Novelas y relatos de Game Over: No Second Chance Novel

“Potentially.” She didn't ask for details. I appreciated that. I looked around the room. The boys were now arguing over a toy. Aunt Maggie was watching them. The house was warm. Safe. Mine. This was what I had wanted when I left New Orleans. Not revenge. Not apologies. Not the satisfaction of watching someone regret losing me. A life. And I had built one. I stood and gathered the boys. “Bedtime.” Three voices immediately protested. “But Mommy—”

the chapter accidentally repeated the chapter above instead of the intended chapter, I fixed it and if you remove the book from your library and re add it it should fix, alternatively I will post it bellow for those of you who already had the incorrect chapter and don't wnat to remove and re add. *************************** Nova’s POV

The only thing I could get out of my mouth that would keep me calm was “We are over. I don’t love you and I’ve never truly loved you. We’re done.” The next few minutes were a blur of tears, begging, and then came the words that almost cost her life “she will regret this” Luckily for Madison, Jack and Kayden had come outside to see what was going on and were able to restrain me. None of this was normal and I knew that, but I had to have her; every inch of her, every thought, every movement, everything. She. Was. Mine. Ally’s POV

That I would not see her again until far into the future. She had given me a second chance. I would take this second chance and not waste one second, one minute, or one day of it. THE END

It needs timing and sometimes, even that isn’t enough. But… second chances? Those belong to the brave. Thank you for reading, for feeling, for staying. And tell me? Do you believe some love stories deserve a second ending… or should some doors stay closed forever? With love, Silly Hearty. And please, please🥹 read my second book, it is called Second Chance Mate: The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Twice

I throw the chair towards the window-smashing both the window and the chair. She doesn’t want me. I should’ve known that this was some twisted game that the Goddess is making me play. I am not good enough to have a second mate. She probably knows of everything I have done and she hates me. I sit on the floor looking out of the window and my mind flys to eleven years ago. Eleven years ago *FLASHBACK*

I had to wake up, I had to get back to him. Tommy. But the darkness pressed down harder, pulling me deeper. I fought against it with everything I had, trying to will my eyes to open, but they stayed stubbornly shut. The silence was overwhelming, except for Richard’s voice, pleading, begging for me to come back. I’m trying, Richard. I’m trying so hard. And then, another thought surfaced, one that brought a fresh wave of despair. God, why did You give me a second chance? Why let me live again, only to take it all away?

Trusting every single person, and believing that everyone had some amount of good in them. Well, that was why I was there. To correct her narrative. To prove to her that there were certain people that would never change. And fun fact? I was one of those people. I had injected the poison into her skin. I watched take her last breath. And I was going to do it again. But this time, she wouldn’t even have the time to recover. She wasn’t going to have the mercy of the moon goddess as she had the last time. I wasn’t just going to kill her again. I was going to break her soul into tiny bits. Things just got interesting. A new game has just begun.

And this war isn’t over. I felt my pulse quicken as the realization hit me. Damian wasn’t finished. Not yet. And just like that, my fight wasn’t over either. ⸻ The war was far from over. Damian had one last move to make, and as I looked at the message, I knew I had to prepare myself. This game was about to get even darker. *** to be continued… *** Hey, awesome readers! Thanks for sticking with me through Once a Fool, Now a Queen!

How much did my wife once love me? The year we graduated from college, she spent two whole years trying to convince me to marry her. She proposed three times. The first time, I said no. The second time, I said no again. It wasn't until the third time that she gathered all our closest family and friends, then got down on one knee in front of everyone. She looked at me with a determination that left no room for hesitation. In the end, she won me over. On our wedding day, I gave her a small wooden box. Inside were exactly one hundred black metal tokens, neatly arranged in rows. I gave them a name. Second Chances. Whenever either of us did something that hurt our marriage or broke a promise, we