I Heard It Too Novels & Stories

“Even if she gets pregnant, I don’t want the child!” That was the sentence that shattered everything I believed about love, marriage, and loyalty. To him, I was a mistake he could erase. A wife he regretted. A life he wished he never chose. So I left. Silently. Completely. Without looking back. But what he didn’t know was that I was already carrying a part of him he had rejected before it even existed. Now he wants answers. Now he wants me back. But some doors, once closed, don’t open again… especially when a child stands between love and regret.

For stumbling upon a purge, I was taken by the city’s most dangerous don, Lucca of the Rossi family. He said it was the only way I’d survive. So he kept me in his mansion, taught me how to shoot, and drilled me in the rules of the underground world. He would stroke my hair and call me his innocent lily. Everyone knew I was his woman. Until one day, he handed me over to the enemy to secure an alliance with the Balsamo family. That was when I realized I was never his lover, just the sharpest blade in his hand. I buried all my feelings, faked my death, and disappeared. Years later, we met again at a casino. He looked at me in a backless gown, the rose tattoo on my back on full display. “Eliana, I once loved that purity of yours. Look at you now—tempting, yet cheap.” I smiled lightly, brushing his hand away. “Can’t help it, Don Rossi. The owner of this place just likes me this way.”

I had lost count of how many times Aaron and I had dissolved our mate bond. He always said it was temporary. Vivian was the only she-wolf from Blackridge Pack who had made it into Hollywood. Her father had died saving Aaron during a rogue ambush. From then on, Aaron treated Vivian like a debt he could never repay, and I became the easiest thing to sacrifice for that debt. Whenever Vivian returned, Aaron took me to the Bonding Hall and dissolved our bond. Whenever she left, he came back and let the elders write our names into the bond ledger again. In Blackridge Pack, Aaron could take me to the Bonding Hall, dissolve our sanctioned bond, and come back for me when Vivian no longer needed him. At first, I cried and begged. Later, I learned to pack quietly, sign quietly, and hand back the Luna position along with whatever tenderness he had left for me. But this time, when Aaron waited at the Bonding Hall to renew our mate bond, I never came.

“I love you always and forever.” Carl whispered in my ears, making my face flush red but seeing his mother's glare from behind him, the blush faded. Georgia Timbers stood as an obstacle to our union, she stood against our relationship and did all she could to ruin us. “You'll never be good enough for my son!” She cursed at me occasionally. She always reminded me that I'd never live peacefully as long as I remained in Carl's life. “Will you marry me?” Carl proposed to me—The only dream I wished to come true for years but thinking back to the warnings from his mother, I wondered if our love was worth risking my life for. Staying with him would kill me gradually with every day that passed by. Leaving him would leave me broken until we meet again. This was a tough decision but I made my choice. And the consequences of my choice changed my life in a way that I would have never imagined!

Carson Walters, one of the wealthiest lawyers in New York City, cold and undefeatable in court, happens to come across Lydia Darling who was on the verge of ending her life. "Go on, jump" Carson urges her to jump down the bridge "Or come down and I'll help you" Carson promised to help Lydia get back her daughter and also help her with the divorce case but what happens when Carson begins to fall in love with his client, Lydia Darling? "Come on Darling, let me take care of you and your princess" Carson reached for her cheek but she turned away, "Mr. Carson, I'll rather keep our relationship professional" Lydia, who had gone through hell at the hands of her ex-husband had vowed not to have anything with any man but what happens when she finds Carson Walters awakening feelings she thought were dead inside her? Feelings that were foreign and she had wished to experience but never came before? With memories about her past coming up at the verge of her happiness would she give in her all or let it all go? How would Lydia, who has gone through hell at the hands of her husband accept another man into her life?

