Final Act Of Love Novels & Stories

I've been with an award-winning actor for seven years. We've been secretly married for five of those seven years. For the sake of his career, I drink so much that I get a stomach perforation. I also allow others to trample over my pride and dignity. Yet he goes on lakeside dates with another woman and kisses her underneath the fireworks. He even has the nerve to tell me not to be unreasonable. Later, I get caught in a landslide when I'm on a business trip. I make one last call to him in fear. All I hear is him singing his lover a birthday song. I ask for a divorce after losing hope in him. That's when he suddenly begs me not to leave. He even announces our relationship to the world on th

On the day the Cole family went bankrupt, Adrian Cole left behind a suicide note and went alone to the snow mountains to end his life. I chased after him without hesitation, searching for him in the snow for a full ten hours. Just as despair hollowed me out completely, I saw his secretary, Zoe Bennett, livestreaming Adrian's proposal on social media. One of his friends joked in the comments, "You're about to be a groom. Aren't you afraid your woman will get mad?" His reply was icy cold. "I only promised her the title of Mrs. Cole. She shouldn't even think about anything else." Another comment followed. "She's marrying in with ten billion in investment. Is she really willing to swallow t

Edward and I held our engagement party in Las Vegas. Everything seemed perfect—until someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. One of Edward's female coworkers looked me straight in the eye. "I am pregnant. It is your fiancé's baby." Laughter burst out around us. Everyone thought it was a joke—except Edward. After the trip, we returned home. He looked uneasy. "I'm the father of Juliet's baby," he admitted. "Don't overthink it. We were on a business trip and got too drunk with a client. We accidentally spent the night together. "She is from a British aristocratic family. Reputation matters a lot to her. She will never marry me. She only wants to have the baby and raise it alone." "So

On my 18th round of IVF, I accidentally overheard a conversation between my husband and his secretary. Yvonne asked, "Babe, do you really have to have a baby with her? What about us?" Zayn explained, "Don't worry. I've already switched the eggs with yours. So, Candice will actually be carrying our child, and you won't have to suffer through pregnancy. When the child grows up, all the Summers fortune will be his!" I pretended I did not hear a word, focusing instead on raising the son I worked so hard to bring into this world. 18 years later, my son was celebrated as a "computer genius", and he returned home after earning his doctorate. I transferred all my shares and real estate to him wi

The year I was at rock bottom, I took on three "conquest" missions. Number One was a tech prodigy. Number Two was a genius doctor. Number Three was a top dog in the legal world. Judging by how busy they all were, I thought that with some careful time management, handling all three would be a piece of cake. However, I forgot one thing. Three CEOs meant dealing with three difficult girlfriends. That morning, Number One CEO Eric's childhood sweetheart accused me of stealing her charm bracelet. Eric beat me, yelled at me, and made me stand all day. That afternoon, Number Two's Ron's girlfriend tore into me, figuratively ripping my kidney out. Ron warned me that he had only let me get clos

The day my girlfriend got back together with her first love, I boarded a plane bound for Brindlewood. She told her first love, "Craig was just a fling. I won't have anything to do with him anymore. From now on, I'll only be by your side." Her friends all worried I might cause a scene. But they didn't know—this time, I wasn't going to make a fuss. Before leaving for Brindlewood, I had promised my mentor I'd join his medical research program. In just two weeks, I'd lose all contact with the outside world and dive into a secret project for the next ten years. From that moment on, there would be no ties between me and her anymore.

Thirty years ago, a progressive rock band called The Yellow Kings began recording what would become their first and final album. Titled “The Final Reconciliation,” the album was expected to usher in a new renaissance of heavy metal, but it was shelved following a tragic concert that left all but one dead. The sole survivor of that horrific incident was the band’s lead guitarist, Aidan Cross, who’s kept silent about the circumstances leading up to that ill-fated performance—until now. For the first time since the tragedy, Aidan has granted an exclusive interview to finally put rumors to rest and address a question that has haunted the music industry for decades: What happened to The Yel

While Alpha Leon danced with his assistant on the dance floor, I sipped wine with clients. To avoid offending anyone, I let his intoxicated self brush his cold hand against my thigh. Still, Leon never glanced at me. His attention was entirely on helping the assistant brush stray hair from her forehead, softly asking if she was hungry. When the banquet ended, the assistant complained of boredom, and Leon immediately whisked her away, leaving me behind for the next round of festivities. “The young shewolf’s been busy with work lately. I’m just taking her to relax. “You don’t like bars, so don’t follow us. “Also, I won’t be back tonight. We’ll postpone tomorrow’s marking to another day.”

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

On the tenth day after I perished in the avalanche, my husband finally remembered me. His first love was suffering from aplastic anemia and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant—one that only I could provide. He came home holding a donation consent form, ready for me to sign, only to find the house empty. Kelly leaned weakly against him. "Vanessa must really hate me. She doesn't want to donate her bone marrow, so she ran away on purpose, didn't she?" "Maybe we should just forget it," she sighed. "I can hold on a little longer." Caden gently comforted her, his heart aching. "I won't let anything happen to you." "It's just a bone marrow donation. It's not like she'll die from it." Th