Novel & Cerita Elden Ring Sanguine Noble

"I was supposed to Stay Gone." ...He married me. He gave me a diamond ring with sweet words… and a lie. I thought it was love. But I was just holding her place. The woman whose lies he believed. Now she’s awake. And I don’t know who I am to him anymore. A wife? A stranger? Or just a body keeping what belongs to her  safe? They broke me. But this time, I’m not the same woman they left behind.

After a whirlwind secret marriage to ruthless billionaire Kian Donovan, struggling writer Eliora Monroe disappears without a trace, leaving only divorce papers behind. Two years later, she's back as a bestselling author with secrets, fame, and a ring on her finger that doesn't belong to him. But when Kian discovers the real reason she left—and the child she kept hidden—he'll stop at nothing to reclaim what's his.

Andreios a beautiful man turned Dark after the gruesome murder of his family and his village. ************ Gouria a lucky charmer of a man destined for only one purpose. ********** Damon a gentle soul and a warrior who is hopelessly in love with his master. ******** Xrysos the Master and Lord over East Gates. The great city rich in Gold and abundant in Beauties. ********** Athesmos the lawless and Evil Man of Vile and Dark Castle. ********** Kairos a great and noble friend to Gouria and a sucker for love. ********* Linos the beautiful and innocent. ***************************** Do you wish to know more about these men and their fates and all the sexy good kinds of stuff? Well, if that's a yes. Then let's go!!!!.. (#ManxMan)

I was born into the noble Valerie family, gifted by blood with the rare ability to bond with vampires and bear them powerful hybrid children. Since I was a child, I had been secretly in love with James, the vampire noble I was betrothed to. Everyone knew his heart belonged to one person only — his childhood companion, Vicky. But she was engaged to James's older brother. The night of their engagement banquet, James accepted my confession. He said we could try. I nodded and told him I didn't mind. I was willing to wait until he let her go. Then he gave the wedding I had designed with my own hands to Vicky. He stood in the groom's place, holding her hand through the rehearsal. And I stood below the stage, the laughingstock of the entire room. That night, he got drunk. He held me and said he loved me. I thought he had finally laid down his obsession, so once again I forgave him and let go of my pride. Until he called out Vicky’s name. In that moment, I finally understood. The one James loved would never be me. I had stored up enough disappointment. The next day, I disappeared from his world for good. Five years later, I ran into him by chance, a hybrid boy in my arms. He came rushing toward me like a man gone mad, eyes red, begging me to come back.

Chester Ford brings home a female university student for the 10th time during our 10th wedding anniversary banquet. He walks into the banquet hall with the young lady in his arms. "Don't you see that your outfit is clashing with hers, Yuna Sutherland? Take off your dress. Right here and now." He slowly loosens his tie while I take a step back in panic. He then proceeds to tug my pearl necklace from my neck. "What are you waiting for? Stop acting like you're innocent. Your father tossed your younger sister to Ford Group to be a kept woman back then. He also practically delivered you straight onto my bed, all for 30 million dollars. I'll never forget how he looked when he was begging on his knees." Everyone eagerly watches the drama unfold with champagne glasses in hand. I stare at the wedding ring on his ring finger, which is close to becoming tarnished. For the 10th time, I request a divorce. Chester sneers. "How original of you, Yuna. Yet, you eventually kneel and plead for forgiveness every time. If you leave the Ford family, who's going to pay to keep your sister alive in the ICU?"

“Take it off, dusha moya.” His voice was a low, feral growl against my ear. His kisses trailed down my neck—slow, claiming, deliberate. His gaze burned where it landed… on my ring. The ring my husband gave me. The husband who wasn’t him. “Why?” I whispered, breathless. Cassian’s lips brushed my chest, hot and possessive. “I don’t want any trace of him on you while I fuck you.” The ring slid off my finger. The jewel hit the floor. And my world shattered all over again. — Elara Mei was the perfect daughter—obedient, quiet, raised to follow orders without question. Even when it meant breaking her own heart by leaving Cassian Ivanov. Years later, her father signs a contract with the powerful Ivanov family. The price? Her marriage to their second son. She accepts. Like she always does. Until she discovers the truth— Her new husband’s brother is the man she once loved. The man she never stopped loving. The man who will burn the world to claim her back. Caught between loyalty and desire, duty and obsession, Elara must make an impossible choice: The man she’s bound to by contract… or the man who owns her heart, her body, and her ruin?

Because of her first love's piano competition, my fiancee, Ashley Blake, postpones our wedding for the 17th time seven years into our relationship. On the eve of the competition, she chops off my ring finger just because Marc Tyson claims I injured his hand and ruined his ability to compete. The pain of losing my finger leaves me crying in agony, but she simply holds him in her arms and stares me down with indifferent eyes. She says, "Stop pretending, Troy Clinton. You're a grown man. What's all this fuss over losing a finger? Besides, you merely lost one finger. Marc has lost the dream he spent his whole life chasing! This is what you owe him." Her cruel words shatter my heart into tiny pieces. She has forgotten that my fingers are also meant to dance across piano keys. "The wedding next week is postponed," she says dismissively while covering Marc's reddened fingers. She adds, "This has nothing to do with Marc. It's simply because you can't wear a wedding ring with a missing finger anyway." Clutching my bleeding hand, I finally wake up to reality. From this moment onwards, we owe each other nothing.

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.

My father came from Italy to watch my first wedding. He watched Luca Romano let go of my hand ten minutes before the vows, because Celeste called and said she could not breathe. That day, Don Moretti did not scream. “Take the time you need. But when you finally understand he will not choose you at the altar, come home.” I thought he did not understand love. So I stayed in New York. I gave Luca seven weddings. Every time, he came back with flowers, apologies, and a new wedding date. “Elena,” he always said, “this is the last time.” Even his friends had stopped pretending not to laugh. “She won’t leave,” one of them said. “She just wants him to apologize harder.” I would have stayed for real love. I would not stay for a man who only remembered me after choosing someone else. That was when I finally understood. He had mistaken my love for a place he could always return to. On the morning of our eighth wedding, I put my engagement ring into a white velvet box. Just then, my father called. “The helicopter is ready,” he said. At the altar, Luca waited for me with the wedding ring in his hand. This time, I let him wait.

I came to him broken at nineteen. He was my alpha, my guardian, forbidden in every way that mattered. Then I almost married his son. Almost. One betrayal. One ruined wedding. One night where Damien stopped being noble and started being mine. Now I know what those rough hands feel like wrapped around my throat. What that filthy mouth sounds like when he calls me good girl and means it in the dirtiest way possible. His son wanted a wife. His father wanted to own me. And God help me, I was always meant to be Daddy's.