Novel & Cerita How To Crack A Shoulder Blade

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

I had stopped pretending the night Sebastian sailed past our bedroom door for the third time and didn’t look back. I had married him to keep my father’s company intact. Out of my father's desperation. The vows were for the cameras and the board, everything else was ledger entries and quiet compromises. He chased his affairs in public while I held the facade. He saw my composure and called it martyrdom. He never figured out that my calm was armor, not devotion. Then Samantha came home, twenty-three, luminous, curious, the kind of warmth that made places in me I’d kept cordoned off ache. She drifted into my life with easy laughter and careless questions. A sister-in-law, that became my obsession. We started with late-night talks, her voice soft in an empty house, her hand brushing mine while we pretended we were discussing nothing at all. Those small touches stopped being accidental, but deliberate. While Sebastian was busy elsewhere, I took his sister. Not to win anything on a balance sheet, not to score a victory, but to finally have the means to protect who I am, and who I love. Samantha was bewildered at first, shame and curiosity tangling on her face, but the way she leaned into the moments we stole told me more than words ever could. It was messy and urgent and selfish. She became my refuge and my ruin. The tenderness I had once sold to survive became a liability I was suddenly proud to bear. When the scandal around Sebastian crescendoed, I didn’t hide behind the marriage or the name. I stepped into the light, shoulder to shoulder with her, exposed and fierce. I traded anonymity for that, truth wrapped in possession, and I, Mikayla Stonefield, would have done it again.

Sienna Calder swore she’d never touch her father’s world—Dorian Ashford, shipping mogul and billionaire king, left her mom to rot while he built his empire. She’s there to curse his grave when he dies, not to claim a dime. But his will traps her, naming her co-heir to his $50 billion legacy alongside Roman Valtieri, the brooding, hard-edged protégé who’s clawed his way into Dorian’s shadow—and now into hers. They’re to run the empire together or lose it all, and Sienna hates him for it: too slick, too close, every look a spark she doesn’t want. Then a letter from Dorian’s cold hand ignites the fire—he was murdered, and Roman’s name’s scratched beside the truth. A silver key and a vial of blood—hers, his—drag her deeper, promising answers locked in Ashford estate.But the walls crash in fast: Ezra Locke, a scarred snake with a grin like a blade, wants that key, and he’ll drown the place to get it. Roman’s her lifeline—gun drawn, hands steady, pulling her from the flood—and she loathes how his touch burns, how his voice steadies her when the water’s at her throat. Caught between rage and a pull she can’t name, Sienna fights the heat growing with every near miss—Roman’s too damn solid, too damn close, and she’s torn between shoving him away and pulling him in. The empire’s crumbling, the cliff’s falling, and Ezra’s not the only shadow circling—something darker watches, waiting. Love’s a gamble when blood’s the stake, and Sienna’s playing with a deck her father rigged. Can she trust Roman’s hands to hold her up, or will the crown they’re fighting for crush them both in its ashes?

I've accidentally worn a dress belonging to my deceased older sister, Gwendolyn Stokes, to a family banquet. Because of that, my husband, Thomas Torres, goes quiet with fury. He then sentences me to a punishment of kneeling in the snow for three long hours. The blizzard chills me to the bone. My son, Robin Torres, makes fun of me while hurling snowballs at me. "No matter how much you dress up, you'll always be a phony! Don't think you can go around replacing my mommy just because you've changed into her dress!" As I stare at Robin's face, which bears some resemblance with mine, I feel my heart breaking. He has no idea that I'm his actual mother. On the year Gwendolyn passed away, Thomas, who drank himself into a stupor, mistook me for her. That night, he kept moaning Gwendolyn's name and whispering sweet nothings to me. That was how I got pregnant with Robin. Thomas has forbidden me from telling anyone the truth. On the other hand, I can't bear to leave my own child alone. So, I beg Thomas repeatedly to let me stay in the Torres residence. During my stay here, Thomas gives me the cold shoulder all the time. Only when he needs to vent his desire does he seek me out. What I didn't expect is that Robin hates my guts as well. Not only does he keep pulling pranks on me from time to time, but he also curses at me. "Shameless women like you have no right to stay in my home! Once I grow up, I'll definitely kick you out!" Now, I can finally respond to him. "Oh, I don't have to wait for you to grow up at all." Tomorrow, I'll pack my things and leave. I no longer want to remain as someone else's replacement and continue living a life of humiliation. This time, I'm going to pursue a life of my own.

