Novel & Cerita Ninth House Leigh Bardugo

Autumn Dawson had only ever loved one man, Ivan Ashton, her husband. For twelve years, she devoted her life to him, only to have her heart shattered when he married her sister on their 11th anniversary. Shortly after, she met a mysterious death and was reincarnated three years before her demise. This time, she vowed things would be different. On their ninth anniversary, when Ivan brazenly introduced his mistress for the first time, Autumn refused to remain silent. No longer the mute dog wagging her tail at her husband's call, she stood up, her eyes blazing with fury. "I want a divorce," she declared, her voice resonating with newfound strength. The room fell silent, the shock evident on both Ivan's and her sister's faces. For the first time, Autumn wasn't backing down. She had had enough, and she was determined to seek revenge on every single person who had wronged her in her past life. But as she prepared to walk away, Ivan grabbed her arm, his eyes filled with desperation. "I want a second chance," he pleaded. Autumn's eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening. "Over my dead body," she spat, yanking her arm free. This time, Autumn Dawson wasn't just fighting for herself. She was ready to take down anyone who dared to stand in her way.

On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Don James Colombo, left me at the altar again. "Angelina is in the ICU," he said. "The ceremony will have to wait." It was the ninth time he had abandoned me for his terminally ill childhood sweetheart. The first time, she had run away from home, and he could not rest easy. "Angelina is missing, yet you want me to stand here toasting at the wedding? Don't be so selfish, Leticia." The third time, he said Angelina was in a terrible state and threatening to take her own life — he had to go comfort her. By the eighth time, James had stopped explaining and simply had the butler notify me the wedding was off. For him, postponing a wedding was nothing. For me, the Buono Principessa left standing in a chapel, it meant ridicule and one hundred lashes from my furious father. The lashes split open my skin and left me running a fever that would not break. James would hold me afterward, apologize helplessly, and promise he would make it up to me after we married. He promised nine times. He kept none of them. So when he left me again for Angelina, I did not cry or make a scene. I packed my bags alone and in silence. It would be the last time he ever postponed our wedding. One month later, he would never be able to find me again.

When the hospital director called me for the tenth time, I was still stuck in traffic on the winding mountain road leading into the city. A pink Polo driving inexcusably slow was wedged in the middle of two lanes and obstructing my path. The "New Driver" sticker on the rear of the car seemed to insult me. I took a deep breath before slamming on the horn. That was when the car jerked to a stop. A man in a floral shirt stepped out of the car, marched to my car, and pounded on my window. "What's with the rush?! Can't you tell by the sticker that I'm a new driver? If you cause an accident, you're going to have to pay up!" I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that veins bulged on the back of my hand. The director's desperate cries were still echoing in my ears, "Dr. Leigh, the boy is dying! The only information we have is that his father's name is Ronald Baker!" Upon noting my silence, the man smiled smugly before smacking the hood of my car. "Go ahead, drive over the barrier to bypass me if you want! Even the police have to slow down for me!" With that, he slammed his brand-new driver's license against my window. "Look closely, I just got my license yesterday! I'm a legal driver!" I quickly glossed over the driver's license. What stood out to me was his name printed on the license. Ronald Baker.

It was a bad idea. She knew it but she had no choice. After finding herself penniless after the death of her parents who nevertheless had a good fortune, Rose had no other idea than to loot the trunk of her old house to pay for her little sister's treatment. Anyway, it wasn't a theft because nobody knows about this safe... The house was empty because it was for sale, she was going to sneak in and she would never set foot there again. It was a perfect idea... When she entered the house, she suspected that there was someone but she persisted and continued... -Who are you? What are you doing at my house? She was so relieved that no one had touched her money so she hadn't even heard the footsteps... She turned to see a man...a man with a mask covering half his face. .. Frightened, she did not expect that this night could change her life... -I'll let you take your trunk and I'll offer you double more so that you serve as my escort, for one night... Rose could not understand such a proposal. However, she had no choice...

My marriage certificate with Shane Galingston was lost again. By the time we went to replace it for the ninth time, his childhood sweetheart deliberately raised her voice as she said, "Lily has been divorced eight times and has had nine abortions. She also has AIDS and syphilis… practically every vice in the book. Did you know all that?" With a loud crash, a newlywed couple sitting nearby was so startled that they fell to the floor, groaning in pain. In an instant, contemptuous and disgusted gazes poured in from all directions, pinning me in place. The icy slime of rotting refuse dripped down my face, chilling not just my skin but my heart as well. This time, I didn't hold back. I turned and walked straight toward the complaint counter. But Shane, who had stayed silent all along, suddenly grabbed my arm. He wiped the filth from my face and coaxed me in a low, gentle voice. "Don't be angry. She's just childish—she likes to fool around. She didn't mean to smear your name. "Besides, she's not targeting you. She's just throwing a tantrum at me. How could I not know what kind of person you are?" As he spoke, he shot his childhood sweetheart a helpless yet indulgent glance. "Go ahead and help us reissue—" I pushed his hand away without expression and cut him off. "No need. Let's get a divorce."

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

Grayson Page is forced to marry a young woman—Belle Walters. But Belle is extremely disobedient and wreaks havoc on a daily basis.Enraged, Grayson declares, "We will get a divorce as soon as the marriage contract is up!"Two years later, the marriage contract is up. Everybody waits with anticipation for him to get the divorce he had vowed to get.Grayson stops Belle from leaving the house and seduces her relentlessly.Unable to leave, Belle intends to arrange for someone to come to the house to handle the divorce procedures."I will kill whoever dares to step foot in here! And if you ever dare to leave the house, I'll break your legs!" Grayson threatens.Exasperated, Belle cries. Grayson instantly transforms into the gentlest person on Earth. Holding her in his arms, he coaxes, "There, there, darling. Be good, okay? We won't be getting a divorce. We'll make babies so that they can entertain you."

Due to her manly name, Ryan, a 23-year-old woman, was forced to live in the same house with five billionaires - Terban, Kyle, Chaylen, Slyvester, and Vincent. She thought everything will go smoothly if she stays away from these men who always fight each other. Until one day, the handsome men started to act weirdly around Ryan. Will she be able to survive in the house with five hot guys who stare at her as if she's a lamb in the den of the Wolves?

"The House of Mortem has taken what belongs to us. For years, they have raped our girls and women, burned our houses, and taken our brothers captive. Tonight, we take back what is ours and restore the lost glory of the House of Vagamor." If Alpha Orvyn knew better, he would have read the stars and counted the cost before going into battle against the all-powerful Alpha Kazamir of the House of Mortem. To bring down the usurper of his father's throne, Alpha Orvyn made a promise to his late father's grave stone to get back what was rightfully theirs, no matter the cost. Most of her subjects outside the castle walls thought Princess Olive lived an enviable life. But little did they know that the Princess is nothing less of a bargaining tool in the hands of her powerful father, Alpha Kazamir. He wanted to marry her off to the arrogant Alpha Cassian of the House of Stortstrand in return for his riches and ruthless mercenaries. The paths of the two lost souls cross in what seemed like a cross fire, sparking off an incandescence of forbiden love between them. Will the duo be able to navigate the forbidden route of their new found love? Wiill their secret romance bud into rainbows and rubies, or will it rain blood and hell on them?

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.