When Did Unus Annus End Novels & Stories

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.

Jeremy Hansen throws a divorce agreement at Joanna Thompson on the day she finds out she's pregnant with twins. He also gives her 300 million dollars as their breakup fee. Why? Because his true love is back in the country! Joanna doesn't kick a fuss or throw a tantrum. She takes the money and moves out of their marital home without argument. She doesn't expect Jeremy to be so cruel, though—he wants her to abort the children. Why should she listen to him? "You're not going to abort them, huh?" Jeremy sneers. "Do you think we won't have to go through with the divorce if you're still pregnant with my children?" Joanna sneers back at him. A few days later, she accidentally miscarries. After being discharged from the hospital, she and Jeremy finalize the divorce. Three years later, the paparazzi capture Joanna on a street abroad while holding onto a pair of adorable boy-girl twins. Jeremy stares at the photo as his eyes slowly redden. Then, he flies abroad at top speed to stand in Joanna and the twins' way. "You've played me for three years, Joanna! It's high time that you stop with this tantrum." She takes off her sunglasses and raises a nonchalant eyebrow. "Sorry, but who are you?"

I had been on a business trip overseas for less than six months when I suddenly received a call from the hospital. "Mr. Jones, your wife is having a difficult labor. Should we proceed with a C-section or try to continue with a natural delivery?" The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood there, frozen. When I left, my wife had not shown any sign of pregnancy. How could she be giving birth less than six months later? I quickly dialed her number. The moment the call connected, I heard her cries of pain. "Honey, what's wrong?" From the other end of the line, I could hear a nurse urging her to push harder. However, my wife forced her voice to sound calm. "Sweetheart, I just slipped and fell a moment ago. It's nothing serious. You should keep focusing on your business trip. Don't worry about me." As I listened, the faint sound of a baby crying filtered through the phone. My grip tightened so hard around the phone that it nearly cracked. "Is that so? Then, get some rest," I said calmly. After hanging up, I immediately called my father, the richest man in the country. "Dad, Rebecca's cheating on me. She's in the delivery room right now, having another man's child. Stop all investments in the Harris family immediately. I want her thrown out with nothing to her name."

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 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.

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer and needed a total gastrectomy. My husband, who was hailed as a rising star in the medical field, personally performed the surgery on me. However, after the operation, my health only worsened. He told me that the cancer had spread too quickly, and there was no hope left. It was not until I accidentally came across a hidden medical report and a massive insurance policy that I learned the truth—I never had stomach cancer. Not only had he removed my stomach, but he had also taken my uterus. Desperate, I confronted him, asking why he did that to me. He held his mistress in his arms, looking at me with disgust as he said, "If your father weren't the director, do you think I would've married you? You're not even worthy of being in the same room as Mabel. After one more surgery to remove your stomach, I'll be promoted to chief physician. "Didn't you claim to love me so much? I'm just using your body to help me and Mabel get ahead... I'm doing you a favor." Then, he and his mistress threw me off the building, making it look like a suicide. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day of my stomach surgery.

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.

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.

After I refused to donate my uterus to my older sister, Madeline Holloway, my childhood sweetheart grew to hate me. He plotted to send me into the bed of the top heir of Highcrest's elite circle. The heir's desires were intense, but he despised women who threw themselves at him. Everyone waited to see my downfall. Instead, he spoiled me beyond measure. Three years into our marriage, he loved getting his hands on me whenever he could—the balcony, the kitchen, the car, even at glamorous banquets. I could barely step into the restroom before he'd follow, pinning me against the sink. We never used contraception. Alas, I never got pregnant. It wasn't until the day I went to the hospital, thinking I might be expecting, that I overheard his conversation with the doctor. "Winston, you had me secretly transplant Madison's uterus into her sister three years ago. Now you want me to lie and tell her she's infertile? How can you be so cruel to a woman who loves you?" "I had no choice. Madeline's marriage will be on the rocks if she can't bear children. Madison's uterus was the only match." The familiar male voice sounded so icy and unrecognizable just then. That was when I realized the love and salvation I trusted without question were nothing but another lie. If that was the case… it was time for me to make my exit.

Everyone believed Ethan Cross loved Isabella Winters to his core, but nobody knew he'd already found an Isabella look-alike to keep him company through the lonely nights. Even when Isabella recovered, he continued his affair. Little did he know that Isabella's recovery was temporary—within two months, she would lose every memory she'd ever made. After that, she would forget Ethan completely, and her love for him would be erased forever.