I Can't Save Us My Atlantis Novels & Stories

After being reborn, the first thing I did was switch my newborn daughter. In my previous life, soon after she was born, a blood test showed her type was AB. But mine was B, and my husband's was O—there was absolutely no way we could have an AB-type child. My husband flew into a rage and demanded a paternity test on the spot. To everyone's shock, the results proved she was biologically related to me, but not to him. He slapped me hard across the face, his voice trembling with disappointment. "I've always treated you well. I only ever loved you—and this is how you repay me?" My mother-in-law wailed and cursed me for cheating, accusing me of bearing another man's child to steal their family fortune. I was completely stunned. I knew better than anyone who the father of my child was—how could she possibly not be my husband's? In no time, everyone turned against me. They called me a cheater, a tramp. My husband divorced me and went online to play the victim, stirring up a storm of hate and harassment that never seemed to end. With nowhere to go and no one left to believe me, I took my baby in my arms and jumped from a building. Even in death, I couldn't make sense of it all. And when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my daughter was born.

I never meant to kiss him. It was a stupid mistake—a reckless moment fueled by too much adrenaline and the thrill of a party I should never have been at. But when my lips brushed against his, the world stopped. His hands gripped my waist, his breath tangled with mine, and for a fleeting second, I forgot who he was. Liam Blackwood. My stepbrother. The guy who had tormented me since the day our parents married. The brooding, tattooed bad boy with a reputation that made girls weak in the knees. I should have pulled away. I should have screamed. Instead, I let him deepen the kiss, let his touch set my skin on fire. Now, we’re trapped in a dangerous game of stolen glances, whispered threats, and undeniable chemistry. Every moment alone is a ticking bomb. Every brush of his fingers makes me crave something I can’t have. He’s forbidden. Off-limits. But the way he looks at me? The way he makes me feel? It’s only a matter of time before we cross the line again. And this time, there will be no turning back.

I get injured thanks to my mount trampling over me during the hunting rite. When I get sent back to Aureveil Citadel by my follower, Caelum Dawnmere, the strongest general in Auremount as well as my fiance, is currently dancing with my younger sister, Elara Aureveil, on the altar. My parents, Aldric Aureveil and Vaelis Sorenwyn, as well as my older brother, Darren Aureveil, surround Elara happily as they celebrate the fact that she has become the Sacred Huntress of Aureveil. My follower asks to meet with the Aureveils multiple times, seeing as she wishes to inform them of my injury. But all of her requests are denied ruthlessly on the spot. In fact, Caelum even tells my follower to send me a message. "Stop being dramatic, Sylara. Today is Elara's first time holding the title of the Sacred Huntress of Auremount. You can tell me whatever it is that you want to tell me after the ceremony is over." I no longer ask my follower to tell my family or Caelum anything. Since then, I calmly allow the healers to continue healing me. This is their 99th time abandoning me for Elara's sake. That's why I'm abandoning them as well. I no longer fight with Elara over any titles of glory. In fact, I go along with every order they give me. Finally, I become the perfect princess who doesn't fight with anyone over anything. But what my family and Caelum don't know is that I will be leaving them permanently.

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't fuck your brains out right now?" he ask and I shudder. "Nnn... Nooo! I don't have a reason," I stutter. "Good! I am about to forget you are my princess and fuck you like a slut," he promises as he fucks me. "I am a slut, only for you," I murmur. ******* I have always had a crush on my dad's best friend but Jack never saw me as a woman and rather he always referred to me as a child and treated me just like one. Just that, something ws soff in the eau he looked at me and spoke to me from time to time. I could feel the need in his voice and fire in his eyes. So when my parents had to leave for some days and he was asked to take care of me I knew that was the only chance I will ever get at making my feelings known to him and to know whether or not what I saw was real ot if I wasn't Hallucinating. The first few nights were tough and he kept off saying I was off limits to him, but what if I am not and he is only trying to send me away bechause of the lady I saw him kissing the other night?

