Novel & Cerita Qué Día Volvían A Estar Juntos

The day Jasper Carter's terminally ill ex, Natalie Klutz, gave birth, his parents—Josephine and Raymond—hired ten bodyguards to keep me, his actual wife, out of the hospital. But I never showed. Josephine clutched Natalie's hand. "She's not getting near you or the baby." Jasper wiped Natalie's forehead. "Relax. Dad's got men at every door. If Emily shows, we'll toss her." Hours passed. Still no me. Jasper finally let himself breathe. He didn't get what my deal was. He was just granting Natalie's dying wish—to be a mom. The second the nurse handed over the crying baby, he smiled like everything was finally worth it. If I came tomorrow and said sorry, he'd forgive me. Hell, he'd even let me raise the kid. What he didn't know? I had just submitted my paperwork. I'd leave the country, join Doctors Without Borders, and ghost him for good.

I came to my father’s funeral in a white dress and a red rose, thinking the worst they’d do was spit on me again. They were celebrating. It wasn’t a funeral. It was Drelia’s coronation party with my father’s corpse in the background. I was ready to leave. Let them have their title, their cameras, their champagne. I’d go back to my law firm and pretend I never had Mende blood. Then the will changed. The family lawyer said two words that shattered everything: “You’re the heiress” Suddenly the bouncers who were dragging me out were bowing to me. Suddenly Drelia and Cade looked like they’d been gutted. Suddenly I had a title, a target on my back, and 30 days before the Council declared me Luna or declared me dead. The pack hates me. My family wants me gone. And the only way to keep my head is to play a game I never wanted to play: politics, blood, and maybe a marriage to the one man who has every reason to watch me burn.

At 7am on the dot my alarm rings on my nightstand. After a brief moment of irritation I sprung out of bed to get ready for school. While brushing my long curly ember hair my phone dings incessantly on the bathroom counter. After picking up the phone the dread I already felt in my heart was amplified. It was my best friend Jesse wishing me a happy birthday but I for the life of me couldn’t understand what an 18 year old girl had to be happy about. When a woman turns 18 she is mated for life, she’d be made to quit school, produce children and satisfy their mates every need and urge. That’s all a woman was good for in this town and I’d be damned if I was going to sit down and shut up about it. After ignoring Jesse I finished dressing and strolled down stairs where my mother and father were still having their morning meeting with their subordinates. Alfa John and Luna Kate or not, I’d doubt they’d even notice I was leaving if I hadn’t slammed the door on my way out. I wonder if they were disappointed by my lack of interest of the ways of the pack or if they were just disappointed I didn’t have a penis between my legs. Regardless, I have no intention on going to my mating ball tonight. My parents have invited every male in our pack but there’s no way I was going without a fight! As I lift my fingers from the door handle I come to an abrupt stop eye to eye with my fathers beta Josh. In a low growl all I hear is “You didn’t think you could actually leave did you?”

"Strip." "What?" "I said you should strip... You've lost your courage so fast?" Mavis stutters, colour flooding her cheeks. He takes a step further, coming to stand right behind her. he pushes her hair to one side, leaving her left shoulder bare save for the strap of the flimsy red dress. With a deep inhale, he picks the one strap and tugs on it until it slides down her arm, loose. "I am paying you Ten Million Dollars, I should at least have some fun." When the tip of his fingers touch her skin again, it slides dangerously close to her cleavage, and maybe, just maybe, she'd like to have his palms cup her breasts the same way they'd done all those years ago. ********************* It took Seven whole years for her to reappear in his world, and when she did, she did not come alone. She'd had a baby for him seven years before, and that jewel is on the edge of death... For the same child, she'd decided to grovel or worship him and do whatever he wants for a week, just like all those years before. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right? This time, she thinks she can run from Lance Wesker? with the child that looks suspiciously like him? And worst of all, now knowing that Lance Wesker is not a nobody... He is not just the World's Most Eligible Bachelor, he is also her best friend's Elder Brother? Things are about to unravel in the best and messiest way possible, because with Lance and Mavis, nothing is ever going the right way!

The day someone told me I was legitimate blood of the Mafia family, I went from being the Don's daughter's personal maid to being the Don's daughter myself. Three days after they brought me home to the family estate, I went looking for Luciano, the man I'd secretly married, and found him in the study, talking to Don Moretti. "Nina is obedient. She wouldn't dare utter a word even when bullied. She is the perfect person to take the fall for Avery at that bloody party and she won't crack." "Good, Luciano. You think of everything! She's nobody — a street girl. She walks into that bloodbath and dies, nobody's going to miss her. Let her go. Avery's waiting for you to make underboss first, then we do the wedding proper." I stumbled back three steps. My heel hit the marble floor and the pain shot straight up my leg, but it was nothing compared to what just exploded in my chest. I wasn't Don Moretti's real blood. And the man who had sworn his life to me, my own husband, was planning to send me into that slaughterhouse so he could marry the Don's actual daughter. I'd already heard what happened to the last stand-in at one of those events. Shot to pieces. That news drove into my spine like an ice pick. But what they didn't know, what I'd only just found out, was this: My brother, who'd been missing for years, was the highest power in the Cosa Nostra. The one they called the Shadow King.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

Debt. Betrayal. Auction. Isabella Sterling, a master manipulator in disguise, was sold to Dante Belucci, the notorious and feared Mafia boss. His prize. His captive bride. They thought she was broken. They were wrong. She would use him, his power, his world, to destroy those who betrayed her. By the time he realized her dangerous game, he'd fallen too deep. He'd learn that the woman he owned was far more dangerous than he ever imagined. When Dante looked at her, his heart broken, he asked, "Did you ever love me, Isabella?”

Yuri wasn’t looking for anything pure or righteous. He’d never known tenderness, nor did he want to know. It didn’t fit with being Bratva. But when he met her, this tiny bundle of woman, he almost wished he were different. Something about her just appealed to a place deep inside him. A feeling he never realized was even there. She had reached down deep into his soul and taken a piece of him. For her, he almost wished he was different. Because now that he had tasted her he wouldn’t let her go. Raven knew who he was and what he was but she never expected to be drawn to him. She had nothing to offer a man like him. He was one man she never should have met, let alone been allowed to taste. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of and so much more. She knew she should have walked away from him for her own sake. But if she did, she’d be nothing more than a shattered soul.

The doctor said my husband Ethan had dual personality. His primary personality was gentle and devoted. His alter — "Axel" — was reckless and wild. In five years of marriage, every time Axel surfaced, he'd fall for a different woman. Each time, I'd have to pull out our marriage certificate, walk him through our love story from the beginning, just to bring Ethan back. This time, Axel had set his sights on the new dance instructor. I dropped what I was doing at work, ready to go collect him from the psychiatrist's office — same as always. But outside the treatment room, I heard him on the phone with one of his buddies, laughing: "What can I say — I'm a hell of an actor. Five years and she still hasn't caught on." "Besides, why settle for the wife at home when there's so much more fun out there?" The panic I'd been feeling went very, very still. I pulled up my lawyer's number and texted him: Get the divorce papers ready.