Im Sorry Jon

       Hello everyone, sorry for the inconveniences, this book is currently under the process of editing and will be on hold till 25th-26th of the Month DECEMBER with regular updates. Thank you so much for understanding, please don't read it yet, wait until 25th-26th of OCTOBER. Thank You! Rava Wolf is a fourteen years old girl, abandoned, woofless and slaved by the rogues. She was just an unknown powerless Omega with no root, no background or neither can she recall where she came from and hoped she could be free. All Rava ever desired was to live a peaceful life, get bonded by her one true mate, get married, have children and live happily ever after. However, to her dismay it became impossible, when she discovers she was fated to the worst Alphas on the planet who will stop at nothing to make her life a living hell.

ADRIAN'S POV My head was pounding, a dull throb that echoed the frantic beat of my heart. I was hot, too hot, my skin slick with an unfamiliar sweat. I knew it instantly: drugged. One moment I was escorting Aria, basking in the glittering lights and dancing with her in the ballroom at her birthday party. Next, a wine from a waiter, a trip to the bathroom, and then… darkness. I blinked, trying to focus on the blur above me. Damien. My stalker. The man who’d been haunting the edges of my life for weeks, whispering cryptic claims of a shared past I couldn’t recall. He was on top of me, pinning me to the plush velvet of some unfamiliar bed. His eyes, usually so intense and unsettling, were filled with a disturbing mix of guilt and desperation. "I’m sorry, Adrian, I'm so sorry I had to do this, but I can't stand seeing you with her. Watching you rewrite our history... please, remember me. Remember us." He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "I promise, I'll cherish you this time." Then, his lips crashed onto mine, a fierce, possessive kiss that stole my breath away. His hands moved over me, desperate and knowing, igniting a fire that both terrified and strangely thrilled me. Maybe it was the drug blurring the lines of reason. Or maybe… just maybe, deep down, my body recognized something my mind couldn’t. It responded to his touch with a shameful eagerness, a desperate need that mirrored his own. All I could do was surrender to the moment, to the heat, to the undeniable connection I felt with this man, Damien, as I returned his kiss with a fervor that shocked us both.

Liliana Patrick, a twenty three years old timid and clumsy lady who lost everything in a blink of an eye. Suffer was an understatement in her case, she had nothing, no shelter, no friends, no family. But when she steps her leg in to Kings Company, she was introduced to another world she never knew about. Nicholas King, an example of rude and arrogant, cold, dominant, commanding and heartless. The thirty years took over his late father's property after he passed away, he shows no mercy to his workers, he can fire you with just a little mistake. But when his eyes roam her body as she walks into his office, he claimed her as his. I took a seat in front of him. "Good morning Sir-" I greeted but he cuts me off. "Did I ask you to seat?" His voice, so raspy, so deep, so sensual, so husky and so......British? I never knew the Kings were British. But what took my attention were those words he said. "Uhh....." I stood up immediately. "I'm sorry" I apologize but he looks angry or something. "You came sixteen minutes late, left my door opened, sat on the chair like you own the place" he snarled at me..... okay, Mr rude. "I.....I said I was sorry" I look away from him, he shuffle and his cologne filled my nostrils, sandalwood and lavender oil. "You are not to talk back till I ask you to. Sit" he ordered and I did. He grabs what looks like my resumè, he looks at me in an instant. His blue orbs holds no emotions in his eyes as he stares at me, but what was so intriguing was the fact that he's intimidating me really bad.

"Your right I did all those things to you but, all I'm trying to do is protect you!" I screamed. Melody looked puzzled. I could tell that I was even a little bit confused by my own words. Protect her? Protect her from what? She was fine at her home, she hadn't had a great life but the guys dead now. So truly what am I protecting her from? "Protect me? The one thing I really need protection from right now is you! You have no right to say that to me, you're the reason I need protecting at this point!" Melody shouted. She wasn't wrong, I am the one she needs protection from. "That's what I said, yes you're right you do need to be protected from me. But you have no idea what kinda world that you now live in Melody! Mafias..." I started. "I do now! Oh thanks for that by the way! I was perfectly fine living my life not knowing what was happening around me. I didn't ask for any of this Liam. And now thanks to you I am!" "I know that Melody..." "Do you really know Liam?" "I wasn't done talking Melody! Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't realize I was speaking to royalty! I'm done with this conversation! Like I said I'm not telling you anything so leave me the hell alone!"

"Have you forgotten our agreement? Or do you want me to remind you?" "You're not allowed to talk to any other man till you conceive my child Vanessa. I don't want to see you with my brother." "I'm sorry sir." I whispered softly, I felt so uncomfortable with the way his eyes were fixed on me, on my body. This towel is going to slip off any moment now, I thought, as I tried to back away from him. But he grabbed my arm tightly, pulling me closer to him. "I'll make sure you remember our agreement, Vanessa. And I always get what I want, you're mine alone." he said, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. ****

On our wedding day, Jon Zeller flies to an island for a trip with his childhood sweetheart. I'm greeting our friends and family when I receive a notification to pay for their bills at an expensive hotel. When everyone doubts the authenticity of our relationship and mocks me, all Jon says is, "A wedding is just for show. You can handle it yourself." He hangs up without another word. My father is so enraged that he ends up in the hospital after getting a heart attack, and I'm in desperate need of money for his surgery. Yet Jon uses the money to pay for a romantic fireworks show for his childhood sweetheart. When my father wakes up, I tell him I'll marry the man he's picked for me.

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker in the hopes that he would collect my body. That way, I could die and be buried. I would like to finally be at peace, even if it meant that I could only achieve it after death. I packed up my bags and left home in search of a place to die, only to receive a message from my undertaker. [Sorry, something came up. I can’t come now.] …Excuse me? I’m already half-dead, and you’re blowing me off?

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

[MATURE CONTENT] Warning: Skip of you are not a fan of mature romance. Faced with a choice between blaming my stepfather Jason or stepbrother Ethan for the life growing inside me, I felt the weight of Jason's ominous threats—stay silent or risk my mom's life. “Chelsea,who is responsible for this pregnancy?” my Mom asked. I stood there, tears welling in my eyes, torn between the truth and the suffocating weight of shame. "Mom, I'm really sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking, as tears streamed down my cheeks. Unable to endure the guilt, I ran away from home, leaving my mother to search for me, only to tragically meet with an accident in her pursuit. HAPPY READING

They say memories stored in our brain could be sometimes forgotten, but then the heart does not forget. Because our heart always remember, the heart recognizes our beloved when our brain couldn't. Years after they lost contact with each other, Zhanaia encountered Dion again on the same place where they met. And funny how destiny works, they met again just like how they first met, accidentally bumping with each other. Zhanaia's heart was filled with joy, she couldn't contain her happiness and jumped to hug Dion, not wanting to let him go again. But all the hope in her shattered when Dion pulled away from her embrace and asked her, "I'm sorry, miss, but... who are you?"