He Didn't Love Me Until I Left

On the day Mateo was crowned as the Alpha King of the Eastern Packs, I learned that my remaining wolf's power was depleted and that the silver curse would eventually take my life. During the coronation ceremony, the Grand Elder asked Mateo who he regretted losing the most. Without hesitation, he dialed my number. I answered, listening to his cold voice through the phone: "When I got hurt, after you left me thinking I wasn't Alpha anymore, did you ever regret it?" Looking at the astronomical bill for another month's supply of moonwort potion, I laughed softly: "Mateo, since you're so powerful now, could you lend me 500,000 for the treatment?" The line went dead instantly. On the live broadcast, I watched as his face turned to ice: "Now I have no regrets." He didn't know that seven years ago, when that cursed silver dagger was killing him, I had secretly channeled my wolf's power to him, taking the curse upon myself.

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes. She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat. There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn't look away from. He complained to the family elders, "How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?" His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused. "The women of my family are wives, never mistresses. And my husband's heart must belong only to me." Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant. "Alessia, it's just a title. I need you to give it to Chiara. Please? She doesn't understand our family's traditions, and she's making a scene about marrying me. We just need to pacify her for now. Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family's affairs." As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger. A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. If I couldn't be the wife of the heir, I would become the woman of the Don.

In a twisted tale of deceit and sacrifice, Lydia Milan who hid her identity and family endures a loveless marriage to handsome wealthy Nathaniel King, who views her only as a blood source for his ailing ex. Struggling against mistreatment, Lydia Milan finally demands a divorce and leaves the marriage and that was when Nathaniel King discovered that she was the only daughter of the richest man in the country who he has been trying to have an audience with since. "Please Lydia, give me a second chance. I swear, let me love you again." "Too late Nathaniel, I have someone else now." A suspenseful journey unfolds, revealing the compliexities of love, betrayal, and redemption in this gripping novel where hidden identities and vengeful schemes entwine in a web of secrets.

"Don't you think that skirt is short for you?" She says, changing the subject and taking another long hit from her blunt. Since when does she care about my clothing? Besides it's not like it's affecting anyone, so why does it matter? "Um, no. Why do you care anyways?" I ask suspiciously, while looking down at my skirt. It's not even short. "People are looking at you in there, and maybe it's because of what you're wearing," She throws her blunt on the ashtray that she has, and turns her attention on me staring fiercely into my eyes. "Why does it matter? It's not like it's a bad thing." I say, now worried at this point. I don't know what's going through her mind as she comes closer to me, again my back is against the wall beside the balcony railing. "It is a bad thing because it seems everyone in there wants to fuck you, and for some damn reason it's bothering me." Heaven says lowly, barely audible. ----- Hatred. Despite. Mixed feelings. Read to find out about Valentina and Heavens relationship, which starts off as despiteful, then turns into something pure.

"You can't walk away," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "Not now." I never should've followed him. I knew it the second I saw his dark, predatory eyes lock onto mine across the bar. But I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn to him, to the danger simmering beneath his cool, controlled exterior. "One night," I told myself, "just one night." But it wasn't just a night. It was a raw, thrilling ride into darkness, where he took control in ways l'd never imagined. "Do you like it when I make you beg?" he growled, and I did. God, I did. By morning, I was tangled in his sheets, marked by his touch, my body still aching from the things he'd done to me. But when I opened my eyes and saw his face in the cold light of day, reality hit like a punch to the gut. The man l'd spent the night with, the one who made me surrender in every way possible, wasn't just a sexy stranger. He was a mafia kingpin-one of the most feared men in the city. And me? I'm the future district attorney, the one assigned to take him down. "You belong to me now," he said, his voice a deadly promise. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew he was right. But what happens when the lines between law and lust blur beyond recognition?

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."

Kiela just wanted to make a call in the rooftop of the hospital where her friend got admitted because of a minor injury. She wasn't expecting to see a guy, who she had thought to commit a suicide. She only wanted to stop the stranger from killing himself and wasn't expecting to be kissed at all. "If I could turn back the time, I would never love you." - Kiela Syrbia Dela Vega "I met different people, but I didn't fall for them... because they aren't you." -Joaquin Rigues

Verssa Yanng, at a youthful nineteen years of age, boasts an undeniable allure, his striking visage, height six feet in stature, lean yet sturdy. His attractiveness is undeniable; he possesses a universally pleasing look that captivates from every angle. By the tender age of eighteen, Vers had already ascended to the summit of the fashion world as a coveted Top Super Model, dominating the runways of fashion weeks across nearly all continents. At nineteen, his cameo appearance in a movie unexpectedly seized the spotlight, with the supporting role eclipsing even the film's protagonist. Yet, the rosy facade of fame conceals its thorns. Beneath the dazzle lay the shadows of terror: malevolent letters, corrosive threats, and the persistent nocturnal intrusion of rabid fans knocking on his apartment door. Vers recalls having relocated over five times due to the relentless leakage of his whereabouts to his fanatic followers. One night, after a midnight shoot, Vers almost get kidnaped by a group that blocked his car and forcibly pulled him out. An escape landed him in a hospital bed, where he awoke to the presence of a mysterious figure in black. Gale Anderson, a former war veteran turned professional bodyguard, now stands as a sentinel for Vers. A very quiet and mysterious man, handsome yet frigid. His countenance rarely betrays emotion, six feet and five inches tall. His broad hands lifted Vers's slight frame with ease that rendered him akin to a mere child in his grasp. His aura is shrouded in enigma, withholding the identity of his employer, yet his mission remains unwavering: to keep Vers safe by any means necessary. For Vers, unfortunately, it's like a living nightmare; his freedom was robbed as his watchful bodyguard trailed him incessantly, even to the restroom.

I told Charlie my biggest secret—I was the long-lost daughter of the powerful Moore family in Dreslane. He swore he'd help me reunite with them. But the night before I met them, the Moore family made a grand declaration—they'd already found their missing daughter. A ceremony was set. I rushed there, heart pounding, only to see Charlie standing beside his childhood friend, Raine. She was being introduced as the Moore heiress. And somehow, she had the exact same birthmark as me. Before I could do anything, Charlie locked me in a restroom. "It's just a name," he said. "You still have me. So why does this matter? Raine's parents died saving me—she never had a real family. For my sake, can't you just let her have this?" Then, to erase any doubt, to make sure Raine could live as me without fear—Charlie took a knife and carved the birthmark off my body. The shock. The pain. I lost my three-month-old unborn baby that night. And as I lay there, blood soaking through my clothes, I finally gave up.

On the day Vanessa turned seventeen, she saw her mate making out with another woman. Alexander, her mate, hated Vanessa so he wanted to reject her but was rejected instead.