Never Coming Home Mcr Novels & Stories

After dropping the big news of my pregnancy on my husband, Maxwell Ford, who loves me to the moon and back, I expect him to burst into tears out of elation. But I don't expect him to harbor a slightly guilty look. "I'm sorry, Val. I'm still not ready to become a father just yet. Can we only work on having another child after a few more years?" Although I can't bear to part with my unborn baby, I still go through a medical abortion obediently. Three years later, I accidentally witness Maxwell holding another woman's hand as they pick up a little girl from kindergarten. With a wide smile on his face, Maxwell picks up the girl and says, "It's your third birthday today, sweetheart! Why don't I give you the position as the only heiress to my company as your birthday gift?" As I stare at the family of three walking away from me, I feel as though I've been plunged into an icy abyss. It turns out that Maxwell is lying about not being ready to become a father. He just doesn't like the child that I bear…

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.

The day my father slid that contract across the table, I should have walked away. I didn't. Instead, I signed my name next to his: Damien Blackwood. The most feared man in the city. Cold. Ruthless. The kind of man who buys companies for sport and destroys lives before breakfast. I told myself it was survival. That I was signing to save my mother and protect what was left of my family. But Damien Blackwood didn't choose me by accident. He chose me because he knew exactly who I was. Because he had been watching me for three years. Because the secret buried between our families goes deeper and darker than anything I was prepared to find. He says this is a partnership. He says we both want the same thing, to burn our fathers' empires to the ground. He says this is strictly business. But the man who shows up at my mother's hospital without being asked, the man who tucks my hair back in a dark car park and calls at midnight just to hear my voice, the man who kept a seven year old photograph and a handwritten note that says she is the one. That man isn't doing business. And neither am I. We started as enemies. We signed a contract. We were supposed to use each other and walk away. But somewhere between the revenge and the secrets, we forgot to stay on opposite sides. It was never just business. It was never going to be.

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

I was reborn the year the Blood Moon War began. The first thing I did? I sacrificed my child. The child of my blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius of the Covenant. In my last life, he chose to protect his childhood sweetheart, Lilith, when she slept with a werewolf. He stole my pureblood heir and replaced it with her half-breed mongrel. They branded me a traitor. In a sun-scorched dungeon, they burned my scarred body to ash with holy light. And my own son, his mind poisoned by Lilith, stood on my ashes and cursed me to Hell for all eternity. When I opened my eyes again, the blood ritual for my heir was already three months along. I didn't hesitate. I went straight to a witch, and with a potion brewed from my own heart's blood, I ended it. Then, I put on something else: an expensive amulet of Blood Illusion. It faked the energy of a pureblood fetus. It masked my true state, cloaking me in the sweet, alluring scent of a pregnant vampire. It even created a perfect illusion of a growing belly. Lucius needed an heir to cover for Lilith’s crime. Fine. I’d play along. This time, I had no weaknesses.

Jasmine Reign Campbell has one rule. Stay invisible. Stick with her friends. Avoid drama at all costs. Then Draven Augustus Green walks into her life. The campus bad boy. Arrogant, irresistible, and impossible to ignore. The one everyone loves and the one she wants to stay far away from. He breaks every rule and somehow gets under her skin. Jasmine is determined to never fall for someone like him. Rule number one exists for a reason. But some rules are not meant to last.

After being given a second chance, a fresh lease on life, Liana was determined not to find herself back in the situation that led to her demise, no matter what. But it soon felt like she got kicked to the curb by fate as her only ticket out turned out to be the cold exiled rogue, Trevor, "The Alpha who never was." He is a man who lost everything for a sin he never committed, but he was punished for it. Bound by mistake, they find themselves in a union they never bargained for. She is supposed to be nothing but a dead weight he'd have to tolerate for the time being. And it was so for some time, until it wasn't. Lines begin to blur, boundaries begin to get crossed. From hate, something is born that only death can come between. As secrets are unveiled, and pasts catch up to the present, they must decide - whether to fight for what fate has thrown at them, or tear each other apart.

Distressed by the evidence of her husband’s unfaithfulness, Emily found herself fallen prey to her best friend Maya’s scheme. Between her husband Louis’ distrust and the intensifying strife within her family, Emily found help from Damian, the heir to a multinational conglomerate. This is a story of two people who are skeptical about love but ultimately discover genuine affection for one another.

My body matured faster than most girls my age. When I turned 18, my overprotective brother worried I’d be taken advantage of, so he asked his best friend to look after me. But the first time we met, that man's eyes never left my body. After I graduated from college, he kept crossing the line, again and again. By day, he was my boss, and by night, I was his "personal assistant." For four years, we kept our affair a secret. He molded me into exactly what he liked, and the worst part? I let him. One day, his ex-fiancée came back from overseas. He slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the airport to pick her up. Humiliated but unwilling to let go, I followed him there, only to watch him gently stroke another woman’s hair right in front of me. He turned to me and said, "Jennifer Huckabee, four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was drunk. The way you're behaving now… it’s really pathetic." The way he looked at her was soft, and the way he mocked me was sharp and deliberate. I suddenly realized he was right. This was meaningless. So I lowered my head, texted my brother to tell him I’d accept the Sinclair family marriage proposal, then looked up at that man and smiled. "Alright then. Goodbye."

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."