Romans & histoires Never Gone

If someone would ask if series of unfortunate event is true, I volunteer to testify. For three decades, I have been unlucky with everything - love, family, career, success. And I blame loving Albert for all these misfortunes. Until one day, I was given a chance to do everything all over again. I woke up in my eighteen-year old body... The day before I met Albert.

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

After years of heartbreak and loneliness, Amara has convinced herself that love is not meant for her. Growing up surrounded by loss and disappointment, she builds walls around her heart and focuses only on surviving each day. When she moves to a new city hoping to start over, fate leads her to Daniel, a quiet but kind man who sees through the pain she tries so hard to hide. Their connection begins as friendship, but slowly Daniel shows Amara something she has never truly felt before—a love that is patient, genuine, and healing. But the past refuses to stay buried. Old wounds, secrets, and fear threaten to pull them apart. Amara must decide whether to keep running from love or finally believe that she deserves it. As their lives intertwine, she begins to understand a powerful truth: sometimes love arrives when you least expect it—and when it does, it reminds you that no matter how broken you feel, you are never truly alone.

One week before our wedding, my fiancé, my father’s own consigliere, sold him out.He set him up for a FBI raid. My father died in a pool of blood, his eyes wide open, and the once-great Moretti family collapsed overnight. In my darkest hour, Dominic, the Don of the New York Luciani family, showed up with a crew of mercenaries. He didn't just take care of the rat; he gave me total protection. He obsessed over me for three years, even tattooing my name over his heart. I fell for it. I believed he loved me. I let my guard down and stayed by his side, serving as the lead perfumer for the coldest man in the city. Until today. Outside the wine cellar, I overheard him talking to his rival. "Old man Moretti died never knowing who had leaked his location," Dominic said. "But imagine if that stupid woman, Elena, found out," the rival mocked. "If she knew the man who killed her father was the same husband kissing her forehead every night... would she lose her mind?" My hand froze on the cellar door. The rival’s laughter came through the cracks: "You’re cold-blooded, Dominic! Elena thinks you’re her savior. She even wants to give you an heir. She’d never dream the raid that destroyed her life was actually your offering to Sienna."

Arielle scored the most lucrative deal of her career and decided to celebrate it with a two-week vacation touring another continent. In her plans to let loose for the first time in her life, she has a one-night stand with a fellow tourist. The next day she left him with a simple goodbye note thinking they would never see each other again. __ Thomas finally managed to squeeze a two-week vacation after five years of grueling his ass for his family business. His plans to relax take a detour when he meets a fascinating tourist enjoying herself alone. After they tangled in bed, she left him with the intention of never crossing paths again, which he is more than happy to oblige. Her non-clingy attitude increases his estimation of her. __ But fate has other plans as he turns out to be her employer for her biggest deal yet. They are both contracted to work together for the next six months. As the sparks fly, where would it lead them?

I had been married to Matthew Zackman for 20 years, taken care of my bedridden mother-in-law for ten years, and supported him as he transformed from a rural teacher to a well-known professor. Everyone called me a model of a virtuous wife and a great contributor to the Zackman family. When my mother-in-law was on her deathbed, she held my hand and said that she still wanted me to be her daughter-in-law in her next life. Matthew had held me in his arms and said gratefully, "Jamie, you've worked so hard all these years. I'll make it up to you in the future." I thought the hard times were finally over, but my mother-in-law had just passed away when he handed me a divorce agreement and embraced my best friend, who had grown up with me. He said, "Jamie Lingsworth, I've endured this marriage for 20 years and am finally free. Rosie is the one I've loved all along." I left the marriage empty-handed and was forced to wander the streets until a car accident ended my life. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the day of my blind date 20 years ago. The matchmaker was enthusiastically praising Matthew, "This young man is a diamond in the rough! He's kind and filial. Whoever marries him is one lucky woman!" I looked at the polite and sincere-looking man across from me and smiled. Then, I threw the matchmaking document in my hand into the trash can. "Sorry, I don't think we're a good match."

My wife, Jolene Stephens, and I both cheated. The difference was that she chose to betray me while I had been made to cheat. She got me blackout drunk the same night her affair with Leon Homes came to light. Then, she stripped me naked and left me in a hotel room with a stranger. She posed my unconscious body in degrading positions and took photos to create evidence of my "affair." Both our cheating photos were exposed consecutively, and the public outrage against her little lover was offset. A huge wave of nausea rolled over me, making me dry-heave over the sink. My body was covered in red marks. The thought of what the stranger had done to me drove me to fits of terror. My wife watched as I scrubbed my skin until it split and bled before saying quietly, "I didn't have a choice. Leon's from a conservative family. It would destroy him if word got out that he was a homewrecker." The internet tore me apart overnight. My grandfather, Bruce Tillman, the only kin I had left, suffered a heart attack after seeing the news and was rushed into the emergency room. I had to protect her just to protect myself. So, I repeated the lie she needed me to tell under a wall of flashing cameras and microphones. "Neither of us cheated. Ms. Stephens and I had already separated long ago."

When I stepped aside and handed the starting spot on the esports team to the guy Zara Moody had always loved, she saw how obedient I had been and moved our wedding up as a reward. But at the ceremony, the man she could never forget suddenly pulled out a knife and cut himself, jealousy burning in his eyes. "Please don't marry him!" Zara, who was usually so calm, instantly lost her composure. She turned to me, panic written all over her face as she begged me to help save him. Every guest in the room was watching, waiting to see how I would react. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly stepped aside and gave up the groom's place. When Zara saw how reasonable I was, just like always, her eyes reddened at the corners. "I promise this is the last time I'll ever put you through something like this. After the ceremony, we'll go register our marriage." What she forgot was that this was the 96th time she had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with her. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I repaid the debt I owed her for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away from her for good. After that, we would never see each other again.

"Where's Donna? Is she asleep?" "My Don... Donna Seraphina has been gone for three days. She told me to give you this." Seraphina Reed. The day I found out I was pregnant, my Mafia husband, Lorenzo, declared in front of the city's elite that our marriage was nothing but my "calculated scheme." I waited anxiously and helplessly for his explanation, but only received a taunting message from his secretary, Victoria. "Your husband isn't coming home tonight. Do you know why?" "Because he's with me, handling some… private business." At that moment, loving him so deeply I would have given him everything, I felt like the world's biggest joke. It turned out everyone thought I married him for money. They bet I would break, they bet I would cry, I would kneel and beg for a scrap of his love. But I didn't. I simply went back to the room, took off my wedding ring, and sealed it in an envelope along with my pregnancy report. Then, I left the cage that had trapped me for ten years. Later, he went crazy looking for me. He turned over every port, locked down every airport, and mobilized the entire family's power. He offered up everything he had, just to beg for my love.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.