Love Next Door Plot Novels & Stories

Getting rid of Mina, Fred's wife, after five years of her problematic self, he finally felt relieved. He needed a new wife so he got married to Jayda on the contract that she was going to be given 1.5 billion dollars. Fred and Jayda had shared a strong bond a few years back after an accidental 'one night stand'.Trying to balance their relationship seemed to be a problem as both of them were too enclosed in the fear of revealing their pasts and problems, with Jayda being so cold…READ ON TO DIVE INTO THE LOVE STORY OF JAYDA AND FRED AS THINGS UNFOLD BETWEEN THEM.

What happens when you have no idea that you are a reincarnation of a teenager like you in the past who was hunted and possessed by a demon and now it comes for you too?. In her dream.... Liyla opened her eyes and behold a pair of red cracked eyes staring at her closely, she screamed at the top of her voice untill her voice hitched. The demon said "i would make you indestructible, powerful, everyone who hurts you would pay with their life, just let me in." Liyla a super smart kid with great love for her passion in education. Growing up she stands out amongst her peers but didn't have that comfortable life because her parents only work as peasants, that wasn't a problem for her she just want her family to be complete. Her life took another turn when her parents were killed in an attack from unknown gunmen in the ranch where they work, her life became a conflict, facing criticism from society and in frustration took the wrong part that demanded her soul. As a reincarnation of a girl in the past named Anna who lived in pain and misery, claimed by a demon who dwells in the bridge of time and now Liyla has been marked to suffer thesame fate.

Welcome back!! It's now 18 years later. Kia and all of her friends are now older as they watch their firstborns go off to college. Follow them and their kids on their journey through every obstacle life throws at them.

Eleanor Hale had four years of marriage, four years of quiet accusations, and finally, a daughter she’d waited a lifetime for. She never got to hold her. What she woke up to instead was a stranger’s face in a stranger’s mirror, a debt that wasn’t hers, and a countdown she couldn’t outrun. To survive, she signs her name to a marriage that’s supposed to mean nothing, a convenient arrangement with a man who wants a wife on paper and nothing more. But paper doesn’t stay paper forever. Not when he wakes her from nightmares with his arms already around her. Not when he remembers exactly how she takes her tea. Not when every quiet morning starts to feel less like a transaction and more like something she isn’t ready to lose. Somewhere across the city, the people who ended her old life are grieving her at a funeral she isn’t allowed to attend as herself. They think she’s gone. They think it’s over. She’s just getting started. A story about the body you’re given, the life you steal back, and the terrifying discovery that starting over might mean falling for the one person who isn’t supposed to matter.

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift. A black metal wristband. Cold. Sleek. He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system. The other user was Violet. His "girl bro." The person he was closer to than his own sister. Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough." Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist. So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle. When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered. I threw up blood. While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain. Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared. "Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding." To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place. Their friends couldn't wait to watch. Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her. Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead. Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

My little sister Willa? Always played the noble princess—even during the freaking apocalypse. She was pregnant and still trying to look like some graceful queen. I told her to end it. Safer that way. She slapped me. "Shut up. How can you be so heartless?" Meanwhile, I skipped meals so she and her rescue-pet gang could eat. When I collapsed from hunger, she snorted. "Drama queen. Think of it as a free weight-loss plan." I dragged her to the base, the safe zone, and nearly died doing it. She snatched the last of my rations. "The baby and I are good. Give the rest away." I died from my injuries—frozen, starving, forgotten. Willa? She got crowned a saint. Even landed the baby daddy—the Deputy Governor—and kicked off her perfect little fairytale. Then I woke up. Back to the moment she asked me to swear I'd protect her and the baby. This time, I laughed in her face. "Die for all I care."

He knocked once. She opened the door. Nothing has been the same since. Maya has spent the last two years learning how to breathe again. After surviving a violent relationship that shattered her from the inside out, all she wants is silence. Safety. Control. But when a new tenant moves in next door, her carefully rebuilt life begins to unravel. Elias Graves is tall, quiet, and just out of prison. No past. No apologies. No promises. He doesn’t ask for anything. He just watches. And when Maya leaves her door unlocked one night, he walks in. What begins as a collision of need and heat quickly spirals into something darker, something Maya swore she would never want again. He gives her the pain she craves and the pleasure she hates herself for needing. But secrets live between their bodies, and some doors—once opened—won’t ever close again. This is not a love story. It’s a story about addiction. About survival. About surrendering to a man who might just ruin her… or finally teach her how to survive the fire.

I was six months pregnant when my husband's childhood sweetheart showed up on Christmas Eve, pregnant too, demanding her place in his life. Smiling, I welcomed her in. "Come on in. Make yourself at home." In my previous life, I had forced my husband to kick Shirley out. She collapsed from low blood sugar and froze to death that very Christmas Eve. Matthew did not hold it against me. On the contrary, he softened, stayed by my side and took care of me while I waited to give birth. However, when the baby came, despite being an obstetrician himself, Matthew sent our healthy newborn son straight to the morgue. I begged him desperately, but his face was twisted with hatred. "If you hadn't been so petty and dramatic, Shirley wouldn't have died along with her baby!" "You're heartbroken over your son? Then go freeze to death too. Pay for Shirley’s life with your own life." Just like that, I opened my eyes again, back to the moment Shirley arrived on Christmas Eve.

From as far back as I can remember, I knew my mom hated me. She gives me sleeping pills when I'm three. When I'm five, she tries pesticide instead. But I'm hard to get rid of. By the time I'm seven, I've already learned how to fight back. If she refuses to give me food, I flip the table so no one can eat either. If she beats me up until I'm on the ground, writhing in pain, I go after her beloved son the same way, leaving him bruised and bawling. That's how we stay locked in battle until I turn 12. Everything changes when my youngest sister is born. I'm clumsily trying to help with her wet diaper when Mom suddenly shoves me against the wall. The look in her eyes holds both disgust and fear. "What were you trying to do to my daughter? I knew it. You take after that monster of a father. Why didn't you just die with him?" I hold my aching head. For the first time, I don't fight back. I believe she's right. My existence is a mistake. I should never have been alive.

It was New Year's Eve. We were streaming live when my brother called. I spoke first, "I wish you peace and a happy, long life." He gave a cold laugh. "Yeah, well, I don't want you to have any of that. I hope you spend the rest of your life in misery." I'd cut him off the year he was flat broke. Now that he was successful, this was the first thing he did—get back at me. I kept my tone calm. "I wish you peace and a happy, long life." He sounded annoyed. "Cut it out. There's no way I'm wishing you well. If I have to say something, then I hope you stay miserable forever." The host hesitated, then chimed in, "Ben, that was just a recording of Hailey's message. And yes, when she left… she was in a lot of pain and quite miserable, just like you hoped for."