No Maiden Elden Ring Novelas e Histórias

Maiden Caliber was once a 25-year-old successful businesswoman whose ambition is to take revenge on those people who caused pain and agony in her life. She sought justice for her parent's death and bring turmoil in their predicaments. But what if everything turns upside down? What if the supposed revenge will not be successfully done because she died? But worse, what if after she died she's reincarnated to one of the otome novels her mother once wrote? Say the least that she's not even one of the main cast? But worst and worst of it all, the same history comes with the character she's playing, a girl whose parents died because they were killed by those powerful people in the kingdom? What will she do? Will she emerge from one of the least characters to one of the main protagonist? Will she take her revenge after all?

In the Gallo family’s private jewelry workshop. The wedding ring I’d waited six months for was on another woman’s finger. Gia’s hand. An international supermodel my fiancé, the Don of the Gallo family, was having an affair with. The workshop director stood by, a cold sweat soaking his back as he looked at Maximo on the sofa. Maximo stood up. He took Gia’s hand, lifting it to the light to admire the ring, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s walking in a major show in Paris next week. She needs this to make an impression on the haute couture scene. The family vault is full of jewels. Pick something else. Don't be dramatic.” Under the harsh lights, Gia admired herself in the mirror, her smile haughty and triumphant. I looked at my own reflection. Cashmere sweater and jeans. I didn’t belong here. This wedding, a year in the making, suddenly felt like a joke. I'm not upset. I just canceled the custom wedding dress along the way. “Maximo. The other jewels are perfectly fine.So I’m not getting married.”

In the Corvona underworld, there is one unspoken rule. When a Don keeps a new woman by his side for three consecutive months, the Donna must personally remove the signet ring symbolizing her power and place it on the new woman's finger before the entire family. When my husband, Luca, the Don of the Bellini family, announced he would take Mia alone on a three-month business trip, the entire Corvona underworld waited for me to have a meltdown. I had been with Luca Bellini for seven years. I followed him everywhere, refusing to leave his side. I would even wake up in the middle of the night to touch him, needing to know he was there to feel secure. They were all aware of my clinginess and were betting I would never let go. But when Mia extended her hand to me, her voice dripping with saccharine, I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly removed the signet ring engraved with the family crest and slid it onto her ring finger. Luca, lounging in the leather chair at the head of the table, swirled the whiskey in his glass, satisfaction gleaming in his cold blue eyes. "Elara, you've finally learned your place." I lowered my gaze to my bare finger, saying nothing in return. What Luca didn't know was that a month ago, I had recovered all seven years of my lost memories. I wasn't some street orphan at all, but the long-lost Principessa of the Rossi family, the most powerful of the Old World families. In three days, my brother's armed convoy would roll into Corvona to take me home.

My dad has died in a car crash when I'm seven years old. So, my mom marries her first love, Robert Hayes, and integrates me into his family. During the first meal with my new family, Robert announces a newly instated family rule. "From now on, we have to split the bills in this family." Once I eat a piece of steak, Robert tells me to pay him 300 dollars for the meal. I just look at my stepsister, Harper Hayes, who's digging into her meal happily. "Harper ate steak as well. Why didn't you ask her to pay you back, Dad?" "That's because Harper's my biological daughter. I love her, and she has the bloodline privileges," Robert answers. Then, I glance at Mom. So, Robert adds, "Your mom is my wife. I love her, which means she has privileges as well. But in your case, we're not related by blood, nor do we have any ties of affection with each other. I'm not obligated to raise you at all, Maddie."

I traveled over a thousand eight hundred miles to find my wife. She was a professor at Harbor University. As soon as I arrived, I received a call. “Hi, Mr. Jaques. We’re just following up on the stroller your wife custom-ordered from us. Have you been happy with it? If so, would you mind leaving us a quick positive review?” I was stunned. We had lived apart for years and did not have a child together. Still, I remained calm and double-checked. “Are you sure I’m the one who ordered that stroller?” “Yes, sir, I can confirm that. Our system requires ID verification from both parents for all custom stroller orders. The mother on file is Shiloh Zoeller. Mr. Jaques, you are listed as the child’s father.” The customer service agent sent me a screenshot of the child’s information as proof. It indeed showed that I had a child around one month old. The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. I went to the address listed on the order. Downstairs, a young man was chatting with a group of people. “As of today, I’m no longer your classmate. I’m now the professor’s husband!” A male classmate laughed and teased him. “What a show off. But come on, the kid’s already a month old. When are you and Ms. Zoeller finally tying the knot? We’re still waiting to toast you!” Just then, a very familiar female voice spoke. “What’s taking you so long? Get up here. Our little boy is getting impatient.” I followed the sound of the voice and saw Shiloh holding a swaddled baby. She leaned against that man’s chest as if she had done it countless times.

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

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.

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.

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for being too fat, stretching the dress until it tore." Still crouching on the floor, I watched the two of them behave intimately. My gaze turned cold. The dress was ruined, and so was my dream. It was time to wake up.