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

During the holidays, my boss wants us to choose between a holiday bonus and tarts. I don't like tarts at all, so I'm the first one to vote for a bonus. But the intern, Davin Holt, who's in charge of gathering everyone's votes and opinions, is quick to pin me on the hall of shame in the company's group chat. "Fabian, we mainly celebrate the holidays just to experience the atmosphere, you know? Isn't it too materialistic of you to vote for a bonus instead?" The department head tags me in the group chat as well. "Fabian, our company prioritizes the team spirit even more." In the end, everyone except me chooses the tarts. On the day of our holiday team bonding event, Davin bought everyone nut tarts. He knows that I'm allergic to nuts, and yet he still forces me to eat the tart in front of my boss just to show that I have team spirit. "Fabian, I bought the tarts with everyone's bonus. You can't just rain on our parade by rejecting them, right?" The next thing I know, I begin having difficulties breathing. At the same time, patches of red rashes break out on my skin. But Davin shoots me a look of disgust. "Dude, must you really spoil the mood while everyone else is having fun?" Desperately, I rummage through my bag for my allergy medication, only to see more tarts in its place. The sight of me looking so wretched makes Davin roar in laughter. "Medicine can be harmful to you, you know! You should have more desserts instead! That's why I've changed all of your medication to tarts!" Already, I find it more and more difficult to breathe. So, I text the CEO of this company on the spot. "Mom, my allergy is acting up! I'm at…"

Lydia Darnell died after betrayal. She was framed by her family, abandoned by her husband, and discarded like trash. But death wasn’t the end. She wakes up three months before her murder with one chilling resolve. Once bitten, twice shy. This time, she would never take the fall for her sister’s crimes. She would not stoop low to beg for her cold billionaire husband’s attention. Lydia sets out to dismantle the gilded cage they had used to imprison her. And she certainly will never let the so-called “gratitude” be used as a leash. Adrian Blackwell watches in stunned silence until the wife he ignored becomes the woman he can’t live without. Now that he is obsessed with her, he would do anything to win her back. But Lydia’s done playing victim. Her revenge is quiet, lethal, and flawless without an iota of empathy. Along comes Lucas Costello, a kind architect who shows her what real love looks like. And Adrian realizes too late that the woman he had been hell-bent on destroying is the only one who ever truly loved him. He wants her back again, but some second chances, they come too late.

In the world of crime family, Don Damian and I were known for two things: him for running wild, me for standing by him. Everyone knew I was crazy about Damian. It started when we were kids. I was born with a congenital heart defect. My parents couldn't afford the surgery and chose to walk away. Back then, Damian was just a street-level errand boy whose father had gambling debts. He had no standing, no money, nothing. But to raise cash for my surgery, he volunteered for the most dangerous work the Coronelli family had, the kind where each job was a gamble with his life and every payday came in blood. He clawed his way up. The Don eventually took him in as an adopted son, and I became his wife, just like I'd always hoped. But ten years into our marriage, Damian stopped coming home. I'd sit alone at a table of cold food, calling him over and over. Sometimes a woman's voice would answer in the background. He had a private lounge at the family's club, and there was never a shortage of company. My best friend Vincent couldn't understand it. "Is it worth it? He doesn't love you anymore." I just smiled. "He gave me my life. I know he still loves me." Then Vincent forwarded me an encrypted video. A girl in a hospital gown sat on a hospital bed. At the edge of the frame, a hand with sharp-knuckled fingers reached into the shot, a hand wearing the family crest watch. Their fingers were intertwined. The caption read: [My hero promised to marry me once I'm better!! yay!!] I stared at the screen for a long time. That watch. I knew it cold. It was the one I'd fastened it onto his wrist myself more times than I could count, and there was no way I was wrong.

I was just picking up my spoon when he told me our marriage registration would be delayed again. "Let's do it next time," Ethan said as he put down his cutlery. His tone was as casual as if he were commenting on the pleasant weather. I took a sip of my food, chewed slowly, and swallowed. "Okay." He glanced at me, picked up his fork, and then looked at me again. "You're not angry?" I continued eating, my voice entirely flat. "No, I'm not." Our wedding ceremony had been held six months ago, but this was the seventeenth time he had postponed getting our marriage certificate. He was used to doing this. And I was used to accepting it. I finished my meal bite by bite. He didn't touch his food again. When I stood up to clear the table, he caught my wrist. "Summer, next Monday. I'll definitely be free next week," Ethan promised. "We already had our wedding anyway, a few days won't make a difference. Don't worry, I won't break my promise this time." I looked down at his hand, then looked up at him with a faint smile. "Okay." Over the past six months, he had said "next week" nine times, "definitely" thirteen times, and "don't worry" sixteen times. Yet, we still hadn't registered our marriage. And next week, it wouldn't happen either. Because this time, I would be the one breaking the promise.