Novel & Cerita Turn Left Turn Right

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older sisters brought home a fifteen-year-old orphaned boy. My Alpha sister seized the rare healing herbs I'd spent all my savings on — herbs meant to ease my first shift — and gave them to him instead. "You're strong enough," she growled. "You don't need such precious herbs." My Beta sister snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. "Get out! Don't come back!" I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left. They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I'd return in a few days. My sisters, finally free of my presence, took the orphan boy on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted an offer from the neighboring pack's Head Healer. The position required fifteen years of isolated herbal research. I could never return home. That night, they fell apart.

They say fated mates are sacred, practically unbreakable. But Aiden wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his. That didn’t stop me from loving him like he was the last man left in this cursed world. He swore he didn’t need a bond to love me. Said it was pure. Said he’d love me unconditionally. Said he’d choose me—always. But now he’s in our bed, moaning another woman’s name like a prayer. Wearing a forbidden pendant laced in black magic—magic strong enough to block the mate bond so I wouldn’t feel the betrayal. Too late, Aiden. I felt it. Like a dagger slicing straight through my soul. And just as I hit rock bottom, he shows up. A young, enigmatic Alpha—feared, powerful, far too young for me. Alpha Damon. He’s asking questions about illegal mate bond magic. Magic my husband used to cheat without consequences. Magic that ties back to a dark conspiracy. Turns out, my perfect little marriage is just the rotten tip of a magic-smuggling empire. Damon wants my help. Needs me close. Says I’m the only one who knows enough to crack this wide open. But every time he says my name, something in me stirs, something I swore was long dead. I shouldn’t want him. I couldn't him. He’s too young. Too dangerous. Too…everything. But goddess help me—he’s the first man who’s ever looked at me like I wasn’t something broken. Like I wasn’t disposable. Like I was worth fighting for.

The day before my engagement to Dean was announced, his childhood sweetheart falsely claimed I had broken her fingers when she was playing the piano. Dean flew into a rage and made me join the medical relief team in Loasia. Now that I was abandoned with just the clothes on my back, I had no choice but to fend for myself. Not long after, I was informed that he was getting married. Everyone bet that I would fly back to steal him away. After all, I had been head over heels in love with him. However, I never appeared even at the end of the wedding. I didn't even call him. I had vanished into thin air. … Five years later... A man, heavily injured from a car crash, arrived at the emergency department. His significant other demanded that he be operated on by the hospital director. I calmly held up my scalpel in the operating theatre, my face hidden behind a surgical mask. "Administer the anesthesia." Before he could be sedated, the man suddenly grabbed my wrist. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he demanded weakly, "Eve, is that you?" I pulled his hand away from mine and shot the anesthetist a look. "The patient is aggravated. Increase the dosage."

After my mate, Drew Bruce, vanished from the pack warzone, I cared for his gravely ill parents in his stead for three years. In the end, he returns with his wolf missing and a young she-wolf by his side. He begs for the Alpha King to break our mate bond. Drew taunts me, "Jenny Watson, your peaceful life in the pack is thanks to my bloodshed on the battlefield. You'll never be someone like Sherry Lowe, an outstanding physiotherapist, who can fight alongside me. "It's a good thing our mind link has disappeared ever since I lost my wolf. Being with Sherry made me realize how dull you are. "You're useless. If it weren't for the Moon Goddess' guidance, you would've never been worthy of being my mate." When his parents find out, instead of talking him out of it, they fully support his decision. They completely disregard the dedication and sincerity I showed them over three years. Heartbroken, I turn and leave for the field hospital. He has no idea that I come from a long line of healers. When I earn the title of chief field healer with nothing but my own skill, he goes mad with regret.

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

"I wore my sister’s diamond ring to survive. I never planned to steal her monster of a husband." ---- "You disgust me, Serena. Don’t think for a second this ring means I won’t ruin you." Those were the first words Julian Cross ever spoke to me. My twin sister, Serena, had it all—the glamour, the billion-dollar inheritance, and Julian, the ruthless, untouchable king of the city’s underworld. I was the hidden twin, a secret our family buried in the shadows to protect their perfect image. While she wore diamonds, I dealt cards in an underground casino just to survive. Until the night Serena vanishes, leaving behind no trace of her whereabout. With a fragile corporate empire on the verge of collapse, my family gives me a deadly ultimatum: step into Serena’s designer heels, wear her wedding ring, and fool her terrifying husband. Just until they find her. I thought the hardest part would be pretending to know a world of wealth I'd never touched. I was wrong. The hardest part is surviving Julian. He and Serena didn't just have a loveless marriage; they were locked in a venomous war. But when I don't flinch at his cruelty, when my street-smart instincts take over and I fight back instead of cowering, the cold hatred in Julian’s eyes shifts into something more dangerous. Obsession. "You used to beg for my attention, Serena. You used to cry when I ignored you." He said. "You used to bore me to death," he murmured, "Now? I can't figure you out. It's driving me insane." But in Julian's world, every lie has a price. The closer he gets, the closer he is to realizing I'm a fraud. And then, the phone rings. It’s Serena. And she wants her husband back.

Warning: Mature Content Shock, cold and absolute, rippled through me. My jaw dropped. “Owned? I am not an object! You can’t just—” His dark chuckle cut me off. It was a chilling sound, devoid of warmth. “Oh, but I do, little bird. You became mine the moment your dear brother, Carlos, sold you to clear his debts. Along with almost all the shares in your father’s company.” The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp. What was he talking about? That couldn't be true, yet the look in his eyes said otherwise. He had sold me like an object, like chattel. Rage, raw and unadulterated, surged through me, eclipsing the fear for a fleeting moment. I tried to push past him, to escape and to run anywhere but his hand shot out, grabbing me by the neck, not quite choking but enough to hold me in an iron grip. He pinned me to the wall, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning with an intense possessive fire. “You now belong to Lorenzo Blackwood,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You are mine. To possess. To claim. To own.”

“You’re a liar. And a coward. And you broke me twice.” I laughed—hollow, bitter. Then bent to pick up the torn pieces of the file. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for the same man twice in one lifetime. If this was a dream, it was a cruel one. When I walked past him, I didn’t look back. “I know I hurt you,” he said behind me, his voice low and raw. “But I never stopped loving you… not even for a single day.” --- They were never supposed to end up together...again, but fate had other plans. Alina has always been the unwanted twin—the quiet, overlooked sister living in the shadow of her perfect twin. So when her father faces financial ruin, he makes a chilling decision: marry one of his daughters off to save the family name. The groom? A powerful, mysterious heir hidden from the public eye. The chosen bride? Alina’s stunning sister. But at the last moment, her father switches them. Now, Alina finds herself married to a man she doesn’t know—yet strangely feels drawn to. A man who might just remember her from a forgotten moment in their past. As sparks begin to fly, she finds herself falling in love with a familiar stranger again. But dark secrets begin to unfold—and a family desperate to reclaim their “true” daughter fights dirty. She was never supposed to be the bride. But she just might be the woman he’s waited for all along.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.