Once Upon A Time In America Novel Novels & Stories

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.

When Amelia turned down Ryan’s love years ago, she thought she was choosing peace over pain. Back then, he was just an ambitious young man with big dreams and no fortune. But fate has a cruel sense of humor when Amelia applies for her dream job, her new boss turns out to be none other than Ryan… now a powerful billionaire with a reputation as cold as his wealth is vast. As old feelings resurface and secrets from their past threaten to unravel, Amelia must face the man she once rejected and the truth that walking away might have been her biggest mistake.

**PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS BOOK IS CURRENTLY BEING EDITED AND REVISED*** Dragged to a ball where the country's most eligible bachelor is rumoured to be choosing a wife, Elizabeth wanted to be anywhere but here. Knowing her mother was counting on being tied to the Dereon's, the country's most powerful family, she decides to put her best foot forward. But with no one even knowing how August Dereon looks, how will the night go? August Rain is filled with a roller coaster of emotions and storylines. From betrayals to murder and pregnancy - and a mafia subplot, get your fill of Dragonfly and Mr Dereon in this sweet romance novel. *Book 1 of The Mafia Trinity Series of Novels*

Murder. That’s what the world called it. To him, it was mundane. My husband didn’t even blink while stabbing me twenty-seven times… Not even when he knew I was thirteen weeks pregnant with his child. I died. But fate is cruel. Crueler than him......Because it gave me another chance - a chance not to escape, but to finish the game. This time, I didn’t run. This time, I chose violence. I walked toward the man who would murder me in five years, looked straight into his pretentious eyes, and smiled. “Nicolas… let’s get married.” A smirk curled on my lips. Devil? He didn’t create one. He created me: Anna Fvcking Devile.

Devyn Reilly isn't a socialite or mafia princess - she's down on her luck and it shows. Her rent is due, bills needed to be paid and she just got fired. Her singing career was going the same way as her life was - nowhere. But would all this be enough to make her go down The Rabbit Hole? Kieran Teague is a ruthless Irish mob boss, known to be so callous that even the Russian Pakhan of New York was wary of him. Stepping into his newly opened BDSM club, The Rabbit Hole, he did not expect to be intrigued by a lowly new dancer. However, the second she opened her mouth to sing, he knew he had to have her. Will the ruthless mobster be softened by the submissive siren? *Book 3 of The Mafia Trinity Series of Novels*

Abigail, a struggling writer, time-travels to 19th century France, landing in the lavender fields of Provence. There she meets Vincent, a solitary artist with a mysterious past. Together, they explore the land and inspire each other's work, leading to a passionate, yet doomed, affair. As the hourglass drains, Abigail must choose between her modern life or her love for Vincent in the past

Evelyn Langford spent three years loving Khalid Voss in silence, trading her promising career as an interior designer for the role of the perfect, understanding wife in their opulent Manhattan penthouse. But when Khalid’s empire expands and his charismatic Executive Vice President—and ex-lover—Natasha Cross reclaims her place at his side, Evelyn becomes invisible in her own marriage. Tired of broken promises and lonely anniversaries, Evelyn reclaims her talent and independence, shining brighter with every passing day. As her name rises in New York’s design world, Khalid finally notices the woman he has taken for granted. Now, faced with the terrifying possibility of losing her forever, he must confront the depth of his regret. In a city that never sleeps, can a forgotten wife find the strength to either forgive or walk away?

On the third anniversary, which also happens to be Natalie Sherman's birthday, her husband, Lester Garrison, gives her a very special gift—a divorce agreement. Calmly, Lester picks up a pen and drops his signature on the bottom left corner of the agreement. Then, he pushes the document in Natalie's direction. "Rene is very stubborn, and it's very difficult for me to appease her. Only when I'm divorced will she agree to accept me as her lover. "I've already signed the divorce agreement. You should do the same. Don't worry, we're just faking this divorce." Lester's tone is very casual, not to mention he sounds emotionless, too. It's as though he's discussing what to have for dinner tonight.

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."