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times. The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered. The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded. The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad. The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died. I was done giving in. I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it. No compensation or apology would matter. I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

Since my daughter, Lucy Shepherd, is an only child, my husband, Felix Shepherd, and I have decided to find her a live-in son-in-law. I ask on an online forum, "If my future son-in-law has a master's degree from a top university and earns over 10,000 dollars a month, what kind of wedding gift would seem appropriate to welcome him into the family?" Someone jokingly replies, "You'd probably have to be loaded to get a son-in-law like that. Why not give him ten million dollars as a wedding gift?" Without any hesitation, I take the person's advice and give Paul Cranston, my future son-in-law, and his family ten million dollars, along with a riverfront apartment. However, to guard against the possibility of Paul and his family seizing Lucy's inheritance for themselves once we're gone, I make Paul sign a prenuptial agreement. It clearly states that all their children must take the Shepherd family name and that the family's assets will not go to anyone with a different last name. Paul agrees to it and even thanks me profusely for everything. Yet, when Lucy gives birth to her second child, he immediately grabs the baby and changes his tune. "Even though I married into the Shepherd family, that doesn't mean I'm no longer my own person! My son must take my family name! This affects my dignity as a man!" I scoff in anger, but before I can say anything, Lucy, who is completely blinded by love, tearfully takes Paul's side. "Just go along with it, Mom. We're all a family anyway. Why must you harp on whose last name is used?" I hold my ground and refuse to back down. But the very next day, Lucy flies abroad with Paul, bringing along her two children. They have no qualms about moving into the property that Felix and I had bought abroad, as if it were their own. Despite being 58 years old, I am so enraged by her foolishness that I drag Felix to a fertility clinic. We start the IVF process. After turning 59 years old, I give birth to a son. Just as the nurse brings him to me, the door to the hospital room flies open. The family of four, who have just rushed back in a hurry, freeze in place.

When I met Ethan Stone, his family had just gone bankrupt. He had fallen hard and was at his lowest point. I stayed with him for eight years and helped him rebuild everything. We were finally about to get married. On our engagement day, I was kidnapped by his greatest rival. When I came back safely, he held his secretary in his arms and looked at me with disgust. “Jane, you’re no longer pure.” I felt my heart sink. I let him go and chose to fall into the arms of his rival.

After being reborn, I stayed away from my husband every chance I got. He told me to be a housewife after college, but I secretly applied for graduate school. He would give his first love money to help her, but I quietly kept the money away. He said he was ready to marry me, but I ran away instead. In my past life, his first love and I had babies at the same time. However, he secretly switched them. My real child died when she was born. So, I ended up raising their child and helping him succeed. When we were old, they pushed me off a mountain so that they could be together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the year I graduated.

I ground my hips against him, seeking friction. He groaned into my mouth, one hand moving to my breast, squeezing it firmly. His thumb brushed over my nipple through my bra, making it harden instantly. I broke the kiss to gasp, but he pulled me back, his lips claiming mine again. We kissed like we couldn't get enough, tongues tangling, breaths mixing in short pants. Anthony's other hand slid down to my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I rocked my hips faster, feeling the outline of his cock rub against my pussy. My panties were soaked now, the fabric clinging to me. He broke the kiss this time, trailing his mouth down my neck, sucking on the skin there. I tilted my head back, letting him bite lightly, the sensation sending sparks through my body. 'Florence,' he whispered against my throat, his voice rough. 'I need to taste you.' ************** Five years ago, Florence Davidson lost everything. Her family, their fortune, and her brother was framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Now, she’s back with one goal, to destroy the man she blames for it all. But billionaire CEO Anthony St. Louis isn’t the villain she expected, just cold, brilliant, and far more complicated. When a twisted truth surfaces and sparks fly between them, Florence finds herself torn between revenge and a love she never planned for. As secrets unravel, a child appears, a hidden past resurfaces, and the real enemy steps out of the shadows. Love was never part of the plan... but it might be the only way out.

My older sister was always kind-hearted, while I was born a natural troublemaker. When the intense heatwave struck, our family stocked up on supplies and stayed indoors. My sister saw a little boy, who seemed about seven or eight years old, crying and asking for help. She decided to take him in. “We’ve plenty of supplies anyway. One more person won’t make much difference. Besides, he’s just a child.” I warned her that the boy looked oddly mature and might not be as innocent as he seemed. I suggested we observe him a bit longer. She said I was a cold-hearted troublemaker by nature. Then, she went and let him in anyway. Not just that, but she also convinced our mother to force me to share a room with the boy. That night, the scheming “little boy” secretly climbed into my bed. I was brutally assaulted. Yet my sister told me to let bygones be bygones and marry him. To force me to obey, she locked me out on the balcony at over 140 °F. Enraged, I set a fire and killed everyone. When I opened my eyes again and saw my sister safe and unharmed, I smiled. This time, I would show them what a troublemaker really was.