When Does Invincible Get Stronger Novels & Stories

My childhood friend promised to marry me once we came of age — but at my wedding ceremony, he gave my wedding ring to my stepsister, Summer Hugh. At the time, it was Victor Lowell, the fearsome mafia heir, who saved me by publicly announcing he had loved me for years. In the five years we had been married, he would fulfill every wish I had, even those I mentioned offhand. I truly believed I was the center of his world. All that changed when I stumbled across a top-secret folder as I was cleaning his bookshelf. The very first page was a file on Summer, with three red words printed in bold, “Top protection priority.” It was followed by a mission report I knew too well. On the night of the mission, there had been an attempt on my life. My blood had almost run dry before I was saved. When I woke up at the hospital, I found out that I had lost a baby I did not know I had been carrying. I wept bitterly in Victor’s arms, but I did not tell him about the baby. I did not want him to worry about me more. Now, I finally found out — Summer had been attacked that night as well, and Victor’s orders had been: “Save Summer first.” My tears soaked into the paper, smudging his handwriting. “Alright,” I said softly but firmly into the silence. “If my marriage had been a lie all along, I’ll disappear from your life. Forever.”

Trapped in a gilded cage, a defiant artist becomes entangled with a ruthless mafia Don. Valentina, a talented artist and stripper struggling to survive in the city's underbelly, witnesses a brutal act that plunges her into a world of danger. Captured by Dante Russo, the enigmatic head of the Russo famiglia, she finds herself a prisoner in his opulent mansion. Haunted by a violent past, Dante is a man shrouded in secrets, ruling with an iron fist and a hidden vulnerability. As tensions rise between rival factions vying for control of the city, an unlikely bond sparks between Valentina and Dante. She uses her art to capture the brutality and fleeting moments of tenderness within his world. But their connection is a dangerous dance. Can they navigate a web of deceit and betrayal, or will the city's dark secrets consume them both?

She is Nasha Atlas, the first of her name; optimistic laced with beauty and brains. Getting admission into the University of Cambridge, to study her dream course, was her greatest desire; it came cos whatever she desires, she gets. But how did she feel when her boyfriend who she wants to share in her joy, betrays her by sleeping with another woman? Would she breathe fresh air when she became a prime suspect in the murder of her new neighbor? Would George Powers: a strict officer et billionaire be able to find out who the culprit is when he fell in love with the suspect and make love to her at a supposed investigatory dinner night? And amid the many deaths, would his prowess as a detective be proven? What happens when Nasha's ex-billionaire lover keeps coming back when she already has a new love life? Would she revenge or accept him back?

Lyra Riley, a twenty-one-year-old virgin psychology major, and Blaze Cunningham, a twenty-five-year-old CEO, have encountered the worst relationships. Blaze has been used for his money and cheated on during all his long-term relationships. Lyra has been dumped time after time for not giving up her most prized possession. Both yearn to find their soulmate, someone to grow old with. And then, one night, Fate steps in for Lyra and takes the lead. Could she finally have found love, or is this another disaster in the making?

I gave Evan Cole six years. I changed my name, walked away from the Moretti family, and became the kind of woman he could handle: quiet, useful, easy to overlook. I paid the bills, fixed his proposals, opened doors he thought had opened by luck, and waited every time he said we were almost ready. Then Maracame back. His first love. The woman he swore he hated until the second she needed him again. After that, I became the problem. Too jealous. Too dramatic. Too hard to please. Evan thought I would break down and beg for my place. While he played house with Mara, I saved every receipt, every post, every lie. Then I cut off the money behind his perfect little life and called my family. On Christmas Eve, he asked if I would wait. I smiled and let him believe Leah was still waiting. By the time he learned my real name, Alessia Moretti was already gone, and the mafia princess he never knew had finally chosen herself.

