Everything That Has A Beginning Has An End Novels & Stories

My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on. She needed a transplant. Fast. But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead. That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope. That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time. All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her." Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way. And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.

We had been dating for ten years before my boyfriend, Shawn Jepson, agreed to marry me.  When the wedding photographer asked us to pose a few kissing shots, Shawn claimed he had germophobia and walked out on me.  I awkwardly apologized to the team.  Taxis were a rare commodity during blizzards, so I trudged through the snow to get home.  To my dismay, I stumbled upon Shawn tongue-deep into his crush’s throat in what was supposed to be our marital home.  “Just say the word, Casey, and I’ll leave Jessica.”  Later, word went around that Shawn searched the world for his ex-fiancee, begging her to return.

“Oops! You’ve run out of your happy days,” she sang. After the tragic death of Noah's family, his heart was adorned with eternal cracks. He finally found a reason to live. Noah Parker and the love of his life, Ella, are married now. One night, the hallucinations about his twin sister engulf him to an extent that Noah injures himself. An argument breaks out between him and Ella because he refuses to see a psychiatrist. In the middle of the night, Noah is awakened by a blinding light. He discovers that his wife is missing. Ella’s quest leads him to the forest surrounding the lakehouse. He passes out in the woods. Searching for his wife will leave Noah’s heart with even deeper cracks. Veiled truths. Everlasting wounds. Harrowing past.

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

A wolf in hunter's clothing. Belle is a rare and odd beauty among her pack. Unlike the lycans in her pack who can combine themselves with their wolves when they shift, she can only become a full wolf or a full human. She is different, but that does not mean that she is weak. With her being the newly appointed beta of the pack, the alpha assigned her a mission to watch over a human child. Belle did not like the idea of using a kid for their plans to take down the humans, so she helped the girl escape. Because of saving the child she was adopted by the humans, allowing her to enroll to their academy and learn their secrets to compensate to her pack for letting the child escape. But the more she learns, the more she realizes she is siding with the wrong people. Mysteries emerge as she learns that she is not the only lycan who can shift between human and wolf, or otherwise known as werewolves. Whenever she tries to learn about these creatures like her, she is always hampered by Ajax Finnegan, another hunter in training at the academy who is just as strong as she is. To Ajax, he feels like Belle is hiding something. He can sense that she's too different - too special, to be just an ordinary human. She's a beauty with the strength of a beast. Will Belle continue to side with the lycans, or will she continue her search for answers about these so called werewolves? Can Ajax figure out the beauty's secret?

On the day I successfully conceived through IVF, my CEO boyfriend—the sole heir to a nine-generation business empire—finally agreed to marry me. Yet, after a flight of more than ten hours, I landed only to be greeted by a public announcement of his marriage to his secretary, with journalists watching from every angle. The secretary eagerly showed off the marriage certificate, fresh off the press. "Don't worry, everyone. From now on, I'll personally supervise Mr. Lane for the rest of our lives." When the journalists spotted me, they all focused on me, hoping I'd cause a scene. However, I merely smiled and congratulated the couple. "You and Mr. Lane are perfect for each other, Ms. Quinn. I wish you both a long and happy marriage." Everyone was shocked. No one had expected such generosity from me—Harold's girlfriend of nine years. As I turned to leave, Harold darted over to defend himself with a scowl. "Leila worked day and night with me on this international project. She refused every bonus and only asked to experience the fairy-tale romance of marrying a CEO. We already agreed to divorce once the project is over. I'll make it up to you with an even bigger, better wedding." Then, his voice softened. "For the sake of our baby, don't cause trouble, okay?" With a bright smile, I slapped his hand away. "Who told you the baby's yours?"

My wife, Chelsea Sloane, has always been an avid user of computers when it comes to work. But one day, she suddenly falls in love with the idea of using pen and paper. In fact, she loves one particular black pen to the point that she refuses to let anyone touch it. Unable to endure her twisted obsession over that pen, I decide to bring up divorce before her on our wedding anniversary. Enraged, Chelsea points at me and yells, "Are you seriously getting a divorce over a pen?" I reply coolly, "Yup. It's precisely that."

Janine’s plan was simple: just one night. One night to earn enough money to ease the crushing weight of her mother’s medical bills and secure her brother’s future. She had no intention of staying. This job—this world—was a desperate detour, not a new path.But the moment she stepped into that room and locked eyes with the man sitting like royalty in the shadows, everything shifted.He wasn’t just any client.He was Theo Lucas Guevara III, the man she had only seen from afar—on TV screens, in headlines, in the hushed gossip of women who dreamed beyond their means. Powerful, untouchable, and dangerously magnetic.She thought he would take what he wanted and leave.But to her surprise, the billionaire didn’t just want one night.He wanted her.And he was willing to pay any price to keep her.

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

I was in San Aria Bay with my mom, enjoying a quiet, sunlit getaway, when my phone suddenly lit up with a string of messages from my husband's ever-arrogant secretary. She sent a photo. The woman in it had been stripped naked, her body covered in blood, the sight almost unbearable. A voice message followed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Jeannie, do people like you always take advantage of others like this? "Mr. Smith just bought this house, and you already had your mother move in for free? As his chief secretary, it's my responsibility to remove anyone living off him."