Never On The Sunday

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.

“I paid for an heir, not a wife. Hand over the child and leave.” ​Five years ago, I signed a contract with the devil. Desperate to save my dying grandmother, I agreed to be a surrogate for the ruthless billionaire, Liam Sterling. I broke the one rule: I fell in love with him. ​But the moment I gave birth, he turned into a monster. He took my son, threw a check in my face, and had security drag me out of the hospital. He didn't know the truth—I wasn't just carrying one baby. I was carrying two. ​I raised my daughter in secret, far away from his cruel world. She is my light, my joy, my everything. ​But now, fate has played a cruel joke. Liam has found us. He sees his eyes in her face. He wants to take her, too. But he’s about to learn that the timid girl he threw away is gone. If he wants my daughter, he’ll have to go through me. And this time? I’m ready to start a war.

When Alex loves, she loves hard. So much so that she loses and depletes herself. She's madly in love with newly drafted football star Ezra, who loves her but won't tell that to the world. So she stays through the chaos because of "love", but soon the chaos becomes too much to bear and that has her going downhill. ------- NB: This book will take you on an emotional rollercoaster, maybe even have you really upset with the protagonist. But please be patient with her. She'll get it soon enough.

For five years, Vixen loved and waited for her mate’s devotion, only to find he had already given his heart to another—her own stepsister. Betrayed and stripped of everything, she watches the child she raised choose another, and her world crumbles. But Vixen is not done. From heartbreak rises fury, from loss power, and from betrayal emerges a woman determined to make them pay. The man who once rejected her will fall to his knees, desperate to reclaim her. But Vixen has already found someone else: a man who sees her for who she is, and will never let her go. 🔥SNEAK PEEK🔥 Vixen felt his gaze before his hand closed around her wrist, dragging her into the shadowed alcove beyond the ballroom lights. “You keep looking at him.” The accusation burned low and dangerous. Her breath faltered as his body boxed her against the marble wall. “He was part of my life,” she whispered. His jaw tightened. “Was.” Across the hall, Kael laughed with Olaine. Vixen forced a smile. This should be interesting. But that smile was his breaking point. His fingers slid beneath her chin, forcing her gaze back to him — possessive, unyielding, furious in a way that made her pulse stutter. “You wear my name now,” he said roughly. “Your eyes don’t follow another man.” Her lips parted to argue. He kissed her before the words could form. Not gentle. Not patient. The kiss stole her breath, crushed her protest, branded heat into her veins as his hand tightened at her waist, holding her against him like a warning the entire world could read. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his voice raw and dark. “Let him watch,” he whispered. “Let him see exactly who you belong to.”

You’ll divorce me… because she asked you to?” Sereia Fontaine never believed love was fair she always knew it was cruel and pain filled but what she didn’t know was that on the night she thought she was celebrating her marriage, she would be handed divorce papers,by the man she loved dearly simply because her sister said so. The woman her husband truly loves has returned and she wants her place back. Sereia has always been the one who waits. She loved a man who never chose her, lived in a home that never felt like hers, and spent years convincing herself that love meant endurance. When the past resurfaces, Sereia’s world collapses fast. Words are twisted. Loyalty turns fragile. Cast out with nothing but shame and sadness. Sereia is forced to face a life of struggle but New York is full of dangerous men, broken promises, and second chances that don’t come without a cost. And some lies don’t stay buried… even when they should.

ang kasalan kung saan pinagtagpo ang landas ng isa't isa. kasal ma kala'y peke lang, pawang gawa-gawa lang—iba pala ang inaakala. ang kasal na akala'y pagpapanggap lang, humantong sa katotohanang aksyon na akala'y acting lang. ang totoo ay...may nangyayari ibigan sa pagitan nilang dalawa na dahilan ng pagbunyag ng ibat-ibang sekreto.

Kourtney was out of options. To save herself and get her inheritance, she did something crazy—she kidnapped Travis Forger. Now, she stood in front of him, holding a marriage contract, her last hope. “If you marry me, I can get my inheritance. After that, we’ll let you go,” she told him, her voice shaking. But Travis didn’t panic. He stayed calm. “And what do I get from this?” he said. “I already have a fiancée. I love her." Those words broke Kourtney’s heart. She already knew about Kim, but hearing him say it hurt more than she expected. “You’re my hostage!” she snapped. “You have to do what I say!” Travis looked at her, no anger—just disappointment. “This isn’t love, Kourtney. This is just fear.” Her hands dropped to her sides. She felt small, helpless, and humiliated. But deep inside, something darker began to grow. As she turned away, her eyes filled with tears, and one dangerous thought crossed her mind: If Travis won’t marry her by choice… Then maybe he won’t have a choice at all.

It is a forced marriage. They both forced because of a business in their family. Everlynne is a doctor in a famous hospital of her father. Azrael, on the other hand, is a Mafia boss who had a previous relationship and was unexpectedly forced to break up with his girlfriend due to a forced marriage.

Arielle Santos 24 years old never imagined that her life would be written for her — even her love story. She was raised in a modest family, a dreamer who painted her hopes in colors only she could see. But one evening, her world collapsed when her parents revealed the truth: to save their family from bankruptcy, she had to marry the son of their business partner — Evan Monteverde, the 28 years old, cold and distant heir of one of the country’s most powerful companies. Evan didn’t believe in love. To him, emotions were distractions — weaknesses that could ruin a man. He had long promised himself never to trust feelings again after being betrayed by someone he once loved. So when his father announced his arranged marriage with a woman he barely knew, he didn’t protest for love’s sake — only to end the endless lectures about “duty” and “family legacy.” Their wedding day was perfect — at least in the eyes of the guests. But behind the veil and the smiles, two strangers stood at the altar, reciting vows they didn’t mean. The words “I do”echoed in the church, but neither of them truly did. After the ceremony, they made a deal — they would live together for one year, play their roles for the sake of appearances, and then quietly separate. No love. No expectations. Just peace. But peace was harder to keep than they thought.

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.