Left Behind Novels & Stories

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

My husband was working over the holidays, again. He’d been sent out of town to oversee one of the Family’s dock operations and a string of gambling houses.. I decided to buy a ticket and surprise him. Only business class was left. Staring at the five-figure price, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of savings. Then I couldn’t even figure out how to pull down the damn tray table. The socialite seated next to me let out a cold laugh. “Never flown business class before?” I forced an awkward smile. “My apologies. You must be… important. You have that aura.” “Oh, me? No. The man who keeps me is important. He’d charter a private jet if I asked. Business class is practically slumming it.” I blinked. “A… keeper? That’s rare.” “Not really. I’m his secretary. I mess up a lot. Cost him a fortune. He yells at me until I cry. And then, well… crying leads to other things.” She winked. “You know how it is.” “Funny,” I said, my voice tight. “My husband has an assistant who helps him manage accounts for the docks. She’s always messing things up too.” “You’re married?” She looked me over, head to toe. “My man has a wife about your age. Says he’s sick of her. That touching her is boring. Says I’m more exciting just brushing my hair out of my face.” She leaned closer. “I told him I wanted to see him for New Year’s. So he told the wife he had to work.” The diamond on her finger caught the light. It was identical to the wedding band I’d lost. My body went cold. No. Matteo was just a low-level enforcer. A foot soldier the Family occasionally trusted with small operations—dock shipments, backroom gambling, nothing more. When did he become a Don?

The day my fated mate Cole stood at the altar for the ceremony with his childhood sweetheart Kate, I was in the crowd, clapping my hands. Everyone assumed I had lost my mind over an unrequited love. Cole must have thought so too. He hurried over to me, seized my wrist tightly, and snarled a threatening warning: "This is Kate's greatest wish, the only thing she's ever asked for. She's fragile. Who knows how long she has left." "You wouldn't want her to die with that one regret, would you?" I gave a cold smile and took a sip of my champagne. "Of course not." In my last life, I had watched Kate taunt me from Cole's arms and I had screamed that she wasn't sick at all, that she was lying. I had torn the ceremony apart and forced Cole to stop it. Kate couldn't bear the humiliation. She ran out sobbing and was killed in a car accident. After that, Cole fabricated a charge of treason against my pack to avenge her. My parents were imprisoned by the Alliance and starved to death over ten days. I was exiled, became a rogue, and eventually died — cornered and torn apart by a pack of rogues, full of rage I would never be able to spend. This time around, I would give him exactly what he wanted. Every time he betrayed me, I would reclaim one privilege I had given his pack. Three betrayals. Three privileges. And then he would have nothing left.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."

I was the Luna who gave everything to her Alpha—my heart, my loyalty, my dignity. Ethan repaid me by sleeping with other she-wolves, over and over again, and every night our mate bond slowly poisoned what was left of my soul. On our third wedding anniversary, when he suggested I could "try" sleeping with someone else too, I finally broke. My childhood friend, a young Alpha, called me when he heard the news and proposed to me over the phone. His gentle voice healed every wound Ethan had carved into me, so I said yes. Now I've decided to give Ethan moonbreak herb and sever our bond forever. But Ethan never bothered to ask what I gave him to drink. He was too busy running off to his favorite she-wolf's bed. He has no idea that in thirty days, when the moon breaks, our mate bond will shatter completely, and the "chains" that bound us as fated mates will be gone. This time, I'm really leaving.

Emma Carson thought the hardest thing she would ever do was survive her marriage. But she was wrong. The hardest thing was leaving it. For two years, she loved a husband who barely noticed she existed. While Liam Carson built his Empire, Emma became part of the background of his life. Overlooked, unwanted, and carrying a secret that would change everything, she finally walks away with nothing but her dignity and a one-way ticket to Paris. She expects to start over... She does not expect to give birth to triplets. Eighteen months later... Bellamy Inc is worth millions, her three children are the center of her world, and Emma is the anonymous CEO behind one of Europe's fastest-rising companies. No one knows who she is. Until Liam Carson books a meeting with Bellamy Inc. And for the first time since she left him, Emma steps into the same room as the man who never truly saw her. But Liam is no longer looking at the woman he forgot... he is looking at the woman everyone else is fighting to impress. What happens when a husband who never valued his wife discovers she was the greatest thing he ever lost? And what happens when three children with his eyes and their mother's stubborn streak become impossible to ignore? A powerful story of heartbreak, revenge, redemption, unexpected motherhood, and a second chance at the love that should never have been taken for granted. Some women get even... Emma Carson got everything.

Growing up, my mother always told me — choose your fated mate. Otherwise, you'll end up betrayed. But I was convinced Lennox was different. After all, he was willing to give up his position as Alpha for me. So I gave up my own fated mate for him. I even nearly died saving his life, and the injuries left my wolf permanently dormant. But barely two years later, rumors about him and an Omega named Alice were everywhere. And because my wolf was dormant, I couldn't sense a thing. I didn't find out he'd broken our vows until Alice showed up at my door with a pregnancy test. The whole Stonebrook Pack was laughing behind my back. Lennox dropped to his knees, eyes red and swollen. "I'm sorry. I was drunk that night. I'll make her end the pregnancy. I swear." I looked down at our one-year-old son in my arms. I nodded and forgave him — that one time. After that, he behaved. He was attentive, affectionate, doting — until one day, five years later, when I was at the gym. A young woman on the machine beside me was whining. "Everything down there gets so loose after having a baby. I really need to tighten things up." I didn't bother looking at her face. I let out a quiet laugh and started to leave. Then her phone rang. She answered, her voice coy and flirtatious. "So, Alpha Lennox — when are you finally going to end things with that woman? She's old, and she's lost her wolf. Can she even satisfy you?" "Of course not. I miss you so much, baby." I froze mid-step at the sound of his voice.

Elena's world crumbles when she finds out her husband, Alex, has been cheating on her. After confronting him, he doesn't show regret; rather he demands for a divorce and she walks away for good, giving up her marriage and the career she carefully built. To move on, she strikes an unexpected deal: a contract marriage with Max, who turns out to be Alex's past rival. But just as Elena begins to rebuild her life, Alex realizes what he lost—and wants her back. But Elena isn't the same woman he once knew and she is not alone anymore.

I went to try on my wedding gown with Lorenzo—my fiancé, the Don of the Morretti family. My younger sister, Serafina, begged to come along. I stepped out from behind the velvet curtain. There she was, pinning a brooch to his lapel. I opened my mouth to say, “Let me do that,” but the photographer had already turned to her with a grin. “Newlyweds, look this way.” They both turned. The camera clicked twice, and the photographer brushed past me. Ninety-nine shots. Every single one of Serafina and Lorenzo. Not one of me—the actual bride. I stood there, hollow. When we were children, they always played bride and groom. I clapped on cue. When we grew up, they sat at the head of family councils; I made their coffee and kept the kitchen running. “Vittoria, hand me the veil.” Lorenzo saw I hadn’t moved, walked over, and gently pulled the tulle from my stiff fingers. “Why are you standing there like that? Go check the seating chart with the butler. I’ll join you after we finish Serafina’s shots.” The photographer lifted one eye from behind his camera. “Miss Vittoria, would you step back a little? You’re blocking the light.” I stepped all the way back to the heavy drapes by the window. And right there, it hit me—how absurd this all was. If this political marriage didn’t actually need me, then I didn’t need to show up for it either.