Novel & Cerita Ignore Her When She Pulls Away

He took everything from me. My home. My heart. My daughter. I was twenty four years old, lying in a hospital bed, holding my newborn girl for the first time, when Rane Blackwood walked in with divorce papers and a court order. He said I was unfit. He said I was poor. He said I had nothing to offer his child. And because I had no money, no lawyer, and no one to fight for me, I signed. I told myself it was temporary. I told myself I would come back for her. I kept that promise. Six years later, I am not the broken girl he left behind. I rebuilt from nothing. I worked, I sacrificed, I planned. And when his six shareholders quietly sold their stakes one by one, I was the one buying. By the time Rane Blackwood figured out what was happening, I already owned sixty percent of his company. He does not know it is me. Not yet. I have a new life, a new love, and a daughter I have never stopped thinking about. But my daughter does not know I am her mother. His wife, the woman who was once my best friend, has made sure of that. She has poisoned my child's heart against a woman she does not even know is standing right in front of her. Now Rane is chasing me. Begging. Promising. Suffering. Good. Let him. Some debts are not paid in money. Some are paid in regret.

After a young she wolf with dreams to ensure coexistence between humans and werewolves gets a job to work as a secretary in a Manhattan bank firm, she falls madly in love with her billionaire boss who turns out to be part of a legendary family of hunters but now she would have to find a way to convince him in order for her dreams to come true without losing the love of her life.

Abby is a girl quiet, hard-working and middle-class, she worked daily in a restaurant, she lives alone in a small apartment in the east of the city of Bello Norte... who would go to think that she least a great responsibility ahead?

"What does she have that I don't possess?" Arla questioned sarcastically. "As far as I know, I'm better in bed than her. Do you want to find out?" "Don't test my patience," Liam warned, his voice firm and unyielding. Unfazed, Arla continued her seductive advances, pulling off the first layer of her nightwear as she walked towards him. "Don't you want me?" she asked, her voice dripping with temptation. "Say you want me." Liam, unable to resist her allure, pulled her onto the bed and laid on top of her. "Touch me," she purred "I'm all yours." Arla, the notoriously rebellious youngest daughter of the famous billionaire Williams, was born into a complex family dynamic. With four daughters from different mothers, the Williams household was no stranger to drama and tension. After causing yet another scandal, Arla's father had had enough and decided to marry her off to Liam, a ruthless mafia leader. Unbeknownst to Arla, Liam's world was filled with numerous mistresses, each vying for his attention and favor. However, Liam's heart truly belonged to only one woman: Vivian, his childhood love. Amidst the chaos and passion that swirled within the mansion, Arla found herself under the watchful eye of Liam's cunning and ruthless stepmother, who controlled and manipulated the mistresses with an iron fist. Unwilling to be tamed, Arla's arrival in the mansion would shake the foundations of Liam's dynasty. As she navigated the tangled web of secrets, deceit, and desire, Arla refused to bow to the will of those who sought to control her. With her fierce spirit and unyielding determination, she would leave an indelible mark on the hearts and lives of those who dared cross her path.

Avery Tate was forced to marry a bigshot by her stepmother as her father's company was on the verge of bankruptcy. There was a catch, the bigshot—Elliot Foster—was in a state of coma. In the public’s eye, it was only a matter of time until she was deemed a widow and be kicked out of the family.A twist of event happened when Elliot unexpectedly woke up from his coma.Fuming at his marriage situation, he lashed out on Avery and threatened to kill their babies if they had any. “I’ll kill them with my very hands!” he bawled.Four years had passed when Avery returned to her homeland with her fraternal twins—a boy and a girl.As she pointed at Elliot’s face on a TV screen, she reminded her babies, “Stay far away from this man, he’s sworn to kill you both.” That night, Elliot’s computer was hacked and he was challenged—by one of the twins—to kill them. “Come and get me, *sshole!”

“It’s her I want”. Aurelius, the ruthless alpha of the Crescent Pack was pointing directly at me. His eyes, piercing and intense, locked onto mine in a challenging manner. Seraphine Everhart’s family had been massacred when she was barely six years during a pack war between her pack and the Nightshade Pack. Aurelius Vortigen, the alpha of the most ancient and feared Crescent Pack is cold, cruel and didn’t have a problem living up to his title as the ‘Ferocious Alpha’ even when Seraphine waltzed into his life. Seraphine who was lucky to survive and work as a slave in the Nightshade Pack had everything she needed, a decent boyfriend, a woman that loved her like a daughter and amazing friends but when the alpha plans to form an alliance with the Crescent Pack, everything she had spent 15 years building came crashing down from the storm of Aurelius’ presence. She hated him from their first meeting and when he selected her as a gift, she rejected him as her mate. He also didn’t want her, but he didn’t want to let her go. Suspending on an empty space, that was how he kept her, a pawn in a game she never wanted to play. “I, Seraphine Everhart, reject you as my mate”, my voice was firm and loud. Enough for Aurelius to hear, but not quite enough for him to take me seriously. He let out a cold laugh that made me flinch in fear. Then he finally said, “I, Aurelius Vortigen, alpha of the Crescent Pack, do not accept your rejection.” “Don’t you get it love, you’re mine and you can’t let go of me that easily”. On saying that, he grabbed my chin firmly and smashed his lip against mine.

To save my father-in-law, I donated a kidney—but on the very day I was discharged, she didn't hesitate for a second to shove me into the guest room. "Those centipede-like scars are disgusting. Don't show yourself to me again!" In the dead of night, my wound tore open. I collapsed into a pool of blood, dialing her number 100 times, desperate for help. She hung up every single time. Meanwhile, the master bedroom echoed with Theo Reynold's low, passionate growls. In that instant, every ounce of strength drained from me. When I was admitted to the hospital, I held the military medal my mother had left me on her deathbed. That was when I remembered the woman even the mayor bowed to when she walked into a room. Without thinking, I dialed the long-forgotten number. "Commander Jennings, you once said you owed my mother a debt of gratitude. Now… I want you to marry me."

A witch alone in a cursed house should know better than to answer voices in the dark. Hidden deep within the Blackwood forest, Eleanor lives behind ancient wards with her feared husband—a dangerously powerful man whispered about in frightened prayers and old legends. Though ruthless to the world, he has only ever been gentle with her. Before leaving on one of his mysterious journeys, he gives her a single warning: Do not open the door after sundown. But when Eleanor hears her dead mother crying outside in the storm, she breaks the wards protecting their home—and invites something ancient inside. Now the house groans with restless spirits, shadows move without light, and something inhuman stalks the halls at night whispering her name. As the darkness tightens around her throat, Eleanor realizes the creatures hunting her are not the most terrifying thing in Blackwood. Because her husband is coming home. And the man who would burn kingdoms for his wife has discovered something touched what belongs to him.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

"Please… stop pushing. I can't move." The concert crowd was packed and restless, bodies pressed tightly together. I found myself too close to the girl in front of me. She wore a short skirt that brushed against me every time the crowd surged. What caught my attention was how close we were: the faint warmth of her body through the thin fabric made my pulse quicken. For a brief moment, I thought I felt her react too, as if she sensed the same strange tension hanging between us.