Histoire D'amour Novels & Stories

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.

I woke up naked beside a man I hadn’t seen in eight years. Before noon, the scandal was everywhere. By noon, I’d lost my position as CEO, my name, and my marriage. But the worst betrayal wasn’t the headlines. It wasn’t walking in on my husband and my best friend planning my downfall and mocking me. It was finding out the man I loved, my sweetheart of five years, made me a surrogate without my knowledge. The twins I'd been carrying for seven months weren't mine. But it failed to break me. It only made me stronger. After all, I wasn't just a mother—I was a CEO.

My best friend was a D-list influencer who'd blown six months of savings to drag me to a so-called "socialite finishing school." But then the instructor made us slap each other across the face — an "obedience test." I couldn't help it. I laughed. The next second, my friend was blacklisted from the entire circle, and her agent sent a termination notice. The instructor pointed at me and gave my friend an ultimatum: "Get on your knees. Slap her ten times. Then I'll lift the ban." My friend cried, trembling as she walked toward me. I sighed. The billion-dollar inheritance I'd just received — looks like the secret was about to come out.

HUNCHING my shoulders against the cold, I watched my breath mist out in front of me. It was either that or head into the convenience store opposite and grab some cigs, which I couldn’t do. Ma’d already threatened to lop off my head if she caught me stinking of smoke, and while I wasn’t averse to a clipped ear, what with being twenty, I didn’t give much of a anymore. My wrist was , thanks to how many times Da had broken it, and I’d been shot at twice. I could cope with her pulling on my ear like it was stuck on with Velcro. Dealing with Mariska’s repugnance, however, was another matter entirely.

When model student, April gets involved with the alpha players on campus(including her stepbrother, Xaden and his friends; Ace and Nick, it’s a win-win situation for them. She gets to live out her wildest and kinkiest fantasies while they get to punish her for daring to go against them, they thought it was going to be three months of intense pleasure and they'd say bye bye to each other. But things take a different turn when feelings got into it, when they realized that there's a blurred mate bond between them all, and a curse that doom them all to hell. This is a very dark romance book with lots of explicit sex contents. The male leads are actual pyschos that'd do dark and twisted things to the female lead so skip if this isn't your thing.

Three years back, a crash wrecked Rhea's hearing—and the future she'd built her life around. At her lowest point, Eddie stayed by her side like a hero, pulling her out of the shadows. But the second she got her hearing back and thought she could finally tell him... she heard the truth: he'd planned the whole thing. For his beloved. So she could win. Yeah, he was already engaged. To that girl. Rhea didn't cry. Didn't scream. Just picked up her phone. "Grandpa, I'm ready. I'm taking back the Cliburn name. And I'm entering the international piano competition as your heir."

When introverted college student, Gabriella Brooks, escapes her overbearing parents grasp. She finds solace in a quaint LA apartment. But her newfound peace was short lived as her next door neighbor Kai Alexander Flynn, a tattooed enigma with piercing eyes and a sharp tongue stirred up trouble. He was everything she'd been sheltered from, he was her antithesis: darkness to her light, chaos to her calm. Yet, in the storm of his presence, she found an unexpected freedom. She began to realize that his kind of chaos might be exactly what she needed to break free. As their animosity ignited into something fierce, she'd have to decide: Was he her ruin or her salvation? Was he her reckoning or her rebirth?

She signed her freedom away with a trembling hand and a heart full of rage. Two years as Lucien Cross's contracted wife, playing the role of loving spouse while he remained her enemy behind closed doors. Mara Quinn made a deal with the devil to save her family. He married her to claim his inheritance. Their marriage is a battlefield, their home a cage gilded in wealth she never wanted. But hate burns hot—and somewhere between the fights and the forced proximity, between the public kisses that mean nothing and the private moments that mean everything, the line between enemies and lovers begins to blur. She promised herself she'd walk away when the contract expired. He promised himself he'd never care. They were both wrong.

The notice of my mother's layoff sat on the kitchen table. Rent was due in three days. My younger brother's tutoring fees were already two weeks late. And my little sister, Stephanie, clutched her acceptance letter to the local public arts high school like she'd done something wrong. None of this would be happening if it weren't for me. My illness had taken everything our family had saved. I stayed in my room, leaning against the door, wanting to tell them I'd drop out of treatment—but I couldn't bring myself to open it. "Why did he have to fall sick?" My mother was crying, her voice low and tight, like the words were being forced out of her. "If it were just you both, Stephanie and Jamie, we'd be fine by now." "Mom, please don't say that." My brother and sister held her, barely holding back their own tears. "He's a burden… but he's still my son." Her voice cracked. "I just… I can't do this anymore…" I stepped back and sank into my chair. It wasn't an accusation. It was a verdict.

One of Ethan Sterling's closest friends got drunk and humiliated me. Called me a nobody orphan who married above her station, said I'd never be accepted by the Sterlings, that I wasn't fit to sit at their table. Ethan smashed a bottle over the man's head. He announced in front of everyone that if anyone ever disrespected me again, he'd make them pay. When I was pregnant and the morning sickness was so brutal I couldn't keep anything down, he went and scheduled a vasectomy. He didn't want me to suffer through another pregnancy. This was a man who loved me like I was his whole world. And yet — when I was lying on the operating table about to give birth, he was standing right in front of me with his arms around Iris, putting on a show for anyone watching. Iris was the daughter of another old-money family and she'd donated bone marrow to save Ethan's mother's life. The night before her own engagement, her fiance betrayed her, and the trauma wiped her memory clean. Now the only thing she knew for certain was that Ethan Sterling was her husband. In her world, I was the homewrecker — the scheming woman using the bastard in her belly to force her husband into a divorce. Ethan promised me it was all an act. Just repaying the debt for his mother's life. Once Iris recovered, he'd walk away from her immediately. But when I picked up the surgical consent form for him to sign, and his first instinct was to pull Iris behind him — to shield her — I knew. His heart had already drifted off course. The fairy tale of a Cinderella marrying into high society was over. Time to wake up.