Is He Getting Ready To Propose Novels & Stories

“No, this is fraud. You can't take my son away!” Blue shouts, lips trembling and heart hammering wildly as she pins a hard glare on her husband, Asher. “You signed it. He is mine” Asher counters, breaking her already shattered heart. Blue Vorozi has everything, a loving husband, an adorable son and a nice fairytale life until it starts to crack and overtake with bitter reality she never saw coming. Asher Vorozi is caught in a scandal with the wife of his business partner that spreads all over the internet. He throws divorce papers in Blue's face. As though a heartbreak and betrayal isn't enough of a torture, he takes her child away as well. With no one by her side, Blue is helpless. But can a mother's love ever stop her from fighting for her child? Asher might have seen the loving wife. Now he will see the resilient mother, ready to rip those apart that come her way.

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.

For five years, Marco Falcone was the perfect man. Or so I thought. The illusion shattered on the night of our engagement party, when his mistress crashed it, a five-year-old boy in tow. The boy ran straight to Marco, crying, "Daddy! Daddy, I finally found you!" It had to be some kind of sick joke. But then Marco turned to me, his voice stripped of all warmth. "This is my son, Leo. A… mistake Sofia and I made five years ago." "Leo is the Falcone heir. I have to legitimize them. That means I'll be engaged to Sofia first." "But Lydia, believe me, I still love you. We can have our engagement party in six months. You're going to be the Donna of the Falcone family. I expect you to be generous and understanding. This is non-negotiable." I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slid the engagement ring off my finger. My eyes scanned the room and locked on the man in the corner—Lorenzo Moretti, the most powerful Don in New York. He held another title, one only I knew: the man who’d been trying to make me his. "Don Moretti," I called out, my voice clear and steady. "I find myself in need of a new fiancé. Are you interested?"

Three years after Alpha King Damien Caldwell marks me, Drake Whitaker finally remembers I exist. Turns out he really believes I'll "wait for him forever." Twenty black SUVs clog the private road into Ridgefield pack territory, trunks crammed with moonstone jewelry, old talismans, and rare herbs. Drake steps out of the tricked-out Hummer, wearing a smug smile and clutching a stack of parchment contracts. "Aria," he calls up, like some medieval knight, "I told you once the Silvermoon Coalition was official and Kenneth's supply lines were stable, I'd bring you to my pack. "The High Council finalized five packs yesterday. I came first thing this morning to show you I mean it." I sit in the upstairs study, watching a video Damien just sent of him playing with our son, then glance through the blinds at the ridiculous scene unfolding below. Drake lifts his face toward the second floor. "I know you're upset, but Kenneth controls the biggest timber in the Eastvale region. I had to mark Isabella. It was politics. You get that. Feelings don't need a mark anyway. I'll treat you better than a Luna." His words made my skin crawl. I pressed the intercom button on the desk. "Clear the drive. Tell security someone's trespassing." What a day! I've just taken my son to the medical center for his one-month checkup. Damien sends me back to Ridgefield pack for a week to rest. Instead, I get this mess on my doorstep.

At a class reunion, I ended up getting together with my high school crush. However, one evening, as I was scrolling through a social media platform, I was suddenly bombarded with mentions tagging me in a shocking post. The content left me seeing stars. "My girlfriend has a car, a house, a great degree, and she's stunning. Yet, somehow, she's into me! Haha!" "To be honest, she's too exceptional, and it's kind of killing my sense of masculinity. Once I manage to get my hands on her assets, I'll have her give me two kids and then live life on my own terms. She won’t be able to control me then." "You guys can stay jealous. Not like you know her anyway, so what can you even do to me?"

