Then We Held Hands Novels & Stories

When my son and I were exiled for my family's crimes, my husband shoved divorce papers into my hands and cut all ties. I pulled my nine-year-old close and swore I would protect him no matter what. However, at dawn, when we were supposed to leave, I found a different child in his place. Panic flooded through me. Then, strange text flickered into view: [The male lead paid 50 silver for a street boy who looks vaguely similar. He sent his real son to live in luxury with his beloved!] [This cannon fodder ex-wife will waste her life searching for her real son, who'll only resent her for ruining his comfortable new life.] [Once the lead couple rises to power, she'll conveniently 'fall ill' and die. Tragic, really.] [Wait. That street boy is the deposed crown prince's orphan. The future emperor!] I stood there for a moment, taking it in. Then, I crouched down and held out my hand to the scarred child trembling before me. "Come with mom, little one. It's time to go."

“Don't come closer. There is no way I will let you have me again” he pulls him even closer, ignoring every word Reece just spilled. As always his signature grin on his face. He was so close in a way Reece could feel his warm breath and the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. His grip tightened around his ass giving it a little squeeze. “Hmm,” a little moan escapes Reece’s throat. He quickly held his hands over his mouth preventing further provocation. He was hard again, the man before him realized a trump smile. Reece may fight and talk trash, but for some reason, he obeys the man's every touch and provocation. He was like a lap rat in the hands of his abuser. The hands around his waist gently loosened up, letting him free, but before he could register what was happening, his hands slid down into his jeans ``no.. not again!!!

I knew my husband, Giovanni Rossini, had done it. He had stolen his dead twin brother's identity and faked his own death. And I said nothing. In my last life, he had discarded me and our daughter, Natalia, for his mistress, Katrina Moretti. My mother-in-law, Antonietta, called us trash and forced my five-year-old to peel olives until her small hands blistered. I knelt and begged for money to buy medicine. Giovanni only held Katrina and laughed. In the end, Natalia and I froze and starved to death. Even as we died, Katrina's mocking voice still rang in my ears. Everyone watched with cold eyes. They closed ranks, shifted the blame onto me, and shoved us toward a dead end with no escape. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back at the exact moment they carried Marco's body into the warehouse. This time, I wouldn't let anyone destroy us. I would make them pay twice over for everything they had done to me and my daughter.

The day after the new year, during a family gathering, my aunt sneered at me as I worked overtime, reviewing a proposal. "Why are you pretending to be so busy? It’s not like we don’t know you only make three thousand a month. Real money-makers are people like my daughter, a designer so successful she doesn’t even have time to come home!" I ignored her, but she directed her spoiled son to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. My hands trembled with rage. "This proposal is due in ten minutes—if I don’t submit it, everything is ruined!" She scoffed dismissively. "He’s just a kid. What could he possibly know? Besides, your job isn’t even worth much. If you lose the files, you lose them. Worst case, you get fired." I chuckled coldly but said nothing. She had no idea it was the proposal her daughter had spent an entire month working on. And I was the client who held her daughter’s fate in my hands.

What will you do when you are fucking in love with someone who doesn't love you back and then woke up the next day forced to marry another girl you don't even know or love? "Where the hell have you been, Hannah?" I turned around as she yelled from my back, full of hate in her eyes, grabbing my arm, pulling me inside, and laying me on the couch violently. I was shocked by her presumption. "You're still my fucking wife, Hannah. You're mine, don't ever forget that," she leaned on me as she held both my hands, feeling her grip trembling in rage. I was motionless and speechless. "What? is she great? Is she making you cum more than me? Are you not satisfied with my performance? I can do it again, you fucking whore" her face was dark, her voice cracking and hatred in every word she spits out. She forcibly slips her finger inside my andies and strokes my pussy, feeling my wetness. I slapped her hard. I was hurt by what she said. I could never imagine those words coming out from her. Where's the Ally I have known? Everything is my fault. I can't blame her if she started to treat me this way. I might hurt her ego. Even though we agreed not to intrude on others' lives still, it's not going to work the way we want it to. "Fucked Hannah, you are my wife. I can do whatever I want!" she shouted as she ripped my clothes and held me tighter. Ally got even angrier when I slapped her, struggling, but I didn't have a match for her. Ally kissed me forcibly and started to touch me out of love, stroking my breast, playing her fingers into my clit, burning with lust.

