Novel & Cerita The Altar Where I Left My Alpha

I was engaged to Silas, Don of the Vance Famiglia, yet in the annual family portrait, I was shoved into the back corner. Standing right beside him was Camilla, his most trusted Capo. He sighed impatiently. "We have plenty of photos together, Scarlett. Missing one won't kill you. You're the future Donna. Stop being so petty." I swallowed my pride and gave up my spot. But my compromise bought me nothing. The necklace meant for me ended up around Camilla's neck. His plus-one to galas became Camilla. His excuse was always the same: "She's a vital part of the syndicate. You shouldn't compete with her." So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I stopped being petty. I shredded the wedding planner I had poured my heart into, trashed our photos, and left New York for good. And suddenly, the cold, calculating Don was tearing the city apart looking for me.

Nova Greyveil was born to lead her pack, and to prove it, she beat every fighter her father threw at her, only to be told her future is a marriage deal she never agreed to: Marry the Alpha King. So she rejected him and disappeared. Disguised as “Ash Darvin", she sneaks into Vordrak Academy, a ruthless all-male training ground where alphas are built, broken, and buried. One slip means exposure. Exposure means death. She thought surviving Vordrak would be the hard part. Then she meets Caden Voss. Cold. Precise. Dangerous. The academy’s strongest fighter and the only one who keeps looking at her like he can see straight through the mask she’s wearing and to top it off, he is her roommate. The longer she stays, the harder it gets to hide. Not just her identity, but what his presence is doing to her. Because in Vordrak, secrets don’t stay hidden. And neither does desire.

After an unexpected miscarriage, I left my ward in search of Victor. I saw him inside the doctor’s office. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I overheard their conversation. “Give my wife a hysterectomy. I don’t need her to bear me any children.” Victor Gayes pulled the woman beside him to face the doctor, his hand rubbing her belly. “The baby inside her belly will be my only child. You must protect it no matter what.” I knew the woman very well. She was Victor’s secretary of three years, Rachel Aniston. Victor reminded the doctor again and again, sternly and anxiously. “You have to give her the best medicine. I won’t allow anything to go wrong with this baby!” I pulled my hand back, all my blood running cold. To think Victor would do something so heartless to me, just after I lost our baby. To think my faith in him would become a dagger, stabbed straight into my heart. If love had another face, it would probably be letting these feelings go with a smile.

"Don't you think that skirt is short for you?" She says, changing the subject and taking another long hit from her blunt. Since when does she care about my clothing? Besides it's not like it's affecting anyone, so why does it matter? "Um, no. Why do you care anyways?" I ask suspiciously, while looking down at my skirt. It's not even short. "People are looking at you in there, and maybe it's because of what you're wearing," She throws her blunt on the ashtray that she has, and turns her attention on me staring fiercely into my eyes. "Why does it matter? It's not like it's a bad thing." I say, now worried at this point. I don't know what's going through her mind as she comes closer to me, again my back is against the wall beside the balcony railing. "It is a bad thing because it seems everyone in there wants to fuck you, and for some damn reason it's bothering me." Heaven says lowly, barely audible. ----- Hatred. Despite. Mixed feelings. Read to find out about Valentina and Heavens relationship, which starts off as despiteful, then turns into something pure.

"You guys know what the situation is like in this industry this year. I need to cut our end-of-the-year bonus by half in order to overcome this difficult period." My boss, Peter Hurley, claims that things are difficult in the industry right now, yet his wrist still showcases the luxury watch that he's just bought. My 20,000-dollar bonus is reduced to 700 dollars. In addition, I also received a plaque that says "Award for Outstanding Contribution". "This plaque is worth a lot, Soren. It represents the acknowledgement this company has for you. Don't be so petty when it comes to money." As I stare at the plaque in my hand, I can't help but scoff furiously. "Fine. I won't be that petty when it comes to money. I hope you won't be that petty either when you're paying next month's rent." Peter is stunned momentarily. "What do you mean by that?" I toss the plaque into the trash can. "What I mean is, I'm the landlord of this building. From next month onward, the rent will be increased ten times. If you refuse to accept the new rent, you can pack up and scram."

