Novel & Cerita I Never Meant To Hurt You

When my parents call to tell me they are taking me to my childhood friend, Oliver Holland's house to meet his blind date, he is still asleep beside me. I think they are joking and whisper, "Oliver, they said they've found you someone to date." He gives a lazy hum and pulls me into his arms. "Gerry, help me pick out something to wear later. And fix my hair, too." When I freeze, Oliver opens his eyes and lets out a short, mocking laugh. "What's wrong with you? We're just sleeping together. You don't actually think I'm going to marry you, do you?"

"I hate you!" Allison spat, her teeth grinding against each other loudly in anger. "You do?" Dante asked, grinning wolfishly. His gold eyes glinted in amusement. Darting his tongue, he licked his canines as he eyed her plump parted lips. "How about we find out how much?" And before she could blink, he smashed his lips against hers. **** When the Lycan King comes to visit Allison's pack, the last thing she expected was to find out he was her mate. Heck, the last thing she wanted was a mate. With the murder of her parents on her mind and running her pack as a Beta, Allison has no need and no taste for the Lycan King nor his terrible reputation as a womanizer. How long though can she resist his charms or the pull of the mate bond? And with her parents murderers lurking in the shadows, how far will she go for her revenge?

My boyfriend was a therapist. On the day I got diagnosed with ALS, he was busy celebrating his friend's birthday. He said, "Sophie's got depression. Without me, she could break down, hurt herself, or do worse things." To look after her, he broke up with me and moved into her place. I blocked him on everything, agreeing we'd go our separate ways. Strangely, he lost his nuts when he found out I was dying.

My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on. She needed a transplant. Fast. But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead. That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope. That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time. All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her." Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way. And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.

"You have no house to go to, no money, no friends and no child to drain me of child support. Don't be stubborn. You know you'll die without me, I'm your only family left." Once again that proud tone was sneered at me. "I worry for you." Devon’s eyes glimmered waiting for me to go on my knees and beg him. I shake my head. "Worry about yourself Devon. Do you really think you'd go scott free after the shit you pulled today? You couldn't even let me mourn my baby in peace." I searched for his gaze, my eyes burrowing into his. "I promise you, if not today, one-day Devon. I'll make you wish you were dead." ____ Corrie North gave Devon Remington everything. Amazing sex? She gave him her body. A devoted house-wife? She abandoned her career for him. A fucking maid? She scrubbed every inch of his sprawling mansion. A child? She nearly died bringing their son, Haven, into the world. And how did he repay her? Devon betrayed her. He cheated with a younger woman, handed her divorce papers, and vanished on the day their son died in a mysterious accident. Two months later, he finally showed up to Haven's funeral, with his pregnant mistress on his arm. As if that wasn’t enough, he accused Corrie of murdering their child. Devastated, Corrie vowed revenge. She vanished from Devon’s life, promising that everyone who played a part in Haven’s death would pay, including him. Four years later, Devon wants her back. He’ll do anything to make her his again. But Corrie isn’t the same woman he left behind. Will she make him pay for his betrayal , or will old flames pull her back into the arms of the man who destroyed her?

Ophelia loved Dylan, the Alpha of the pack, with all her heart—but to him, she was merely a plaything, a lowly maid unworthy of his regard. His destined bride was Caroline, the noble-born Beta's daughter. When forced to send one of the two women to a rival pack in exchange for a life-saving antidote... who would he choose?

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

She took her twin’s place to survive. But falling in love with the man meant to ruin her was never part of the plan. When Layla Ross steps into the shoes of her missing twin, she’s thrust into a marriage with Dominic Foster the dangerously powerful man who married her sister for revenge. But nothing is as it seems. Unknowingly poisoned by Layla herself under her father’s manipulation, Dominic’s life ticks on a secret clock. Layla, a woman with fifteen elite identities and a heart she swore to keep frozen, must find the cure she couldn’t create herself. Love wasn’t supposed to bloom. Secrets weren’t supposed to unravel. But in a city of lies, identity swaps, and deadly desires, one truth could shatter everything. How do you love the man you were sent to destroy… and who might destroy you first?

Samir Kane was the man of my dreams, the man I’ve always wanted. So imagine my joy when he walked into my favorite cafe, went down on one knee, and brought a ring up to my face. I was beyond elated of course. I mean it was a dream come true. Little did I know that it was also going to be my nightmare disguised as a dream. Samir not only roped me into a marriage with him for selfish reasons. However, I’ve yearned for his love and acceptance for years, but he treated me with the opposite and disrespect instead. And after he was fed up, he decided to discard me. He decided I’m no longer worth it, that it’s time we part ways, and his thoughtful gift for me on the night of our five years anniversary were divorce documents. How rich? Because that was all it took for me to venture into the brutal side. Watch out Samir, I’m now on the hunt for your wreckage, and there’s no stopping until I’ve brought you exactly where you once had me.

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.