When Love Is No Longer Enough Novel Novels & Stories

A client splashes water in my face. I'm trembling as I endure his insults and mockery while Wayne Gale stands and watches calmly. His arm is around his assistant as he says, "I can't believe you're incapable of handling such a menial task, Georgina. My company doesn't need useless staff!" I wipe the water from my face and down my drink. Then, I fill it again and splash the client back. Whoever wants this job can have it. I quit!

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.

“My endless love… You know it’s you I want. The only one I’ve ever wanted. I yearn for you. I crave for you. A hunger that is insatiable. A passion that burns hotter than fire. I finally found you. And you’re mine to keep.” Theodoros ‘Theo’ Kralidis hasn't seen his exiled, troublemaking stepsister, Aundrea ‘Dea’ Etheridge, since the night they finally gave in to their forbidden attraction. Learning she's returned to Athens during a business deal too crucial to jeopardize, Theo holds her prisoner on Saint Marie, his private island, until it's over. Dea wants to rectify the past, but being so close to Theo's potent sensuality, she's once again a slave to their destructive desire. One last passionate, forbidden night should have put their affair behind them, but Dea leaves the island with more than scorching-hot memories…

The fifth time we went to the courthouse, James Ceasar and I still weren’t officially married. We had picked a good day for it, but right before it was our turn, he got a call and rushed off in a hurry. With my eyes turning red, I pointed at the screen showing the waiting numbers, trying to stop him. “We're next. It won't take more than ten minutes. We can get it done fast. Once we’re officially married, you can go and deal with whatever’s so urgent. It won’t take long.” James was the CEO of his company, so he had full control over his schedule. That was why I said it like that, not thinking it would be a big deal. However, he just glanced at the screen, handed me the ticket with our number on it, and looked annoyed. “I can marry you anytime,” he said. “But right now, I’ve got something I need to take care of. Don’t make a fuss.”

During a company retreat to Colmar, I found out my boyfriend was going to propose at sunset, surrounded by colleagues. Instead, in the golden light, he dropped to one knee with a ring in hand in front of someone else. “Lana, I’m ready to be the father of your child. Will you marry me?” Lana, the woman Mark had loved for ten years, his unforgettable first love. I stared at the two, watching them embrace. Then I quietly turned away, booked myself a trip three days out, and went home for an arranged date. A year later, I ran into him again when I returned to the country. Mark’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my wrist. “Rosie, you’re finally back. Don’t leave me again…”

Amanza is introduced to a handsome, wealthy man named Holland Halston, and she is arranged to marry him in as little as eight days! But she could never let him know her real identity! For three years, she kept her identity covered. But by the third year, her marriage fell apart! Holland shocks Amanza on their Anniversary day, causing miscommunication and insurmountable misunderstandings. But why? Will her Secret, his lies, and her hidden identity be the culprit? What happened to this couple and their marriage to make it unravel at the speed of light? What did the husband discover? And what did the wife find out that would make divorce imminent? With the turn of every page, you'll be surprised!

I'm the only daughter of the Alpha King. My father's always been swamped with pack affairs, so I grew up in Howler, raised among the wolves there. The Alpha of Howler had two sons, and they were my shadows growing up. Logan was gentle and doting. Derek was wild and electric. They both pursued me, adored me, fought for my attention in ways that made every wolf in the pack green with envy. I thought I'd choose one of them as my mate someday. I really did. Then Rose showed up. She was beautiful. A gifted healer. Capable in ways I never was. When Derek came back wounded from a skirmish, Rose was the one stitching him up. When Logan got buried in pack business, Rose was right there beside him, smoothing out every problem like it was nothing. Logan started singing her praises in front of me, always finding ways to mention how I wasn't mature enough, not independent enough, not enough. Derek promised me a gift once. He gave it to Rose instead. And the night I nearly died during my first shift? They were both with Rose. Because she had a scratch. They had their red rose. They didn't need their faded moon anymore. So I left. Went back to my father, the Alpha King. I told myself it was over. That we shouldn't have any ties. But then why—why did they beg me to come back?

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.

When my mother went into kidney failure and needed a transplant, it was Pauline Maynard—on the brink of death herself—who gave my mom a second chance at life. Just before Pauline passed, she gripped my hand tightly and whispered her final words. "Summer, Ricky is my only son. He's rebellious… and fragile. Please, take care of him. Just three years, please?" I gave her my word. Then I moved into their home and gave Ricky everything he needed—love, comfort, a sense of safety. For three years, I stayed true to that promise. By the third year, Ricky had transformed. No longer the wayward boy he once was, he rose to become the Mafia Don Ricky Lenza. And I was carrying his child. As I busied myself with wedding plans, I overheard something I was never meant to hear—his voice, low and mocking, as he wrapped another woman in his arms. "Summer? She's just pretending to love me for the sake of my mother's inheritance and a stupid deal. A gold digger like her dreams of marrying me? What a joke." A sharp pain pierced my chest, like thorns stabbing deep beneath the skin. On the way to a prenatal checkup, we were hit in a crash. My baby didn't make it. And my mother, sitting in the passenger seat, shielded me with her life. When I woke up, I stared blankly at the date on my phone. Three days left. That would've marked the end of the three-year promise. I realized then—I'd paid my debt to Pauline in full. It was time for me to go.

There isn't any cure for migraines. But my billionaire wife, Ashley Weston, has not had a single migraine for years thanks to my daily massage with both hands. On the day I get into a car accident, I beg a passerby to call her to save me. She replies impatiently, "So you're resorting to such shameless tricks just because I won't answer your calls?" Through the phone comes the mocking laughter of her childhood friend, Jordan Hanson. My right hand is permanently fractured, and my left hand suffers from muscle weakness after the accident. A lawyer helps me draft a divorce agreement. With much difficulty, I sign it and send it to Ashley. On the day her head throbs with unbearable pain, she looks at my drooping hands and remains silent for a long time.