Qué Día Volvían A Estar Juntos Novels & Stories

“You want me to pretend to be your fiancée?” Paige’s voice trembled quietly. Leonardo D’Angelo, her boss, the man she’d spent way too many nights secretly pining over, was holding her by the shoulders. His eyes beseeching. Paige, I know this might come as a surprise to you,” Leonardo’s voice was softer, almost hesitant. “But I need you to be my fake fiancée.” Her heart slammed against her ribs. This had to be a joke. “I—what?” she stammered, staring at him like he’d grown another head. “It’s only for three to four weeks,” he pressed, his grip tightening slightly on her shoulders. “I’ll pay you double, or a vacation, whatever you want. Just say yes.” Paige opened her mouth to refuse, because this was insane, but the look in his eyes stopped her. For once, the arrogant, self-assured Leonardo D’Angelo looked… vulnerable. “Please,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. She should have said no. She should have walked away. Instead, the word slipped from her lips before she could stop it. “Yes.” The relief on his face was immediate, but Paige’s stomach twisted with nerves. What had she just agreed to? And yet, somewhere beneath the chaos, was the dangerous thrill of being the woman by his side.

"Don't worry, I'm not such a barbarian that I'd take my wife against the wall of my living room. I like to take my time, so I'd make a list of the things I'm going to do to you." His sultry promise only made her melt beneath his touch, just wondering what he'd do to her... When her twin Cindy ran away from her wedding, Rella found herself torn between duty and love. From the moment she set eyes on Stefan Diamond, Rella knew her heart wasn't hers anymore but there's just one problem, he was her sister's fiancé and she knew there was no going back the moment she started down the isle towards him as Cindy. But when she realises he had known who she was all along Rella couldn't help but wonder what else he was keeping from her.

My mate, Alpha Lucius, was kissing me when I heard it slip through his mind-link. “My sweet little pup. Daddy’s moving you and Mommy into the new villa tomorrow. I built it just for you.” That’s when I knew. The villa he’d spent a fortune of my pack’s money on… was a love nest. For his bastard and his whore, Clara. He didn't even notice I'd gone cold, too busy bragging about his re-election as Alliance Chairman. He’d been Chairman for four years. Everyone thought his re-election was a sure thing. But the fool forgot. He was only the most powerful Alpha because of me. He was only Chairman because of me. Because of my Silver Moon Pack. Because of my bloodline. I shoved him away. I sent an urgent mind-link to my father. "Lucius has betrayed the Silver Moon bloodline. He and that omega bitch… they’re going to die."

(Sequel to Rite of Submission) Selene D'Arcadia had already had her world turned upside down over and over again when the Alpha came to collect the mate their parents had arranged for him when they were children. No one could have predicted that she'd turn out to be the long lost niece of the Lycan King. Now that he knows she's alive and where to find her, she has to do what ever it takes to escape her uncle's clutches, even if it means starting a war between their packs.

It was the third Valentine's Day after our marriage. Samuel was complaining to his friends about me, "Noelle's very uptight. She's so boring in bed. It's like doing it with a blow-up doll. I'd never have married her if she wasn't rich." I went to a club and got a model with an eight-pack to please me. Enraged, Samuel demanded an explanation. I eyed him and snickered. "Look at you. You're so flabby. I'd never have married you if you weren't at least good-looking."

For three months, I’d been in an online romance with a stranger, a werewolf named "Lykos." We were falling hard and fast. Every night, his deep, husky voice and fiery texts made my whole body burn. "I want you, sweetheart." "I can feel it. You're my fated mate." "Dreamt of you again last night. Your scent was everywhere, and you were wrapped around me, begging me to make you mine." Just as I was fantasizing about meeting him, something in one of his daily photos caught my eye: the silver wolf sigil of the Blackwood Pack. And I, a Beta, work for a corporation owned by the Blackwood Pack. I'd been dating a pack member for three months—someone who could be right under my nose! As I frantically tried to guess who he was, I saw it, and my blood ran cold. My boss, the Alpha's brother, Liam, was wearing the black obsidian and silver ring I’d picked out for "Lykos."

[COMPLETED]They say love can be a beautiful thing. But for me, it's a twisted waking nightmare. Edmondo D'Avi, the ruthless Don of the North, doesn't just love me. He has claimed me. And he owns me. And his words? "...I Saved you, so I own you, Cara..." "I hate it, Cara. I hate it all." ".....when men look at you, I'd gouge their eyes out." "If they get too close, I'll pull out my gun." "If they talk to you as much, I'd ensure they’ll never speak again." "I dare you, Cara, to smile at ONE of them, and watch me shoot ALL of them dead..." He also hated the way they admired my red hair, so he dyed it black. And when that wasn’t enough, he cut it off. I, Cara La Rosa, am bound to a psychopath by a single oath I was forced into and dare not break: to become his Donna. I never had the chance to refuse. Possession. Obsession. Manipulation. Lies. Dark truths. Betrayals. Revenge. And all of it that suffocates every single breath I take is tangled with the one thing that keeps me alive: LOVE. I love Edmondo D'Avi. But love isn’t kind. It doesn’t protect. It consumes. Now, I’m caught in a world of ruthless power, where loyalty is a weapon and betrayal is a breath away. The question is no longer whether I’ll survive. It’s whether I’ll lose myself to his darkness... or become the darkness he moulds me to be. In the end, the choices are: Surrender or SURRENDER!

When I turned eighteen, I completed my shift and finally gained my wolf. The Lycan King of the Northern Tribe—Karl Gilmore, my father's close friend—handed me photos of his sons and told me to choose a mate. Whomever I chose would become the next Lycan King. Without hesitation, I pointed to his eldest son, Sven Gilmore. Everyone was stunned because everyone knew, for years, I had always loved the third son, Erik Gilmore. I'd trailed after Erik like a shadow, declaring loudly to the whole world that I'd marry him someday, that I'd be his mate. In my previous life, I did marry Erik. And he did become the next Lycan King. But a year into our marriage, he betrayed me with my stepsister and got her pregnant. Furious, the old Lycan King forced her to abort the pup and exiled her to another pack. From that moment on, Erik despised me. He started bringing home a different mistress every night. I was furious, helpless, and eventually, I died in the dead of winter. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I'd be back at eighteen, standing at the very moment I was meant to choose my mate. This time, I won't choose Erik. This time, I'll step aside and let him have his love with my sister. But why did Erik break down in tears when I chose someone else, begging me to come back?

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

Five years into my marriage to Ethan Morgan, I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. He'd bought a private island in my name. He'd asked me to quit my career to rest. He called me his queen. What he didn't know was that I never stopped designing — under a different name, a secret identity no one knew about. Not even him. Then his secretary left a review on my designer account, raving about the dress her "billionaire boyfriend" had gifted her. The island in the photo was mine. The man beside her was my husband. [He says his wife doesn't satisfy his real needs.] [Only if he didn't need an heir from her, she'd already be gone.] I was pregnant with that heir. And he would never know. I made one call: "I need a new identity. And a divorce agreement."