Never Be Mine Novels & Stories

She was pregnant when he handed her divorce papers. She didn't tell him. She simply signed, walked away and disappeared completely taking his child and her dignity with her. Three years later Damien Cross finds her rebuilt, thriving and completely unmoved by his return. He comes with regret and explanations. She has one answer for all of it. Too late. But a man who has just discovered he has a son doesn't walk away easily. And Mara is about to learn that the most dangerous version of Damien Cross is the one who finally realises exactly what he lost.

Trapped in a sexless marriage of convenience,Ella endures her husband's public affairs for three years.When pressured to produce an heir,she hires a callboy to fulfill the contract.She discovered he is the powerful businessman her husband and grandfather has been trying to win over,now the man holds the power.

The day after my sister broke up with her mafia boyfriend, she went off on vacation to clear her head. She swore she'd find a man even better than her ex, and she sent me a whole stack of profiles of good-looking guys. She wanted me to help her pick. I was about to tap the screen when Dante snatched the phone away, his brow furrowing as he let out a soft laugh. "You are my Donna! Don't pick up her bad habits." Before I could get a good look, Dante deleted every last photo. I explained, "She's not really like that. She was with that boyfriend for eight years, and he hurt her too deeply." "She kept him like a treasure. Even I never got to meet him." Dante raised an eyebrow and, a little stiffly, told me, "Tomorrow I'm going to Sicily to handle Family business. You be good and stay home." I nodded and agreed, waiting for him to return. My sister happened to get back from her own trip right around the time he did. The moment she walked in, she couldn't wait to tell me how her ex had come back to propose to her. I smiled and congratulated her. But when she took out the engagement ring, my heart skipped a beat. That morning, I'd just happened to find a matching men's wedding ring inside Dante's suit.

My wife doesn't love me. She doesn't love our child either. On the day our son is born, she doesn't even look at him. She just drops him into my arms. Later, her first love returns. For the first time, the cold, distant woman drinks herself drunk at home. She laughs as she holds our son in her arms, and he wraps his arms around her neck in surprise. "Daddy, what's wrong with Ms. Sutton?" he whispers afterward. I kneel and hold him close. My eyes are red as I explain, "Someone Ms. Sutton loves has come back. We shouldn't bother her anymore. It's time for us to move out."

Nathan Hill adopted a very obedient little thing who dares not go west when he tells her to go east. She treats him as her heaven and loves him with all her heart. But he took away one of her kidneys for his first love. A few years later, she achieved greatness and ultimately cross paths with him at the top. He said: I regret letting you leave me! She said: I never regretted leaving you and you can't Win Me Back！

I know I shouldn’t want him. Or them. There’s my best friend’s father, whose low, velvety voice makes my pulse stutter whenever he speaks. My stepbrother, whose accidental touches make my skin burn with unspoken tension. And my sister’s mate, whose cold, lingering gaze betrays a hunger I shouldn’t see. Every glance, every brush of skin, drags me deeper into temptation. Every heartbeat reminds me that wanting them is dangerous, forbidden… and maybe reckless. I’m caught between loyalty, morality, and desire, and every moment I give in only makes the fire stronger. Some lines aren’t meant to be crossed. Some fires are impossible to resist. And I’m learning the hard way… forbidden has never felt this good.

At the reunion, someone asked when I was getting married. Grinning, I pulled out the invites. "Mid-October. Be there." Cheers broke out. Everyone peeked at the girl next to me. "You've been with Daphne forever, right? Finally making it official?" Daphne hurled her drink at me. "Ethan Everett, is this your idea of pressuring me into marriage?" The room froze. I wiped my face, cool as ever, and opened the invite in front of her. "Maybe check the name. It doesn't say you're the bride."

A unique video went viral overnight. In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender. Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride. Within hours, the video topped various trending charts. People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year. Anya Rossi later posted a message. "I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!" The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations. "A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!" "It's like something out of a novel." "So enviable." I went to my boyfriend to confirm. Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study. “Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.” His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?” Ted chuckled, unconcerned. “So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.” At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely. A month later On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man. Our wedding processions met downtown. According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously. That’s when Ted saw me. I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him. But in another man’s arms. After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.

My mother never believed me. To her, I was always just a lying pup. In my pack, every cub wore a Moon Oath Collar. Red meant you lied. White meant you told the truth. My sister’s collar always glowed a soft white. Even when she pretended to be sick to get out of an exam, her collar only gave off that gentle white light. Mine was different. Even when I was truly sick, my collar would burst into a violent red, and the punishment current would follow immediately. On my sister’s birthday, Mother prepared a bonfire feast for the whole pack. Just before they left, a splitting pain tore through my head, and I collapsed on the floor, begging her to help me. For one second, she almost picked me up. Then my collar flashed red. “To ruin your sister’s birthday, you’re even pretending to die? What a vicious child.” Then she walked out with my sister and left me alone on the floor. I died alone on the cold floor. But when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer inside my body. My soul drifted after my mother as I whispered the truth she had never believed. “Mom… I wasn’t lying. I really died.” And when they finally found my body, the red collar on my neck was still flashing.

Amy Lacey and I were sworn enemies—stuck in a marriage neither of us wanted. She blamed me for ruining her last chance with her childhood sweetheart, Bryan Gurley. I hated her for sliding a separation agreement across the table on our wedding night. Seven years together. We both wished the other dead. The day I finally decided to divorce her, our private plane started going down. She grabbed the only parachute and strapped it around my waist. "Isaac Irving, if you die, how are you supposed to pay me back for the years I wasted on you?" The parachute snapped open. Then the explosion hit—and her last words cut through it. "Next life, don't come bother me again." Later, the rescue team pulled her burned body from the wreckage. In her arms was the love token Bryan had given her. That night, divorce papers in hand, I stepped off a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amy ran to the airport to win Bryan back. This time, I let her go without a second thought. In this life, I set her free. From here on out, we'd walk our own roads—owing each other nothing.