You never really know if it's dark or if you're actually blind till the blindfold is removed. Niamh Cross's marriage to Caspian Blackwell, the man of her dreams, was going well till she allowed her desperate and homeless cousin, Isla, to come live with them. It started slowly at first, from telling her he wanted them to have separate rooms to denying her access to his room. But it didn't take long for the blindfold to be removed and Niamh saw everything that had been happening under her very nose, in a house bought with her own money. She did what any sane woman would do and with a gun aimed at his head, she forced him into signing both divorce papers and transfer of funds to her name. Caspian didn't know what he had lost till his wife completely left his life and he became miserable. When he found her again at an event, he held her wrist and asked her to come back. But she was with another man already. She looked at him like he was a nuisance and said, "Get down on your knees and beg."

My mating ceremony with Alpha Kaelan Blackwood was supposed to happen today. He'd gone to claim the Luna's Crown for me—the final ritual before we would be bound forever. Instead, he walked into an ambush. He survived. Barely. But his wolf didn't survive. Whatever had come back from that attack wore Kaelan's face but doesn't know me. Doesn't recognize his fated mate. Instead, he looks at Seraphina like she's the one who matters. Dr. Theron Vance, our Pack Healer, gave me hope anyway. The pup I was carrying is Pureblood—a miracle, even between two Pureblood wolves. He said it might be enough to wake whatever wasleeping inside Kaelan. I was going to tell him tonight. Then I heard him talking to his Beta, Beckett. "You're really going through with this? Pretending your Wolf is gone just so a dying woman can play mother before she—" "Drop it. Elara's the only one I've ever loved." Kaelan's voice came low, steady. "This thing with Sera is just medical. A procedure. It means nothing. When it's over, Elara and I complete the mating ceremony. End of story." I didn't storm in. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. I just turned around and walked away. I don't want an Alpha's love if I'm never going to be his priority.

My husband Hades gave another woman my birthday celebration. Then he gave her my mother’s brooch. Then he let our son call her home. Nympha was the flower spirit who had grown up beside him. The healers said a curse was killing her, and she had only six months left before she disappeared forever. Hades said he only wanted her final days to be free of regret. So I was expected to be generous. Even when our five-year-old son, Eren, curled up beside her at the hearth and whispered that she felt more like home than I did, I still told myself he was only a child. Then one night, I heard him say to Hades, “Nympha is so gentle. So beautiful. I wish Mother could be more like her.” Hades only smiled. “Your mother is strict because she wants what is best for you,” he said. “But if you like Nympha so much, I can let her stand beside you at the family altar. She can bless you like a second mother.” That was when I finally understood. My husband had already given her my place. And my son had accepted her there. So the next morning, I placed a marriage dissolution agreement before Hades. He signed it without reading, because Nympha had collapsed again and he was desperate to reach her.By the time he realized what he had signed, I was already gone. If they wanted Nympha to be the lady of the Underworld, I would grant them their wish. But why, after I left, did Hades tear the Underworld apart looking for me? Why did my son cry himself sick, begging for the mother he once pushed away? And why did the dying woman they protected so carefully suddenly stop looking so fragile?

After the 100th failed fertility treatment, my husband, who had been previously diagnosed with a low sperm count, spoke coldly. “Lucy is very fertile. She gets pregnant after our first time, unlike you. You just can’t conceive.” Lucy was my adoptive sister. While holding her hand, he laid out three options for me. I could either ignore their affair and retain my title as the CEO’s wife, take the ten million dollars and disappear, or walk away with nothing at all. The whole town knew how proud I was. They also knew how deeply I loved him. They surely expected me to be mad with jealousy and choose honor over compromise. But I neither cried nor made a scene. I calmly slid the check back across the table. “The child will call me Mom. I’ll stay and be Mrs. Carter.” After all, this was my third time to live such a life. The first time, I chose to leave with nothing but my dignity. The second time, I took the money, but had to live in shame. Both decisions ended in tragedy. For the third time, perhaps three of us could just... make it work.