Romans & histoires When Never Comes

Klaus Oakluster has nothing left to sell except the one thing his body was made to offer. At twenty-three, he is malnourished, hunted by loan sharks, and entirely out of options. Renting his womb was never the dream. It was the only door still open. Norman Cross has five companies, a mansion, and a life most people would envy. What he does not have is a family. When he walks into Hope Clinic and opens a folder of surrogacy applicants, he stops at the very first page and never turns it. Something about a pink-haired Omega with chubby cheeks and desperate eyes tells his wolf that the search is already over. The contract was supposed to be simple. Clinical. Temporary. But forced proximity, shared mornings, and a scent that feels like home have a way of rewriting agreements that were never built to hold real feelings. When a fabricated betrayal tears them apart and a dangerous enemy threatens everything Klaus has left, Norman must decide whether protecting his pride is worth losing the person who turned his empty house into something worth coming home to.

"Sasha, Mira's already engaged to Vincent. Stop messing with it. We booked your flight. You'll stay overseas until after the wedding." The whole 'this is for your own good' routine was back. That's when Sasha Clarke realized—she'd been given a second shot. Right to the day her parents forced her out of the country and made her give up Vincent Scythe.

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?

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.

My mother never believed me. To her, I was always just a lying pup. In my pack, every cub wore a Moon Oath Collar. Red meant you lied. White meant you told the truth. My sister’s collar always glowed a soft white. Even when she pretended to be sick to get out of an exam, her collar only gave off that gentle white light. Mine was different. Even when I was truly sick, my collar would burst into a violent red, and the punishment current would follow immediately. On my sister’s birthday, Mother prepared a bonfire feast for the whole pack. Just before they left, a splitting pain tore through my head, and I collapsed on the floor, begging her to help me. For one second, she almost picked me up. Then my collar flashed red. “To ruin your sister’s birthday, you’re even pretending to die? What a vicious child.” Then she walked out with my sister and left me alone on the floor. I died alone on the cold floor. But when I opened my eyes again, I was no longer inside my body. My soul drifted after my mother as I whispered the truth she had never believed. “Mom… I wasn’t lying. I really died.” And when they finally found my body, the red collar on my neck was still flashing.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

Four years ago, Aria Santoro traded a mafia throne for a quiet life at Harvard. She buried her name, her past, and the memory of the man who haunted her dreams. But you don't just "quit" the family. When her father falls ill, the world she fled comes crashing back in the form of Luca Moretti. Luca is her father’s most dangerous weapon. He’s cold, possessive, and tasked with bringing the runaway heiress home—by force if necessary. One night of long-awaited passion sparks an obsession neither can control. Luca promises Aria his loyalty and his life. But behind his protective gaze lies a secret that could destroy the Santoro empire. When the truth comes out, Aria is faced with a choice: Walk away from the man she loves, or lose herself to the world she tried so hard to escape.

Adrian Hale and Elara Calder are forced into a merger neither wants. Bound by boardrooms and buried grudges, they clash at every turn, each convinced the other is responsible for their family’s downfall. What begins as open hostility slowly fractures under late nights, sharp words, and moments of accidental intimacy, neither can ignore. As tension deepens, hidden truths threaten everything they believe. Adrian and Elara must choose between the comfort of hatred and the risk of trusting each other.

A unique video went viral overnight. In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender. Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride. Within hours, the video topped various trending charts. People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year. Anya Rossi later posted a message. "I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!" The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations. "A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!" "It's like something out of a novel." "So enviable." I went to my boyfriend to confirm. Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study. “Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.” His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?” Ted chuckled, unconcerned. “So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.” At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely. A month later On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man. Our wedding processions met downtown. According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously. That’s when Ted saw me. I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him. But in another man’s arms. After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.