Novel & Cerita Qué Día Volvían A Estar Juntos

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

"No one, okay!...No one has ever had me,not like you Calla" A pause; I endured badly as she stood on the other side of the door. "You have your whole life, you wanna throw that away and for what?... We'd be tired of all this one day and you'd realize it's not what you wanted and we'd hate each other." she replied, her voice cold and distant. "I'd never hate you!" "you don't know that now!... I'm not going to be between you and you family." Calla Grayson's life is turned upside down when her mother is diagnosed with lung cancer. Desperate for financial help, she's relieved when a French wine company calls her fashion brand for an interview for a lucrative contract. However, things become complicated when she meets James Renault, the company's heir, who is struggling with his own family demons. Their conflicting meet turns into a deal that helps her fashion brand secure the contract for a fashion and Wine show in Paris. As Calla and James navigate their feelings for each other, they must confront the dark secrets of their families' pasts. James's father is a ruthless and abusive man who will stop at nothing to maintain his power and wealth. Calla's Mum Passes leaving her helpless and alone. James also discovers his father secret of his murder of Calla's biological father, he is forced to choose between his loyalty to his family and his love for Calla. Ultimately, James and Calla find healing, forgiveness, and each other. They vow to spend their lives together and build a brighter future, free from the secrets and lies that haunted their families for so long.

I got pregnant by Alessio Moretti—my brother's best friend, and the youngest, most handsome Don in New York. Then his old flame, Bianca, the one who ghosted him, came back. I thought he’d drop me for her. But he just smirked. "She left without a word. There's no going back." My brother, Gianni, was even colder. "She's not a Ricci anymore. My only sister is you." I believed them. For three years, they'd shown me a warmth and love I'd never known. Then a video of my drunk foster father beating me went viral. The world mocked the noble Ricci princess, once tortured like a beggar. I shattered. I ran to find the only two men I trusted. But I stopped cold at their study door, frozen by Bianca's sickly sweet voice. "Gianni, Alessio... leaking that video? Wasn't it too cruel? Marcella's pregnant." My brother's reply was instant. "That's the point. Pregnancy is supposed to soften her. But she's been running around like she owns the place, keeping you out." Alessio just laughed. "Don't worry about Marcella. She can't touch us. And she's too soft-hearted to ever hurt our child." Tears streamed down my face. A sharp pain shot through my heart. He's right. The baby is my treasure. I'd never hurt him. But Alessio... I won't let you control me. I walked away, numb. I booked a flight. I will slip through their fingers, take my baby, and disappear from their world forever.

WOLFBANE SERIES BOOK 2 ***It is highly recommended you read book 1, Wolfbane, before starting this one for context and to avoid spoilers.*** *TALIA* You'd think being raised in a brothel would prepare me for anything. You'd be wrong. I never expected to find my mother murdered in cold blood. I never predicted I'd hunt down the killer and take his life in exchange. And I sure didn't imagine the son of my mother's murderer would turn out to be my mate. But I guess this is my life now. Being a werewolf in hiding was no piece of cake, but being a werewolf on the run is even worse… *ALEX* I don't think I made a very good first impression. But to be fair, who meets their mate at their father's murder scene? A murder where she, evidently, is the number one and only suspect. It's disturbing. It's gruesome. But it's fate. And I'll do anything to see the mysterious woman with distinctive blue eyes again… *Content warning: This is a paranormal romance novel with dark themes containing mature adult content, offensive language, and graphic violence, and may not be suitable for young readers.*

My life was a living hell after my mother died. My father was the Don of the Rossi family, but you wouldn't know it from the way I lived. My stepsister and stepmother treated me like a maid. When the family faced a crisis, they didn't hesitate to sell me off to Caspian, the heir to the Valerius family, for their own gain. The word on the street was that Caspian was a monster—a butcher with a face torn apart by scars. I refused, but my father threatened me with my mother's keepsakes, forcing me to sign a three-year marriage contract. On our wedding day, Caspian didn't even look at me. He slid the ring on my finger, his touch like ice. "Remember," he said, "you're my wife in name only. Don't expect anything more." I wasn't hurt. That was what I wanted, too. I thought we'd spend three years as strangers, and then I'd be free. But I never expected the day he'd look at me with those possessive eyes, kiss me hard, and declare, "You're mine. My wife. Forever." And damn it, my heart actually skipped a beat.

Three days before the SAT, a car slammed into me. My right leg was ruined. Govind stood beside my hospital bed and said, "I set it up." He pointed at the cast on my leg and smiled. "You upset Yvette. It's just a broken leg. Better that than watching her cry." I stared at him, stunned, then dug my nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood. He shoved me off without a care. Then he patted my head like he always used to. "Now I get why your parents dumped you at that children's home. With an attitude like yours, you were never gonna be as lovable as Yvette." Yvette was my older sister. Fifteen years ago, I got hurt saving Yvette from a speeding car. She cried to our parents and claimed I'd pushed her. That same night, bruised and bleeding, I was dumped at a children's home. When I'd already given up on everything, Govind showed up and promised he'd protect me for the rest of my life. And now, for her, he was destroying me with his own hands.

My best friend was a D-list influencer who'd blown six months of savings to drag me to a so-called "socialite finishing school." But then the instructor made us slap each other across the face — an "obedience test." I couldn't help it. I laughed. The next second, my friend was blacklisted from the entire circle, and her agent sent a termination notice. The instructor pointed at me and gave my friend an ultimatum: "Get on your knees. Slap her ten times. Then I'll lift the ban." My friend cried, trembling as she walked toward me. I sighed. The billion-dollar inheritance I'd just received — looks like the secret was about to come out.

HUNCHING my shoulders against the cold, I watched my breath mist out in front of me. It was either that or head into the convenience store opposite and grab some cigs, which I couldn’t do. Ma’d already threatened to lop off my head if she caught me stinking of smoke, and while I wasn’t averse to a clipped ear, what with being twenty, I didn’t give much of a anymore. My wrist was , thanks to how many times Da had broken it, and I’d been shot at twice. I could cope with her pulling on my ear like it was stuck on with Velcro. Dealing with Mariska’s repugnance, however, was another matter entirely.

I woke up naked beside a man I hadn’t seen in eight years. Before noon, the scandal was everywhere. By noon, I’d lost my position as CEO, my name, and my marriage. But the worst betrayal wasn’t the headlines. It wasn’t walking in on my husband and my best friend planning my downfall and mocking me. It was finding out the man I loved, my sweetheart of five years, made me a surrogate without my knowledge. The twins I'd been carrying for seven months weren't mine. But it failed to break me. It only made me stronger. After all, I wasn't just a mother—I was a CEO.