On the night I add my new girlfriend, Celia Spencer, into my group chat with my friends, my college roommate, Kevin Wright, suddenly posts more than a dozen screenshots in the group chat. Those screenshots feature the fragments of daily life I occasionally post on my social media feed. "Now here's where things get confusing. We only earn thousands of dollars per month. Where on earth did you get your money from in order to live such a lavish life? "I've been holding my tongue for far too long. At first, I intended to protect your pride. But now that you're dating such a wonderful, beautiful, and rich woman, I don't have the heart to see her getting lied to." In the end, Kevin tags Celia in the group chat. His words are filled with regret and pain. "Ms. Spencer, you're a rich scion, so you might not know anything about the bottom feeders' tactics. A fake scion like Luke who has racked up a huge online debt and brands his social media feed to look rich is very common in society! You have to keep your eyes open, you know! Take care not to get tricked by scammers!" As I suppress my anger, I respond with, "I never stole nor robbed from others! What's wrong with me spending my own money?" Kevin quickly retaliates with a lengthy audio message. "Your own money, you say? Your net worth isn't enough to afford even one segment of that luxury wristwatch in the photo! Why are you still pretending to be rich?" I just laugh in response. Does Kevin really think that rich people don't wear cheap stuff? What he doesn't know is that Celia, the so-called rich and beautiful woman he's trying so hard to kiss up to, is actually just someone I've hired to play the part. I'm the actual scion here, whereas Celia is just a fake heiress.

Shane Floyd and I have been dating for seven years, and my parents keep pressuring us to get married. However, Shane keeps saying the same two words. "Let's wait." My parents think we aren't financially ready, so they prepare a generous wedding gift for us. They even buy us a car and a house. However, Shane still says the same two words. "Let's wait." I have no idea what Shane is waiting for, but I decide to wait with him. At our class reunion, I bring out a cake I have prepared for Shane. "Today's Shane's 30th birthday." My classmates start gossiping at once. "I just remembered something. Shane Floyd and Amelia Wood made a pact that if they were both still unmarried at 30 years old, they'd get together!" Amelia Wood smiles shyly. "His wife is right here. Let's not bring that up." Shane simply glances at me. "We're not married, so she's not my wife. I promised I'd wait for you until you turned 30 years old. I didn't break my promise." My heart lurches as I hold the cake. Now I finally know what Shane has been waiting for. As the crowd teases him, Shane leans in to blow out the candles and make a wish. "Here goes my first wish. I wish Amelia is still single." That's enough. I gently set the cake down without making a scene. As the crowd exchanges awkward glances, I turn and leave with my dignity intact. Downstairs, a cab driver is calling out to passersby. "Miss, do you need a ride? Are you waiting for anyone else?" I open the door and get in the cab. "Let's go. I'm not waiting for anyone."

Five years after we married, Reuben Slade wants to send me to his superior's bed. The first time, he says, "Lissy, I'll get the project once you have a few drinks with him." The second time, he says, "Sleep with him just once, Lissy. I'll be free of debt once you do." He guarantees it won't happen again, but he goes back on his word. "Maybe you should give him a child, Lissy. He'll promote me to general manager once you do." The day Reuben is promoted to general manager, I divorce him and marry his superior.

I have a secret. If I touch anyone, I will be able to see the face of the person they love the most. Ever since Dominic Hatterson has moved to the house next door when he was seven years old, I'm the one he loves the most. When he holds hands with me as an 18-year-old, I remain the person he loves the most. When he proposes to me at the age of 22, I'm still the person he loves the most. On the morning of our third year anniversary, I tidy his collar for him. The moment my fingertips touch his Adam's apple, I close my eyes out of reflex. Yet, that's when I see two faces. One belongs to me. The other belongs to a woman I've never seen before. That night, Dominic's phone lights up. "Thank you for spending the day with me, Dom." It's been 21 years since Dominic and I met. I've touched him over 100 thousand times already. And yet, this is my first time finding a mistake.

Four years ago, Marcus Blackthorn rejected me at our Dragon bond ceremony. He chose Clara Linwood instead. Her bloodline carried the purity of an ancient dragon clan, and with her at his side, he could secure his claim as Lord Blackthorn. He told me to wait one year, promising that once his position was secure, the title of Lady Blackthorn would eventually be mine. Everyone laughed at me for believing I had ever been anything more than a useful promise. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break, and I left without begging for a place in a future he had already denied me. I left his territory in silence and followed the Dragon Goddess’s sign to my second-chance mate, Caelan Frost. He was the Frost Dragon King, ruler of every dragon clan, and even a Black Dragon lord like Marcus had to bow before him. Four years later, I returned to Blackthorn Keep beside Caelan Frost, the Dragon King. Four years later, I returned to Blackthorn Keep beside Caelan Frost, the Dragon King. At the city gate, Marcus stopped me. He looked at my plain cloak, then threw a servant’s gray livery at my feet. “Stop pretending you have somewhere better to go,” he said. “My household happens to need a nursery maid. Take the work. It is the only future you have left.”