When Did Unforgettable Come Out Novels & Stories

Bethany Cole and Shane Stafford were supposed to get married in two weeks, but Shane was thinking about postponing the wedding again. It was all because his stepsister, Yelena White, had another episode and was crying for him to drop everything and take her to Maldivea to see the ocean. The wedding had been planned for two years, and Bethany had had enough. If Shane did not want to get married, she would find someone else to take his place.

On the day my daughter is discharged from the hospital after recovering from the flu, I run into my ex-husband, Zachary Levine, whom I have been divorced from for seven years. He is there to pick up his wife, who has just given birth. He looks a little surprised as his gaze moves up and down to take in my clothes, which is still stained from my child's vomit. I had no time to change out of it earlier. "Long time no see. How have you been lately?" he asks. I smile and say I am doing fine. As we are about to part, he grabs my arm. "Alyssa, our son misses you a lot. If you are having any difficulties, don't push yourself. The passcode for the house in the north of the city is still your birthday. You can go there anytime." I politely decline, and he lets out a sigh. "After all these years, you are still as stubborn as you were back then. Don't hate me." I smile but say nothing. There needs to be love for there to be hate. But now, he is just a stranger to me.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

Broken and shattered, Andre Torello contemplated suicide. Love failed him, it pierced his heart and left him bleeding. There's nothing left to hold on to, nothing is left when love has failed him. His fiancee left him, she kept him waiting while she walked the aisle with a richer man. He thought love was stronger than wealth and riches, he'd always believed that nothing can break love but it's all a fallacy. But what if love is waiting at the door? What if all he needed to do was glance in a different direction, but it was too late, Andre concluded. There's no love anywhere again. He'd been shattered by love; he is not ready to give in to its deception anymore. Love is cruel. But more than a lost love, something else was waiting, a throne and a lover and Andre Torello had only one option, accept it or get ruined forever.

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.

To help cover our household expenses, I often sold second-hand items online. Late one night, a new listing suddenly appeared under my husband's account. [Private trainer for sale. Almost new. Obedient and resilient. No upkeep required. Cash only.] The attached photo showed a woman from behind, caught in the middle of a yoga pose. The red mole at her waist stood out clearly. It was me. The comments section erupted within seconds. Men with usernames like 'LocalHunter' started bidding aggressively. [Five hundred. Thirty minutes. Pickup only. No negotiations.] [Are you kidding? Two thousand. All night. I'll bring my own gear.] My husband immediately replied to the highest bidder: Adrian 'The Butcher' Kane. [Deal. She's in the bedroom. The door isn't locked. Go straight in.] In the next moment, the bedroom doorknob slowly began to turn from the other side.

After living under the same roof with his in-laws for four devastating years, Zayn Larson finally realized who it was that made all his sacrifices worthwhile. One day he would return the top, and none would stand in his way. It was all because he had his true love who wanted to lay in his arms beneath the sparkling sky.

After whiskey, betrayal, and the undeniable urge to spite her cheating, gay ex, Maeve Summers had a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger. Six years later, former detective turned journalist Maeve is horrified to discover he was Aurelian Morgenstein, the mysterious mafia lord she must interview to save her crumbling career. With piercing blue eyes and a jet-black serpent tattoo coiling around his hand, Elian is every bit as tempting as he is dangerous. Especially when her five-year-old daughter, Sia, shares his infamous gaze. Now, Maeve must decide what’s more at risk: her career, her heart, or the truth about Sia’s father.

After being betrayed and left behind by her ex-lover, Zara told herself that she won’t fall in love again. But when she crossed path with Kestrel, the wall that she was trying to build slowly crumbled. But would it be right for her to love him when she took something precious from him and caused his misery? *** Zara Ruiz was the type of person who’s willing to do everything for the person she loved. So when her boyfriend, Matt accidentally killed a woman in a hit-and-run, she took the blame for it and was imprisoned. Four years after, Zara was determined to find her Matt who left her and vanished while also trying to start a new life. Unable to find a job, she decided to work as a maid for Kestrel de Silva—President of JP Investment Corp., one of the largest conglomerate in the Philippines. Kestrel, who hadn’t opened his heart to anyone after the death of his lover soon found himself slowly falling in love with Zara. But love wasn’t that easy and Zara soon found out Kestrel’s connection to her dark past. Does she still have the right to love him after the pain she had caused him? And with the sudden appearance of Matt, Zara is determined to take off his facade and drag him down.

My fiancé's junior colleague went around the hospital every day calling herself "the best girl". When a patient with acute appendicitis was admitted, she mistakenly prescribed laxatives instead of proper treatment. The patient nearly went into shock and died. After the hospital was reported by the patient's family, she simply smiled and said, "I don't even need a supervising doctor to prescribe medication anymore. I'm such a good girl!" On another occasion, she failed to order routine pre-op blood work for a surgical patient. During the procedure, a visiting senior surgeon was exposed and later contracted HIV. She actually puffed out her chest and said, "Even if everyone had to stay up all night helping me save the doctor, I'm still the best girl!" I protested more than once and urged my fiancé to dismiss her. He refused every time. He brushed it off with a laugh, saying "this good girl" just needed time and experience. Then, a prominent patient was transferred from a military hospital for surgery. She secretly tampered with the medical records, switching the pathology findings from the left lung to the right. She even revised the surgical plan, recommending removal of the patient's completely healthy right lung. Luckily, I caught the mistake in time, restored the correct pathology report, and performed the surgery successfully. After the patient recovered, he asked for our team to be recognized. To my disbelief, Elena Bakers ran to my fiancé in tears. "I wrote the entire report by myself! All by myself! I'm the best little girl! "Why do you always take credit away from me? It took so much courage for this little girl to be brave just once! "You're all horrible!" Elena stormed out of the hospital and was struck and killed by a car on the spot. My fiancé did not say a word. However, on the very day I was appointed hospital director, he produced falsified evidence accusing me of altering records and causing multiple medical accidents to advance my career. I was arrested, tried, and sentenced to death. As the verdict was delivered, he looked at me with unmistakable satisfaction. "You'll never make up for what you owe Elena. Not in this lifetime." When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Elena altered the surgical plan.