Fnf Bf Holding Gf Novels & Stories

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

‘She was MINE before. How could I have known she would find another man so quickly?’Dresden Wade was pretty sure the goddess was punishing him. Married for half a decade to his childhood sweetheart without a child, he is desperate for a chance to fight his wrongs when he sees her again.His TRUE mate. The woman he scorned and humiliated all those years ago.Except that now, she is standing holding hands with another Alpha.Mara Reid wants nothing to do with the surly, arrogant Alpha that used to be her mate. He had made the earlier parts of her adulthood traumatic to say the least.So why did meeting him again feel like coming home? Why did her traitorous heart skip whenever he called her name?

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.

Five years ago, Daniel Douglas publicly called off their engagement and sent her to prison himself. On the day of her release, Daniel took her to the hospital, demanding, "Serena Avery has been in a car accident and needs a kidney transplant. Give her yours." She refused, but he coerced her by all means. On the day of the surgery, her heart suddenly stopped and resuscitation failed. It was said that the man who wanted her dead wept at her grave for three days and three nights. Later, Daniel saw her again at the Douglas family home. She was already holding a five-year-old child, having married his elder brother Ethan and become his beloved and spoiled wife. Daniel: "Jasmine, I know I was wrong，please come back!" Ethan: "Get out! She's your sister-in-law now."

My mate, Carter, sent me to a werewolf prison for four years. On the day I was released, he arrived holding the hand of his pregnant mistress. “This is what your parents owe me.” “From today on, you’ll take care of Amelia.” I nodded obediently. She made me pick roses with my bare hands. Made me plant a hundred pots under the scorching sun. Made me scrub my allergic, ulcerated skin with alcohol. And I did everything she asked. Until the day they brought me back to my old home. The house was gone. In its place stretched an endless rose garden. And my only sister— had become nothing but a box of ashes. That was the moment I understood. I survived not to atone. I survived to take revenge.

My son, Scott Gould, suddenly tells me that he has leukemia. Then, he goes on to say that his biggest wish is to see Ivanna Newman in a wedding dress. My husband, Theodore Gould, agrees with Scott. "I'll hold a wedding with Ivanna. Once Scott is done with his treatment, we'll get remarried." I gladly agree to the request and divorce Theodore. Not long after, I learn from Scott's social media that he's attending the wedding of Theodore and his childhood sweetheart, Ivanna. The caption he writes says, "I'm so happy for Dad. I can't help but shed tears for true love." I smile and turn off my phone. Holding the hand of the person next to me, I board a plane to Wismuth.

Chuck's beloved ex, Ella, got divorced and showed up with her two-year-old daughter. Without asking me, he let Ella and her kid move into our home. Then Ella posted a photo of Chuck holding the child, captioned: [My husband cheated, so I filed for divorce, gave my baby a new dad, and found myself a new husband.] The comments were full of praise: [Real-life boss woman drama!] I had to laugh—so being a homewrecker is what counts as a strong woman now? Chuck didn't see a problem. He even told the child to call me "Momma." "Ella's husband cheated on her. She's raising a kid alone. As a woman, can't you have a little empathy? I'm just helping her out." Well, I had no empathy to give—not for the mistress, and definitely not for the scumbag.

My dad urgently requested that I bring Jeffrey back as he was rushed to the emergency room following a car accident. I nodded, holding back tears, but deep down, I knew Jeffrey harbored resentment toward me. He blamed me for his shattered relationship, my inherited wealth, and for coming between him and his first love. Nothing could deter him from pursuing her, not even me. "Evalyn, today is Melinda's birthday. Can you just be reasonable for once?" He spoke these words amidst the familiar sounds of laughter before abruptly ending the call. Moments later, my dad took his last breath, his eyes wide open in a final, stark gaze. As I fulfilled his last requests, organizing everything as he had instructed, I decided to let Jeffrey go. It was only then that he began to regret everything…

I married a man I couldn't touch then slept with a man I couldn't trust. After walking in on my husband in bed with my cousin and getting her pregnant. I didn’t just sign the divorce papers. I lit them on fire. Frigid, they called me. Uptight. Ice queen. So I moved out. Looked for a roommate. Someone quiet. Preferably female. Her name was Kylie. Except... Kylie turned out to be Kyle—a smug, tattooed stranger with a dirty-mouth and secrets carved into his smirk. He’s cocky, cruel, and way too hot for a man who eats peanut butter from the jar and calls it dinner. One drunken night, I let him in. All the way in. And I swore it meant nothing. Until I found my uncle lying in a pool of blood— And Kyle was holding the gun.

Clara stood in the middle of the glass room with her transparent clothes, holding back her embarrassment while trying to cover her body with both hands. There were cheers from outside the glass room and naughty looks from the hungry men. "1 million," "5 million," "7 million," Everyone placed a bet on Clara at a fairly low price, tears kept going to roll down Clara's rosy cheeks. Her body was almost shaky and she couldn't meet everyone's eyes, she was like a kitten amidst a hungry lion. "50 million," A man's voice that surprised her made their eyes meet. A most dangerous mafia chief raises his betting cards and shocks everyone. Steven looked at Clara with a grin, as if he was ready to eat Clara alive. His eyes were sharp like a wolf's, and it was him.