At a party, everyone sees Claire's joke. His fiance, chosen mate, walks past her with the ring and gets down on one knee in front of her stepsister. What the hell is going on here? "Joe and I are together now. Because we are each other's fated mates." Her stepsister said triumphantly. "We know you're hurting, but Cathy is your sister. You should bless them. Your sister will be the next luna, not you." Said her father coldly. In an instant, she changed from a happy girl to a poor person who had been abandoned and betrayed. "How dare you do this to me?" Desperate, she looked up and saw Prince Louis, who was also at the party. Although appealing directly to a member of the royal family would have been punishable, Claire had no choice. "Your Highness, I beg you to do justice and disinherit them. I claim my right." The crowd held their breath as they watched the murderous prince rumored to have killed his brother. He approached me with a dark look. I closed my eyes and waited for my punishment. But I felt big hands around my waist. He buried his head in my neck, took a deep breath, and said in a deep voice. "You are a very smart and brave girl. I can help you, but I want something else in return." I ran into a hug, his scent all around me. I didn't know, until this moment, that I was in even bigger trouble.

On New Year's Eve, my husband, Max Davis, took me to a private dinner hosted by a big industry player. We had barely made our way around the room when a strange woman suddenly shoved me into the pool. When I insisted on checking the surveillance footage and calling the police, Max firmly held me back. He warned me to "remember my place" and not embarrass him in front of everyone. In the brief time I changed into another gown, I returned to find that same woman perched on my husband's lap, her red lipstick leaving traces on his collar. "Max, you're right! That nasty scar on her stomach really does look like a centipede. It's so hideous!" She giggled with mock innocence, adding, "It's been so fun messing with your wife. Next time, can I slap her when no one's looking?" Meanwhile, Max gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world, gently tracing his finger over her nose. "Of course, you can," he replied, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll even tie her hands behind her back for you."

My grandmother didn't have much time left. Before she passed away, she entrusted me to my boyfriend, Hunter Jones. As we held hands with our fingers interlaced, he promised to register our marriage in front of my grandmother's sickbed. However, the day after we registered our marriage, Sarah Moore, Hunter's female colleague, posted a picture of a marriage certificate with her and Hunter's names on it. There was a caption, stating, 'I know you have no choice but to agree to marry her. But as long as I'm the person you love most, I'm satisfied with only one month.' I went to find Hunter, intending to question him about what was going on. Instead, I overheard him chatting with his friend. "I'm indebted to Audrey's grandmother. I promised her that I would take care of Audrey for the rest of my life, so I have to take responsibility for her. As for Sarah, I can die without regrets if I can be her husband for a month in this life." His friend laughed and said, "Poor Audrey White. Aren't you afraid she'll get angry and run away when she finds out that the marriage certificate you got her was fake?" Hunter fell silent for a moment. "She will never find out. I'll just tell her that there was an error in the registration system and that we need to re-register. Audrey trusts me so much. She won't suspect anything," he added. However, his plans shattered when he tried to contact me to re-register our marriage. That was because he received my wedding gift for him, along with a wish that he and Sarah would have a long and happy life instead.

Elena is a selfless young woman married to an abusive man. When he tries to kill her one morning, Elena decides to take fate into her own hands; she runs away at night. Instead of finding freedom, she falls into the hands of four ruthless Alphas. She thinks that they are her saviors but everything goes to hell when they demand something she cannot possibly give: her soul. Elena is the perfect sacrifice to break the curse that has held the four Alphas back for so long. What she doesn’t know is that breaking the curse will cost more than her life. Her soul will be trapped forever. Not only is she the perfect sacrifice, she is also the fated mate of the four Alphas and the last heir of a special bloodline!

The head which was expected to be held high to bear the crown of a princess, was bowed down in fear. The eyes which always saw love and care were forced to see blood and tears. The lips which were always smiling were quivering with horror and nightmare. The hands which were always held by her parents for safety and care, were now alone to shudder rapidly in fear. With time all wounds disappeared but their marks continued to boil her blood in vengeance for those who brought her here. The royal blood running in her veins will not let her stop till she has punished all those who played unfair. The girl was Ezra Grey Allistair and she was going to be everyone's worst nightmare. With eyes as blue as thunder and hair as dark as night. She was the resurrection of the strongest known wolf to exist. She was the thunder wolf. *Could be read stand alone.