Novel & Cerita Next Year In Havana

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

On my birthday, my eight-year-old stepson dumped the cake I spent twelve hours on straight into the trash. His face twisted. "Smells like cheap frosting." Then he turned and happily dug into the plain pasta my husband's secretary made. I was about to lose it when the familiar floating comments popped up again. [OMG Nico's doing this again. He literally LOVES Reyna's cake every year. Boy just too prideful to admit it LOL.] [Fr fr, he's just using his late mom to test Reyna. Kid's lowkey possessive and messy!] [Alex, HELLO? Your son's jealous af. You not gonna say anything? Oh wait... you jealous too huh? Watching Reyna dote on Nico got you pressed. lol.]

On New Year's Eve, I returned home. At the welcome party, my boyfriend, Grayson Caldwell, suddenly appeared, holding a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring, dropping to one knee. "Although this proposal comes a full three years late, our love will never be late," he said. "Alexa, marry me!" Friends cheered from the sidelines, all expecting me to nod through tears and say yes. But they had forgotten that three years ago, on New Year's Eve, he had promised to propose. That night, I dressed to the nines and waited until dawn—but he never showed up. Instead, there was only a cold phone call. "Tanya is sick. I'm busy taking care of her. You'll have to wait a little longer for the proposal." And so, on New Year's Day, I left the country alone, bound by a family-arranged marriage. I had already married someone else three years ago.

I married Dario Vellari in place of the true Salvatore heiress. Dario was the only heir of the Vellari Famiglia, the one with the severe PTSD. Five years of marriage. He never slept with me. Then Bianca came home from Boston, the real heiress, and everything changed. In front of her, Dario reined in his temper. The rooms he had never let me enter, the things he had never let me touch - Bianca walked through them as if they were her own. I thought, then, that I was finished caring for Dario. But after I left, he scoured every corner of the northern hemisphere looking for me. Said if the bride wasn’t me, he would never marry at all.

Jessica Albert did everything to support her husband but when his first love returned, Dylan changed. Do you think Jessica will agree to leave her marriage? Find out.

What were the odds that I'd just fucked my boss and been too buzzed, too horny to clock it? Impossible. Catastrophic. My life was like a ticking bomb of fuckups already; this would only make it explode. "Get a grip, Shayle," I whispered, shaking my head hard. It can't be. -------------- What would you do if you found out you only had four months left to live? In the case of Shayle Vale, she was the definition of a plain Jane; quiet, overlooked, and freshly dumped by a boyfriend who called her ‘boring’. But when the doctor drops her death sentence, she decides ‘boring’ dies today. She made a list; Quit her job, Lose her virginity to her hot next-door neighbor, get a tattoo and Do what the fuck she wants. But life doesn’t play fair. Her shitty boss refused to accept her resignation, her neighbor was allegedly still a virgin, and nothing on her list was going according to plan. Now Shayle’s plain, safe little life is spiraling into messy office wars, late-night temptations, secrets she never saw coming and a toxic love triangle. Will she tick off her last wishes, or will fate throw her off the list completely and into the arms of two sinfully attractive men instead?

On the night of my wedding, my best friend's younger brother wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked me, “It’s a little big. Can you handle it?” I stared at his perfectly defined abs, my mind going completely blank. “What?” He repeated, “Can you handle it?” My voice jumped an octave from my panic. “Aren't we supposed to take things slow? Isn’t this way too fast?” That night, the sound-activated lights in the house flickered on and off until dawn. Meanwhile, my ex-husband was squatting downstairs. His eyes were swollen red from crying, but I did not even spare him a thought. Back then, when I agreed to let him proceed with a fake wedding with his childhood sweetheart, Miles Carter thought our cold war was over. When he explained things to me, he said, “Vivian and I will only be married on paper. The ceremony is just to satisfy my mom. I swear, when this is over, we’ll live as a real couple.” I remained silent. I just stared at the countdown on my phone, counting the days until I could finally leave. He did not know that the moment he tricked me into signing the divorce papers, our marriage had already ceased to exist.

Alpha Kael Blackthorn’s childhood sweetheart was pregnant. On the night of our ninth anniversary, he brought her home and spoke as if assigning ordinary household matters. “She’s carrying a pureblood heir. Her appetite is delicate, so her meals can’t repeat.” “She startles easily at night. Clear out your things and move into the guest room.” I said nothing. I picked up the suitcase I had packed long ago and walked toward the door. The house steward looked ready to stop me, but Kael only laughed. “Let her go.” “She won’t last three days before she comes crawling back.” That made everyone laugh. Right in front of me, they placed a ten-million wager that I would be back before morning, begging him to let me in. After all, for nine years, no matter how much he hurt me, I always came back. But this time, the black sedan outside had already been arranged. This time, I was really leaving.

My sister, Anna Hawkins, and I are twins, but I'm slightly heavier than her when we were born. Anna has always been weak and sickly since young, whereas I'm always active and healthy. When Anna was four years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Mom blamed me for stealing Anna's nutrients when I got born, so I needed to return the nutrients to her. When I got my blood extracted for the first time, a thick syringe was used on me. I was so scared when I saw it. Mom told me not to be scared. She gave me a magical pen, stating that whatever wish I wrote down with the pen would come true. I wrote, "It won't hurt." When the syringe was plunged into my arm again, Mom bought me a sweet lollipop. The pain never struck me again afterward. When I was five years old, I drew a strawberry cake on the paper while getting 1000cc blood withdrawn from me. That week, Anna could sit up in bed and play on her own. When I turned seven years old, I wrote down my wish that I'd like to go on a vacation. The next day, I was sent into the operating theater for the doctors to collect my hematopoietic cells. For the first time ever, Anna's cheeks became rosy. When I was eight years old, I wrote that I wanted to become the top student of my grade. But a day before my exams, my bone marrow was drawn from me. Anna finally got discharged by the hospital. She got to wear new dresses that I never got to wear. In the year I turn nine years old, my body is heavily depleted. With a trembling hand, I can only write down a line in messy handwriting. "I hope… that I won't become Mom's daughter in my next life."

After Jacob Locke brings up breaking up with me once again, I don't wait for him to say anything else. I pack up my things and move out on my own, then quietly cut ties with our past. On the first day, I cancel the wedding planner I booked three years ago but kept delaying. On the second day, I turn off the automatic payments for his mother's treatment. I also politely refuse his sister when she reaches out for money. On the third day, I accept my superior's transfer proposal and get ready to settle down in a southern city. The moment I board the plane, I suddenly get curious. Without me, the free housekeeper who hasn't taken a break in the past decade and the always-on ATM, how will Jacob fare? How will he care for his paralyzed mother, deal with his vain sister, and face his precious junior who's the apple of his eye?