Novel & Cerita Tears From A Broken Heart

There was a ten-year gap between me and my sister-in-law, but we got along surprisingly well, especially given that we were both in an absurdly rich family. Then, one day, she came to me, bawling and clutching a photo in her hand. "Your brother is cheating on me! He has a family somewhere else! For more than ten years! I'm getting a divorce!" Crying, I showed her a message I got from my husband's mistress. "That bastard Christopher has a mistress! I'm leaving this home!"

She is one who loves fiercely, but it always ends bad for her lovers. One boy upsets her pattern of love crisis, and she would rather leave him, than destroy him. However, there's more to this than she realizes

On Valentine’s Day, my girlfriend Florence Higgins was rushed to the hospital after accidentally eating undercooked wild mushrooms. Half-conscious on the hospital bed, she murmured, “Michael… I owed you too much. If my family’s company hadn’t been on the brink of collapse, you wouldn’t have left, and I wouldn’t have ended up with Noah.” I am Noah Owens. As for Michael Connor, he was the love of her life. The one she cherished most during her youth. What she seemed to forget was that when her family’s company was about to collapse, Michael had been the first to walk away. During those seven years, I was the one who helped revive her company, the one who stayed by her side. I believed she might eventually have a change of heart, but I never expected her to abort our child for the sake of her first love. At that moment, I finally understood that you can’t force warmth where there is none.

Lilliana Masters is the runt of the pack, calling her a runt would not be doing her justice, she’s barely a wolf. After a pack war kills her family and sends her wolf self into hiding deep within her. At the young age of ten, Lilliana is left with nothing but the hope that her pack- the Waning Moon Pack will continue to be her family. That hope is destroyed by the actions of those she thought were her people. The Waning Moon pack blames the little Lilliana for the death of her family who were the pack’s beta and head healer. Harboring resentment against her, they bully and treat her like a slave for years on end. Another war is on the horizon with the Blood Fang pack- the most powerful pack there is, and during a raid, they kidnap her.  Now in the Blood Fang pack, Lilliana must navigate new pack politics and must come to terms with the fact that she is no longer a slave. She begins her journey of self-discovery and begins to navigate the feelings she seems to have for the Alpha of the Blood Moon pack- Killian Thorne and survive a war that looms on the horizon.

She was born an omega, and they said that meant she was weak. In the cold heart of the Blackridge Pack, Elira lived like a shadow—beaten, silenced, and used by the very people who should have protected her. Even Kael, the Alpha heir she believed to be her fated mate, only ever whispered lies and left her to bleed when she became inconvenient. But death didn’t claim her. A Lycan King did. Lucien is feared across the realm—cold, ruthless, and untouchable. Yet when he finds Elira broken and left for dead, he doesn’t turn away. He saves her. And in his quiet strength, she sees something she never had: respect. Safety. A future. He offers her more than a throne. He offers her the chance to become something more than a discarded omega. But to wear a crown, Elira must rise. She must face the pack that shattered her, confront the mate who betrayed her, and stand as the fierce queen she was never meant to be. Because the moon doesn’t choose the strongest. It chooses the one who survives—and rises.

When Marcus lost the biggest deal to his enemy, Charles, he lost it all. He was angry and went on to lodge in a hotel. Octavia, who had always seen him online, went to serve him. Marcus was drunk and was vulnerable, so was she. They had sex and the next morning, Marcus was furious. He suddenly calmed down when he saw he had two deals which required women to win it. He didn't want to go in search of women because of his hate for them but because of the situation, he proposed a deal to Octavia

“That’s not my baby.” His voice echoed through the room, sharp and cold, slicing through the warm, celebratory atmosphere we’d carefully set up. Everyone went still, and I felt my heart lurch, every beat heavy with disbelief. I stared at him with wide eyes, hoping I’d misheard. “What?” The word barely escaped my lips, a fragile whisper. He didn’t even flinch. “That is not my baby,” he repeated, louder, as if to make sure everyone—his family, all gathered here—would hear. *** Darla was rejected by her fiance three months before her wedding claiming that she was sleeping with other men. She was humiliated and kicked out by his family despite her pregnancy, returning home, she was met with the tragic accident of her whole family. Not only did she lose her family and fiance in one night but she was also found out that her fiance was getting married to his claimed cousin. She vowed to take revenge on them and win back everything that belongs to her.

My mate-to-be, Ethan, said he had some urgent work come up right before our planned full moon trip. He bailed. I was missing him like crazy, so I immediately drove for over ten hours to his city. I hadn’t told Ethan I was coming. There I was, flowers in hand, standing outside his mansion, ready to give my destined mate a sweet surprise. But then I caught the mixed scent of Ethan and another female werewolf. The scent was sickeningly familiar. Amber Collins. Ethan’s ex-mate. I fought back the burn in my nose, my eyes already red, and pushed the door open. And what did I see? Them, sharing a glass of red wine, cuddled up, practically on top of each other. When Ethan finally noticed me, he jerked his arm away from Amber, walked stiffly over, his voice laced with panic. "Scarlett, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Everyone knew Elio Carbone, Don of the Carbone family, was a cold-hearted womanizer. He had one rule: never sleep with the same woman twice. But for me, he broke it. The first day after our breakup, he stood outside the old Bianchi estate for a day and a night, his entire security detail in tow, just to win me back. The second day, he flew to Sicily and bought the deed to my family's ancestral estate at auction for triple its value, and had it delivered to me. The third day, he tattooed my favorite flower, the lily, over his heart. The tattoo artist said he refused any anesthetic and didn't make a sound. Later, at a banquet for the Five Families, in front of all the other Dons, he sliced his palm and made a blood oath. He swore loyalty only to Eleonora Bianchi for the rest of his life; if he broke his vow, he would pay with his life. After a year of his relentless pursuit, his devotion finally wore me down, and I agreed to take him back. I truly believed him then. That Elio truly loved me. Until one night. He took me to an underground racetrack to broker a deal with an ally. But in the roaring crowd, I saw a girl, trembling and crying, her clothes in tatters. Ava was shoved to the starting line. She was the wager for the death race. One look was all it took for Elio's face to darken. The next second, he dropped his hand from my waist and, without a word, walked toward the track entrance. I stood frozen, watching his back as he disappeared into the driver's seat of a modified sports car. I used to wake up crying, terrified he would lose his life in one of these reckless races. He had smashed his trophies, burned his marker for the illegal track, and sworn to God he would never again enter such a life-or-death gamble. My hand drifted to my stomach, covering the secret I hadn't yet had the chance to share. His blood oath was broken. And so was I.

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."