Keep Holding On Lyrics Novels & Stories

Elena found out her husband was cheating—not from him, but from the headlines. The man didn't even have the decency to keep it in his pants or out of the press. He made her a public joke, expecting her to just sit there and take it. Bad move. Elena didn’t cry. She got busy. She put his mistress in a jumpsuit, took every dime of his money, and handed him the divorce papers with a smile. She was done. Like, officially done with men and their drama. But then, something weird happened. The second she stopped caring, everyone else started obsessing. Now, she’s literally the most wanted woman in the city. We’re talking billionaire heirs, hot surgeons, mysterious bad boys, and even international superstars—all of them tripping over themselves to get her attention. Some have been crushing on her for years, while others are just now realizing what they missed out on. They’re all begging for a chance, but Elena’s not playing the supportive wife anymore. She’s the one holding the remote now, and she’s picky as hell.

Running away is easy. For Dyanne Collins, it's by far the easiest thing to do—perhaps even instinctive, but running from her problems can only get her so far. After her father passed away, she left everything behind, and now, ten years later, she is back where it all began Working directly for Alexander Morgan, the man she had been in love with before she abruptly ended things and moved away. Dyanne's plan: 1) Work in Morgan's company for two more years, 2) Pay off her debt and run away again, 3) and for no reason, fall for her ex-lover, Alexander Morgan. If she could do it back then, she could again. How long, though, can she run? How long until she faces all that has been holding her back? How long can she keep the secrets and questions of her past from coming back to haunt her? “It's going to be nothing serious, I can do it,”, but sometimes serious can sneak up on you in ways you never expected.

On the day of my wedding, my fiance suddenly announced that he had already registered his marriage with my sister. The system declared my mission a failure and sentenced me to be erased in a car crash. Just as despair closed in, Wayne Kinsey threw himself in front of me to save my life—and lost the use of his legs because of it. Later, I was given another chance to choose a new target, and I accepted his proposal. But five years into our marriage, I overheard a conversation between him and a friend. "Wayne, your crush already has a husband and children. Your legs are healed too. Aren't you going to come clean with Arden?" "No. Arden will always be a risk. Only if she keeps feeling guilty will she stay away and let Naomi have her happiness." As his familiar but cold voice echoed in my ears, my tears fell like beads of a broken string, and that was when I finally realized the so-called salvation Wayne had given me had been nothing but a lie through and through. In that case, there was no reason for me to keep holding on to this sham of a marriage.

Eight years after I broke up with Greyson Tromp, we met in the hospital. He brought his wife for a prenatal checkup and happened to have their consultation with me. I wore a mask and carefully examined the condition of her baby. The intern beside us asked how they ended up together. Elise Jacob said smugly, "You have to fight for a handsome guy. To get the best, you have to fight for it! He used to like someone else. To win his heart, I stirred up trouble between them, causing them to misunderstand each other and gradually drift apart. "Later, they had a really bad argument, and I hid the apology letter he asked me to pass on to that woman. I still keep it as our token of love. That woman was pregnant at the time, and I used every means to get rid of her baby!" After they left, I removed my mask. My hands instinctively rested on my stomach. There was an ugly scar beneath my clothes. It was from when Greyson forced me to abort our baby. A few days later, Greyson came kneeling before me, holding that apology letter and a divorce agreement.

I wasn't supposed to fall in love. My job was simple, spy on him, and help break Capo Enzo Valenti but now, I'm the one breaking. He kisses me like he owns me, f*cks me like I’m the only thing holding him together, and I let him. Every.Single.Time. Because somewhere between the lies and the orgasms? The lines blurred and my loyalties conflicted. My name is Alessandra, and I’m holding a knife to my husband’s back while begging him to f*ck me like I still belong to him. . . 🦋 When Alessandra Romano's sister angers the next Capo dei Capi Enzo Valenti, he picks her to replace Sofia. However, she has secrets, secrets that would make Enzo bury her. But, what happens when Alessandra finds out she's not the only one holding secrets in their marriage? Can a love built on lies survive the truth, or will they destroy each other the moment the masks come off?

Everything in Amelia Hart’s life came crashing down the day her father’s company went bankrupt. Left with piles of debt, a sick younger brother, and no clear way out, she walked into the office of the cold, ruthless billionaire CEO she worked for—Lucas Stone—with nothing to lose and a desperate plea in her eyes. Except… “I have a proposition,” Lucas said, his voice cold and commanding. He slid a document across the table. “A contract marriage. Six months. You get the money to save your family. I get what I want.” His gaze dropped to her trembling fingers. “You’re just my assistant, Amelia. Don’t think for a second this makes you worthy.” “But still, Mr. Stone,” I replied, holding back my tears. “I’ll marry you, and I’ll keep to your terms.” His cruel smile widened. “You just signed your soul away, Miss Hart.” But what neither of them expected… was the night that changed everything. And the test that came back positive. She’s pregnant… for her boss.

I am reborn with memories of my past life. And I carry a secret with me: my fiance, Ethan Larsen, had forged our marriage certificate. The one he had actually married was Serena Gray. But I do not expose his lie. Instead, I quietly submit my application to Greenvale University and eventually become a permanent resident in Verenza. In my past life, I spent a lifetime believing in a lie. I thought I was his wife, until I learned the truth on the day he died. He married Serena out of love but kept me only due to his sense of duty. On the funeral day, Serena arrived dressed in white, holding the actual marriage certificate in her hand. She effortlessly took over all his inheritance, while I was thrown out of the house, penniless, with nothing left but a trampled heart. In this life, I will no longer beg for love nor stay put out of pity. I'll leave quietly and live freely. They can keep acting out their so-called "perfect" love story. Because now, I can see it crystal clear—some women are born to be loved, while others are reborn so they don't have to wait to be loved.

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

My husband's childhood sweetheart is gravely ill. She says her only wish is to die in his arms. So, she boldly moves into our marital home. I demand an explanation for this, but my husband only snaps at me. "Why are you holding this against her when she already has one foot in the grave? Can't you be more magnanimous?" I sneer at that. Half a month later, the paparazzi catch me coming and going from Novak Group's heir's villa. My husband demands an explanation with bloodshot eyes. I imitate his previous response. "Why are you holding this against him? Can't you be more magnanimous?"