I'll Be Gone Gone Tonight Novels & Stories

When Lily Rosenfelt is eight months pregnant, Zeke Connolly brings home the woman he truly loves—Sophie Cruz, who's also eight months along. To give Sophie and the baby the recognition they deserve, he goes public with a statement saying that he and Lily are already divorced and that he'll be marrying Sophie soon. Thinking Lily is still blind, Zeke tricks her into signing the divorce papers. He even sleeps with Sophie in his own villa. What he doesn't know is that Lily has long regained her sight. When she and Sophie fall down the stairs together and Zeke, without a moment's hesitation, chooses Sophie, something in Lily breaks. She buries her love for him along with their child. It's not until she's truly gone that Zeke starts to panic.

Five years ago, I became the wife of Cesare Fontana, the most powerful mafia don in Navarino. However, he didn't make our relationship public. Cesare has always been cold and unfeeling toward everyone. I assumed that's just the way he is. One day, I get to see the way he interacts with Sonia Moretti, his childhood friend. When I see the bright smile on his face and notice the attentive care he shows her, I finally realize that there is someone in this world whom he treats with gentleness and warmth. Alas, I'm not the lucky woman. I hand over the divorce papers. Cesare remains as impassive as ever. He signs the paperwork without even knowing that it will mark the end of our marriage. When he finally finds out that I've left, weirdly enough, he immediately panics. He does everything in his power to find me and bring me back. By then, I've already left the country. I make my way to a country beyond his reach and carve out a fulfilling life for myself. Cesare becomes the one who pines for me instead.

At a company party, Taylor Kennedy plays a game of mouth-to-mouth cookie biting with his female assistant as everyone watches. I blend into the crowd and laugh along. The room instantly falls silent. The assistant bursts into tears and plays the victim. Taylor lets go of her, turns to me, and coldly scolds me in front of the entire company. He berates me for not knowing how to read the room and being a buzzkill. Then, without hesitation, he wraps his arm around the assistant and kisses her deeply as I watch. If this were before, I would've stormed over in a rage and ripped them apart. Then, I would've humiliated her in front of everyone, not caring whose pride I trampled. But now, I feel nothing. Not even as I watch them kiss. Not even though today marks my ten-year anniversary with Taylor.

I spent six years loving Lucas Salvatore into a marriage that was slowly swallowing me whole. I rearranged my dreams, swallowed my pain, and smiled through every moment that should have broken me sooner. Then I found Renata’s pregnancy test in my guest bathroom and every lie I had been telling myself died in an instant. I did not scream. I did not beg. I signed the divorce papers Lucas never had the courage to hand me himself and left them beside his morning coffee. They thought I would fall apart. Lucas thought I would come back. Renata thought she had won. None of them knew that losing everything was the moment I finally found myself, and the woman I became was someone none of them were prepared for.

Two years ago, as a graduate of Werewolf Medical School, I volunteered to go to the most remote and poorest pack, as it had always been my dream to help werewolf patients in need. I heard from my teacher that the werewolves in the Rogue Pack were the poorest and that their living conditions were the worst. Most of the werewolves there were old and weak, so I volunteered to go to that pack as soon as I graduated. After I arrived, I helped them build an infirmary and even set up a blood station. Every year, I led them in voluntary blood donations. But one time—right after I had taken a short break following a blood donation—they turned on me. They slandered me, calling me a selfish and heartless healer. Worse still, they accused me of faking illness, claiming I was lying comfortably in bed while patients were dying—refusing to lift a finger to save them. Not only that, they stormed into the infirmary, seized all my herbs and equipment, and completely trashed the place I had built for them with my own hands. Recalling the days I had spent day and night healing them—only to see my infirmary destroyed and my dream shattered—I let out a bitter smile. I picked up the phone and called the dean of my home pack. "I'm ready to return," I said. "I want to serve the patients in our own pack." Then, without a trace of regret, I left that place behind. However, after I gave up, the whole pack regretted it and begged me to return.

She was a powerhouse—brilliant, driven, and unstoppable—until the day her world shattered in the delivery room. Told her baby had died at birth, she buried her grief beneath ambition and success, building an empire while silently mourning the child she never got to hold. What she never knew was the truth: her husband had betrayed her in the cruelest way imaginable, fleeing with his mistress and the newborn daughter he claimed was lost. Years later, a business expansion leads her to a quiet, close-knit town far from her high-rise life. There, among tree-lined streets and familiar faces, she meets a commanding, magnetic man whose strength matches her own—but whose integrity and warmth begin to crack the walls around her heart. As their connection deepens, unsettling coincidences surface, pulling her toward a past she was never meant to uncover. The revelation is devastating and undeniable: her daughter is alive, growing up in this very town, raised by the husband who abandoned her and the woman who stole her life. Forced to confront betrayal, buried grief, and a motherhood stolen from her, she must decide how far she’s willing to go for the truth—and for her child. In a town where secrets never stay hidden, she faces a choice between vengeance and forgiveness, between the life she built and the love she never knew she could still claim. This is a story of resilience, second chances, and discovering that sometimes, what was lost can still be found.

My 8-year marriage was a lie—exposed by our daughter’s prescription. I crashed his wedding, only to find him vowing forever to his “true love.”My marriage certificate? Fake. Worthless. He sneered, “You were just practical.”When I tried to take our 6-year-old and run, he pinned me:“You’re mine—don’t even think about leaving.” He misjudged me completely.I rebuilt my power, built an empire…And when he finally uncovered the truth?I was already gone—with a newborn in my arms. Tap for the ultimate “I left him and won” story!

I'm the so-called 'Lady of Glory'—yeah, that girl from the Archbishop's prophecy. They said I'd bring endless glory to whatever Family I married into. But at our engagement party, my fiancé—Marco Falcone—swaggered onstage holding hands with his pregnant stripper girlfriend. Then he grabbed my wrist, dragged me forward, and made me kiss her hand. "Lola's the only woman I'll ever call my wife," he said with a smug little grin. "If you still want this marriage, your De Luca money better support her and the baby." I slapped him. Ripped the contract in half. Let it snow confetti. "Please. I can marry someone a hundred times better." Right when I was about to torch the entire Falcone Family, someone stepped out of the shadows. Marco's older brother, Dante Falcone. The one who'd been injured, underestimated, and pushed aside. He locked eyes with me, totally unfazed. "Signorina De Luca, do your words still stand?"

The day Calista Everhart gets divorced, her divorce papers end up splashed online, becoming hot news in seconds. The reason for divorce was highlighted in red: "Husband impotent, leading to an inability to fulfill wife's essential needs." That very night, her husband, Lucian Northwood, apprehends her in the stairwell. He voice was low as he told her, "Let me prove that I'm not at all impotent …"

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."