When I had only three months left to live after taking the cursed blade meant for my husband Lucian, his first love Lily returned. When I endured the pain and prepared a dinner to commemorate our anniversary, he did not come back, he was having a steamy car session with Lily. When I went to the hospital alone to buy medicine, he was accompanying Lili for her pregnancy check-up. I pretended not to have noticed, I just silently played the role of a perfect wife, and wrote him four letters as a gift for our anniversary. After I die, he saw the gifts I left behind and went completely insane.

On her wedding day, Kayla doesn’t walk into love… she walks into punishment. Forced to marry Dante Cruz—the man who believes she destroyed his past—she becomes a wife hated before she is even known. Dante doesn’t want a bride. He wants revenge. Cold stares, cruel whispers, and a marriage built on bitterness turn their home into a battlefield. But when buried secrets about the night that changed everything begin to surface, hate starts to crack… and something far more dangerous begins to grow. Because in a house built on revenge, even the smallest spark can turn into obsession. And Kayla is no longer just his enemy… She is the one he can’t let go of.

She married him to save her sister’s life. He married her to save his crown. For two years, Alicia kept her vows and her silence--until the night Edward Valentine asked for an open marriage and stepped back into the orbit of the woman he once called his first love. When her sister collapses and Alicia faces the worst alone, she finally sees the truth: beneath his cold vows, there was never a heart for her at all. But distance cuts deeper than anger. And when the life he built without love starts to crack, Edward learns the cost of the wife he treated like a stranger. Now the man who never begged may have to. If she’s still there to listen.

A human. My mate? No. That wasn't right. Humans were weak. They were servants at best—slaves at worst. They didn't belong with us. They weren't made for love. I turned suddenly and slammed my fist into the stone wall beside me. The sharp crack of bone against stone echoed through the room. The boy had been dragged away, out of my sight, and I still felt the burn of his presence in my chest. My claws had already pushed out, sharp and uncontrollable. My eyes burned, the edges of my vision tinted red. The beast within me was on the edge of taking over. "He's nothing!" I roared to no one in particular. "He can't be my mate!"

Until her ninth birthday, Iris lived a charmed life—until the Tyrant Zavan shattered it. She watched in horror as his Lycan forces slaughtered her entire pack. To her worst terror, the brutal Lycan King recognized her as his fated mate. Years later, hatred still burns in Iris’s heart. A failed escape throws her back into Zavan’s path—and gives her a chance at revenge. She drives a blade into his chest… only to scream as the same pain tears through her own body. Bound by a mate bond that links their lives and their pain, Iris now faces an agonizing truth: to hurt him is to destroy herself.

📖 Full Synopsis (Professional, 30-Chapter Summary) In a realm where the abyss bleeds whispers into men’s hearts, Aria, a gifted warrior bound to light, finds herself tethered to Lucien, a man scarred by an ancient mark. Their alliance begins in unease but quickly deepens into fragile trust, even as shadows stir within him. As armies clash and kingdoms fracture, Rowan, the enigmatic elder, and Kael, a fierce commander, fight to keep their ranks united. Yet Lucien’s mark grows restless, seeding betrayal, suspicion, and fear. Aria stands at his side, convinced that his humanity can be preserved, while others believe the abyss has already claimed him. The march to war spirals. Battles scar the land, alliances fray, and Lucien’s struggle becomes the fulcrum of fate. In the Breaking Storm, shadow and flame engulf the battlefield. Lucien teeters on the edge of becoming a weapon of the abyss. Aria refuses to yield, her voice anchoring him even as his blade rises against her. Kael’s blood is spilled in defiance, Rowan binds the storm in desperate runes, and Aria steps into the abyss itself, whispering her vow. In the climax, Lucien shatters his own blade, breaking free from the darkness—but not without scars. The storm collapses, leaving silence in its wake. In the aftermath, enemies bury their dead side by side. Kael rebuilds broken ranks, Rowan warns that the abyss never releases its scars, and Aria tends to Lucien’s healing—both body and soul. Though the mark lingers faintly beneath his skin, her vow holds stronger: never again will the abyss take him. The book closes on dawn: the storm passed, the stars returned, and two hands held fast against the dark.