-law. Then, she claims that her older sister, Penelope Laurent's soul has possessed her body. I quickly get all the doctors and priests I can find, hoping to swap Penelope's soul out for Amelia's. That is, until I overhear Amelia's conversation with our daughter, Charlotte Robinson, at night. "Mom, you've had a crush on Uncle Samuel for so many years, and you've even gone into abstinence by staying in the monastery for years. Now, you can finally be with him in the open." Amelia pats Charlotte on the head. "If it wasn't for the need to prevent your father from ruining Samuel's relationship back then, I wouldn't have married your father in the first place." As I struggle to register the truth from the shadows, I witness what happens next after Charlotte leaves the ward. Amelia, who has always prided herself on her composure and restraint; who has practiced abstinence for seven long years for the sake of her religion, proceeds to be physically intimate with Samuel Bennett—a fresh widower—on the cramped hospital bed. The next day, I apply for Amelia's death certificate immediately before burning our marriage certificate. On the day Amelia throws a grand proposal banquet for Samuel, I board the helicopter that has flown over to pick me up. But strangely enough, Amelia tears through the streets while chasing after the helicopter.

My husband's parents were stung by an unidentified venomous queen hornet and rushed to the hospital. As soon as I heard the news, I hurried to the entomology research institute to seek help from my husband, who was the director, hoping he could assist the doctors with the diagnosis. Instead, he called for security to block me at the entrance. "I don't handle work matters after hours," he said coldly. "Penny's mother is sick, and I need to go take care of her." I tried to show him the critical condition notice from the hospital, but he tore it up in one swift motion. "People die every day. So what if your dad and mom died?" After my in-laws passed away, I filed a lawsuit against Penny Madison, who had deliberately disturbed the beehive that led to the attack. My husband, who had disappeared for several days, suddenly showed up as an expert witness in court. He fabricated a false professional opinion to exonerate Penny. When I decided to leave the country, he lost his temper. "What do your parents' short lives have to do with me? Is it so hard to understand that after a long day at work, I just want to rest? And now you want to drag Penny into this mess. Just because your own family is broken, you want to ruin someone else's? How can you be so vicious? You deserve to lose your parents!" Watching his brazen attempts to twist the truth, I suddenly realized something. He still didn't know that he had become an orphan.

I was five months pregnant when my husband, James Fletcher, allowed his mistress to invade our lives—on the very night of our wedding anniversary. But she didn’t just come to flaunt her presence. She came to take my life. Pregnant and vulnerable, I confronted her, desperately clinging to my dignity. But the fight ended with me tumbling down the staircase, my swollen belly crashing against the cold, hard ground. Blood seeped across the floor, vivid and unrelenting. James only arrived after hearing about his precious mistress’ ordeal. He stood there, staring at the pool of blood, at my broken body. But instead of helping me, he rushed to her side. She had nothing but a few superficial scratches, yet he swept her off to the hospital like she was the one dying. By the time he returned, my child was gone. The doctors barely managed to save me. And what did James do? He struck me in front of everyone, his words sharper than the sting of his hand. "Lisa only wanted to bring you a Christmas gift, and you attacked her out of nowhere! You shameless witch!" “She didn’t force her way in! What nonsense! I gave her the house key ages ago. You just can’t stand that she’s prettier and kinder than you!" “You didn’t just hurt her. You killed my child! You vile, despicable woman. Why couldn’t it have been you instead?” Lisa stood beside him, pretending to comfort him while flashing me a smug, victorious smirk. James’s vicious tirade didn’t stop there. He dragged my name onto the internet, painting me as a monster.

My mother was once adored and protected by three men. As such, I had three fathers. After her death, I was raised by one of the greatest doctors, the richest man in Theala, and an award-winning actor. For 13 years, I was showered with overwhelming adoration. That was until three years ago—the day they adopted Erin, an orphan girl. From then on, they began to dote on her. When she accused me of stealing her necklace, they tore my room apart in their search, smashing my most cherished music box in the process. They only felt remorse when they saw me sobbing over the shards. As compensation, they bought me every music box they could find. When she claimed I mocked her for being an orphan, they forced me to write a hundred apology letters as punishment. They only massaged my hands in remorse upon seeing them trembling so badly that I could no longer feed myself. When Erin accused me of shredding her gown, they locked me in the dark basement, starving me for three whole days. When I was let out, they were filled with remorse upon realizing how much weight I had lost. Their bloodshot eyes watched over the grand feast they prepared as an apology. All of that lasted until Erin poisoned my cup of water. I kept coughing up blood as my body grew weaker by the day. Daniel only diagnosed me with malnutrition and made me take prescribed supplements. Unbeknownst to him, those supplements only hastened the poison's effects. After I collapsed at school, I went to the hospital for treatment. "You only have three days left to live," the doctor said. Why then… Why did my fathers drown themselves in sorrow and kill Erin after my death?

The night before our wedding, my mother needed a fifty-thousand-dollar emergency deposit for surgery. I went to my fiancé, Major Adrian Hayes, hoping he would listen before it was too late. He only saw the number. He paid the deposit in the end, but something between us broke that night. That money became the beginning of every name he would ever use against me. After that, every time I asked him for help, he sent me one hundred dollars. When I was in a car accident, he sent one hundred dollars. When I begged him to attend my mother’s funeral, he sent one hundred dollars. Eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant. I sent him seventy-seven voice messages, desperate to tell him we were having a baby. He never listened. He only sent seventy-seven payments of one hundred dollars. Later, when I started bleeding and was rushed into emergency surgery, I called Adrian and begged him to come to the hospital, to answer the doctors, to save our child. He sent one hundred dollars again. At the same time, Madeline’s Instagram story showed Adrian in his dress uniform beside her at a lavish officers’ charity gala. The comments all treated them like the perfect match. I stared at the screen until my hand went numb. I was begging for him from the edge of an emergency room while he stood under chandeliers beside another woman, looking as if he had already found the wife he wanted. By the time Adrian finally turned his phone back on, his staff officer’s voice was shaking. “Major Hayes... your wife and the baby did not make it.” And in that moment, Adrian went feral.