No Doubt In Us

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

It all seemed like a naughty prank at first. You know, the 'disappearing' trick lovers usually pull on each other to see who misses the other most? Yes, that was what Katniss thought at first until months passed and still, Noah was absolutely no where to be found.... Witty, beautiful and bubbly. Just a few adjectives to describe Katniss Costello's interesting and charming character. A young lady who had it all; from affluent parents to wealth and popularity to a quite amazing love life she shared with Noah Rogers, her then soon to be husband. Her life seemed to have come to a shattering halt after reality dawned on her that Noah might never return. She barely talked. Barely smiled. Barely went out, always bed ridden, gloomy and depressed. Void of all emotions. Indeed the shadow of her previous self. Her parents took advantage of the absence of her fiance and deemed it fit to have her married off to a proud, rich and arrogant son of their friend. She strongly opposed to the arranged marriage for few wisps of hope that he might return still laid in her heart. It was the motivation and inspiration she had to wait for him and when he does return, she'd still be here...waiting. When the pressure from her parents was getting too tough and unbearable, she wanted to get rid of it all, get rid of the emotional pain, get rid of the weight that was becoming far to heavy to carry. All she wanted was freedom, but there was only one way to do that... That night, underneath the Blue Moon, standing on the deck above the Ballad River where she wanted to end it all, there she met Asher Holden and that was the onset of her rollercoaster love life.

What will you do if your fiancé betrays you, with someone you are completely unexpected and, in fact, really love about? I ran away, to a club owned by a handsome billionaire who was heartbroken and ended up in his bed. Not stopping there, I continued my escape all the way to Italy, with the fetus in my stomach. I thought, after all that chaos, I and I had finally found a new, peaceful life in a place that no one would ever know about. However, the billionaire found me and was determined to take me back, especially after he found out that there were a pair of twins with me. The problem was, I was determined never to come back, and that man also had a fiancee. What should I do?

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

The day before Chris Carter and I were supposed to get engaged, my parents sent me to prison. Three years later, when I was finally released, Chris was the only one who came to pick me up. I knew he despised me. I trembled, keeping my head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But he blocked my path, frowning. “Emily York? You stink.” He pinched his nose and told me to get in the car. I fell to my knees, desperately begging him not to take me home. If he did, I would die. He looked at me with chilling indifference and said, “Then go ahead and die.” I agreed. But later, he cried and begged me to stay alive.

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

My best friend and I marry into the Xylander family at the same time. Everyone says we're lucky. My best friend's husband is a master negotiator, while my husband is a bomb disposal expert. Their enemy abduct us after we've just discovered we're pregnant. He ties bombs to our bellies. When our husbands negotiate with the abductors, they choose to save Melinda Sutton, a woman they grew up with. The bombs are detonated, and we're gravely injured. After surviving the explosion, we decide to get divorced together.

The night before our Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Ryker of the Howling Moon Pack, ordered me to give him the Moon Soul Crystal—the very thing that protected my pack, the Willow Creek Pack. He said he needed it to power up the Howling Moon Pack's Blood Moon Altar. He also promised he'd keep me and my people safe. But he didn't know that we, the healers of the Willow Creek Pack, can only create one Moon Soul Crystal in our entire lives. Making one takes a crazy amount of moon energy. It's the treasure that keeps our pack alive. My mother, worried about me using up my moon energy while I was pregnant, gave up her own Moon Soul Crystal instead. But just three months after Ryker and I were mated, she got sick, fast. She was dying. I knelt in front of Ryker, crying, begging him for the Silverleaf Herb from the Howling Moon's forbidden grounds. It was the only thing that could save my mom. But he just looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment, and kicked me away. "I asked for the Moon Soul Crystal to test you," he snarled. "And just as I thought, you married me for our pack's treasures! Your mother's not sick. You're making it all up!" "You don't deserve to be the Luna of the Howling Moon Pack!" It wasn't until after my mother died, when he was arguing with me, trying to kick me out of the pack, that my mother's things fell and scattered everywhere. Her Soul Stone, the symbol of a wolf's spirit, shattered. That's when he finally realized he was wrong. He fell to his knees, begging me not to leave, crying for me to forgive him.

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.