For five years, I've been the perfect Luna in the eyes of Ian Stormfang, the Alpha of the Shadowmoon pack. But then, he starts favoring an Omega called Perla Blackwood and allows her to carve her name beside the silver moon tattoo over his heart. That tattoo had once been the mark of the vow he made with his soul to love me forever. The members of the pack mock me for being naive in love. They are all waiting to watch me lose control in hysterics. Perla even sends me a message, urging me to step aside. She writes, "Alpha Ian says he's bored of you. Even in bed, you only know two positions—front and back. I'm right, aren't I, my noble Luna?" I do not bother to reply at all. Instead, I send a message to the rogue at the border. I text, "Help me leave the pack and make sure Alpha Ian can never find me again."

Elena (21) gets pregnant after accidentally entering the private room of the most powerful and cold-hearted man in the city—Alexander Kingston (28). Drunk and blinded by memories of the woman he once loved, Alexander mistakes Elena for his lost love and spends the night with her. Because of the pregnancy, Alexander is forced to marry Elena—even though he does not want her. Convinced that Elena deliberately trapped him by sneaking into his room, Alexander believes she is nothing more than a gold-digger who used a one-night mistake to secure wealth and status. To him, the marriage is temporary. Once she gives birth to his child, she must leave. “I hate you. A woman like you doesn’t deserve to be my wife. Sign the divorce papers. After you give birth to my child, you will leave this house.” — Alexander Kingston (28) Pregnant and humiliated, Elena realizes she was never a wife in his eyes—only a tool chosen to bear an heir. But what happens when the truth comes out—and Elena was never guilty, never scheming, never trying to trap him? In a cold and unwanted marriage, Elena’s quiet strength and beauty slowly make it impossible for Alexander to ignore his growing feelings. Yet by the time he realizes his mistake… Elena has already given up and walked away. Will Alexander Kingston finally learn the true cost of regret?

To help my "destitute" husband pay off his debts, I scavenged for scraps for five years. My son and I survived on expired canned food. That changed on my son's birthday. I saw him in a bespoke suit, spending millions to celebrate the birthday of the woman he truly loved. That was the moment I realized he was actually the most powerful billionaire on Wall Street. To please the love of his life, he let our child be injected with unknown drugs, leaving him on the brink of death. He even forced me to drain my own blood to save her son. Later, I became someone he could no longer reach. I linked arms with a man far more powerful than him and walked away. That once arrogant man ended up kneeling in the Arctic snow, clutching a photo I had burned, weeping like a stray dog.

At the engagement party, the champagne tower is only half-built when Marcus Harrison answers a phone call. He glances at me and says, "I have to go. Lily collapsed at the airport." I say, "If you leave, we're done." He leaves anyway, in front of 200 guests. He carries Lily Bardot in his arms, wearing the coat I gave him, as he drives away in my car. The next day, he sends me an email that reads, "Lily will be moving into my apartment. She needs me, and I hope you can understand. Once Lily gets better, we'll get married. Please trust me." I stare at the screen and suddenly laugh. So what he wants isn't someone who loves him. It's someone who needs him. And I'm too independent, so I don't make the cut. That evening, I scroll through my contacts and find a number I've never given a second glance to. It belongs to someone who's been waiting for me for 23 years. I dial it. "Tomorrow night, 7:00 pm. Meet me at the restaurant by the sea."

My fiancé of eight years moved in with the junior he was mentoring. She was young, pretty, knew how to play helpless, and knew exactly what she was doing. He'd down every toast meant for her—the same nights he let me get talked into drinking until I nearly died. He sat with her through her depression, fetched her water, fed her by hand. And me? I was alone in a hospital bed, burning with a 104-degree fever. He set her up on a pedestal and never noticed I'd been ground into the dirt. The day they discharged me, I didn't scream. I didn't fall apart. I went home, quietly packed a suitcase, and burned every memory that had his name on it. Later I heard the famous CEO of Washington Group showed up at his fiancée's door with millions of dollars in gifts. He found an empty apartment. And he lost his mind.