Novel & Cerita Things We Left Unfinished

Three years ago, my husband’s brother took a bullet for him. So Gwen brought his brother's widow, Eliza, into our home. I was the Donna in name only. I had to step aside for Eliza in everything. Once, Eliza faked slitting her wrists. She said I drove her to it. Gwen grabbed my throat. Murder flashed in his eyes. "Get out. The Falcone family has no place for a venomous bitch like you." He gave her the family's art foundation to "make it up to her." It was supposed to be mine. This time, I said nothing. He was signing a stack of business contracts. I just slipped the divorce papers in with them. A few days later, he noticed I wasn't home. He searched all over Chicago. He couldn't find me. That's when he saw the divorce decree. He finally understood. I was gone. For good. That day, the untouchable king of the Chicago Outfit… shattered.

My Alpha fiancé made me drink a witch's memory potion on our mating ceremony day so he could bond with my stepsister instead. "Serena is under a vicious curse. Only bonding with a powerful Alpha can break it." "Aria, you're the only one I love. I don't want to hurt you, so if you drink this memory potion, you'll temporarily forget the person you love most. Once I help Serena break her curse, you can take the antidote and recover your memories." "Then I'll break the bond with Serena and make you the most honored Luna of our pack." I didn't hesitate. I drank the entire vial in one gulp. But he didn't know the witch never created a corresponding antidote. In seven days, I would forget him forever.

I spent five years helping my boyfriend Marco rise to the position of Don. I nearly died countless times, but I didn't care; I loved him. He used to look at me tenderly and promised to propose to me publicly at his Don succession ceremony. But on that very day, he held the hand of another Mafia Principessa Sophia Romano and announced their engagement. To completely get rid of me, Sophia pulled a stack of photos from her bag and slammed them into my face. "See for yourself! She's been sleeping around to get intel!" In the picture, I was leaning into a man's arms. I tried to explain, but Marco interrupted me. "I always knew you were lowborn, but I didn't realize you were this cheap." "Get out!" Marco pointed at the door. "Elena, you are exiled from the family. Never let me see you again." I finally saw this man for who he truly was. He was completely subservient to me when he needed my help to seize territory, but after becoming the Godfather, he needed a more distinguished Donna, and therefore no longer needed me. I sneered; they had no idea that the man in the picture was my brother, the Don of the most powerful Corleone family. Sophia’s family was nothing compared to the Corleone family. I stopped arguing and simply turned and left. But when my true identity was finally exposed, he crawled back to me, weeping and begging for my forgiveness.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

When I was eighteen, Kael pulled my sister and me out of a rogue auction ring on the northern border. From that day on, I fought for him, bled for him, and helped him carve out his place among the northern packs. By the time his name carried weight across the borderlands, everyone knew I was the one who stood closest to his power. I thought that one day, he might finally look at me and see more than a weapon at his side. Then he brought home a soft-spoken Omega named Liora. “Mira, look at you. Covered in blood again.” “Wash up before you frighten Liora.” After that, everything changed. The pack began calling her future Luna. Kael took my blades away, tied an apron around my waist, and made me responsible for her every need. Whenever she slipped into places she should not have been, got hurt, and claimed I had frightened her out of jealousy, Kael believed her. Every punishment came with a reason. Neat enough to sound fair. Sharp enough to hurt. I accepted all of it. Because years ago, when I asked how I could repay him for saving my sister and me, Kael had said: “You want to repay me?” “Then do one hundred things for me.” I lowered my eyes to the yellowing notebook in my hands. Only three were left. When I finished them, I would owe him nothing. And then I would leave.

For ten years, I spent by Damien Thorne's side, helping him transform from a servant's son into the powerful Alpha of Shadow Pack. I believed I would eventually see the day he'd claim me as his mate. Instead, he brought home Scarlett Rivers, his childhood sweetheart who had been living abroad, treating her like precious royalty while making her his Luna. To help his beloved Scarlett and free her parents from prison, Damien handed over my healing potion patents without hesitation. Even my own son was placed in Scarlett's care to secure her position as Shadow Pack's Luna. I became everything to Damien—his financial backer, his assistant, his healer, his bed partner—everything except what I truly wanted to be: his rightful mate. "Just wait a little longer," Damien always promised me. "Once I repay my debt to my childhood benefactor, you'll be my only mate." So, I kept waiting and waiting. But Damien seemed to forget his promises entirely. Even my own child began to despise me. Suddenly, exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave. Waiting felt pointless. I didn't want to do it anymore.

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."

Anya Moore is a pop sensation with lots of people who look up to her, though her passion is something else. Sadie Ozoa wants to chase her dreams and doesn’t want to take no for an answer, but it feels like she doesn’t have a choice. But unexpected decisions they made had created unfaithful circumstances that have brought two different individuals together. Next unthinkable move: run as far away from the situation that could have led to their wishes. They don’t know how they ended up walking together and they don’t know why. But all they want to do is to escape from the environment they were surrounded in. Anya and Sadie thought they would be distant but with every step they took, they started to know so much about each other and what they have one thing in common: they hated how the world has become. They then thought what if they rebuild Earth where it is all ruled by them--and only both of them. The two then thought what if we start to make it a reality? As they go on the journey to create their own world, Anya sees that Sadie is more than an outcast and Sadie sees that Anya is more than just a star--they are each other’s world. But with the world that is against their odds, will they be able to show their truth? In this first debut comes a coming-of-age story about realizing that in order to survive the world, you must choose whether to follow the rules or break them for the sake of doing something right.

At seventeen, love feels infinite and endings feel impossible. Arielle never planned to fall in love during her final year of high school. Noah never planned to let his guard down. But when quiet glances turn into late conversations and unspoken feelings surface, they find themselves caught in a connection neither of them is ready to name or walk away from. Set against the fragile edge of senior year, Promises We Made at Seventeen is a slow-burn, dual-POV romance about first love, fear, and the weight of choices made too young to fully understand, yet too deep to ignore. As expectations, rumors, and the future press in, Arielle and Noah must decide whether honesty is worth the risk and whether promises made before adulthood can survive what comes after. Tender, dramatic, and emotionally raw, this story explores what it means to love someone while still learning who you are, and how some promises no matter how small can change the course of a lifetime.