Why He Purple Novelas e Histórias

On the day of her wedding, Lysandra Sterling becomes the city’s biggest scandal. Abandoned by her husband at their own reception. Humiliated by the media. Betrayed by the best friend she trusted. For five years, Lysandra sacrificed everything to help Victor Sterling build his empire. But behind the smiles, the Sterling family had been planning to discard her the moment they secured their final government contract. Now the abandoned bride has awakened. Armed with her intelligence, hidden resources, and a powerful new ally, Lysandra begins a dangerous game of revenge. The empire she helped build will become the empire she destroys. And when the truth behind her father’s mysterious business collapse begins to surface, the battle between Lysandra and the Sterlings will shake the entire city. In Velmore’s ruthless world of power and betrayal, the abandoned bride is no longer the victim. She is the storm.

Five years ago, Mildred Jones disappeared after a scandal destroyed her life. The city called her broken. The powerful Knight family believed she was gone forever, but they were wrong. Now she returns as a billionaire CEO, armed with precision, power, and a plan built for one purpose which is revenge. Her first target is Jack Knight, the man whose betrayal ruined everything she once believed in, but when she crosses paths with James Knight, Jack’s cold, calculating older brother, her carefully built plan begins to fracture. James knows his family is hiding something. Mildred knows trusting a Knight could destroy her again, then a ghost from the past returns. As buried truths rise and loyalties collapse, Mildred is forced into a final choice, to destroy everything or uncover the truth that could rewrite her past because some secrets were never meant to stay buried, and some women cannot be broken.

On the tenth day of my postpartum recovery, my husband, Deputy Commander Harvey Wyatt, uploads a photo of me breastfeeding my newborn in a disheveled state to the department's group chat. Obviously, that photo was taken without my knowledge. "See? After having a kid, she's as loose as a sack. It makes me sick just looking at her. I much prefer my side piece, who's nice and tight." A few female colleagues send sweating emojis to the group. The majority of the chat, however, consists of the male colleagues' perverse silence. While I continue to burp my baby with one hand, my tears land on the screen. In order to give birth to this baby, my pelvic bone was sawn in half, which causes me so much pain that I can't even walk properly. But all I get in return is my own husband body-shaming me in front of hundreds of people. I don't bother arguing with Harvey at all. Half an hour later, I drag my broken body all the way to the commander's office with a divorce agreement as well as the chat history over the past ten days, which has been printed out, in my hands.

Erwin Wilson wakes up to find himself in a novel. This book Erwin read a long time ago, did not expect that after so many years he would come to this place again and become a self-sacrificing character. Then Erwin met another self-sacrificing character. How unlucky enough to marry someone. Erwin thought this marriage would be a marriage in the name of no love. Unexpectedly, one evening, Frederick pulled him onto the bed and whispered confessions in his ear. “Erwin, you’re mine!”

"In the presence of the Moon Goddess and all members of the Pack, I, Damian, Alpha of Silvermoon Pack, officially reject Seraphina as my mate!” On the day of my Mating Ceremony when I was twenty, my childhood Alpha and Fated Mate, Damian, brought back an unfamiliar female werewolf, Vivian. He claimed that on the Night of Souls, the silhouette of the Fated Soul he had seen was hers, not mine. “Vivian has told me everything. You gave me a Hallucination Potion to make me believe my Fated Mate was you. Now, it’s time to correct that mistake!” The moment the words left his mouth, my heart felt like it was being torn apart. Pain ripped through my whole body. Our Mate Bond splintered, inch by inch. I dropped to my knees, blood trickling from the corner of my lips as I clutched my chest. My other childhood friend and also the pack’s Beta, Ethan, just watched coldly. “There was never a Mate Bond between you and Damian. Enough with your pitiful act! The more you do this, the more we’ll despise you.” The mate I loved most, and the friend I trusted the most, teamed up to rub my nose in the dirt in front of everyone. Their words were like knives, gutting me open bit by bit. Staggering, I turned and fled from the pack. Once, it was a place that held all my happiness. Now, there was only coldness and betrayal. None of them cared, convinced I was just throwing a tantrum and would come crawling back sooner or later. It wasn’t until weeks later that they learned I had begun the Healer’s closed-door training. All ties must be severed, and complete solitude was required. I wasn't allowed to return for ten years. That was the moment they finally fell apart.

I had been Silas Sterling's mate for seven years. We decided to get tattoos of each other's names. This was a Binding Tattoo that represented eternal love in the Moonstone Wolf pack. It had the power to bind mates eternally. When I got the tattoo, I realized the malicious words 'Public Male Amenity' had been tattooed on my chest. It chilled me to the bone. My adopted sister, Greta Pound, was the one who tattooed me. She covered her mouth as she laughed. "Don't you always enjoy attracting the attention of all the male werewolves by dressing so skimpily in the pack, Freya? I'm just helping you to publicize this." Greta was a female werewolf I had saved. Why was she treating me this way when I treated her like my sister? I grabbed her hair angrily, but Silas pushed me violently to the side as he pulled Greta protectively into his arms. He frowned as he berated me unhappily, "Greta was just joking with you. Why are you so mad about it?" I stared at his bare chest where my name should be tattooed. However, the name 'Greta' was there instead. She looked up at me from Silas' arms and smiled innocently yet tauntingly at me. "Silas said our names rhymed, Freya, so I played a joke by tattooing my name on him. You aren't mad about this, are you?"

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.

After dropping the big news of my pregnancy on my husband, Maxwell Ford, who loves me to the moon and back, I expect him to burst into tears out of elation. But I don't expect him to harbor a slightly guilty look. "I'm sorry, Val. I'm still not ready to become a father just yet. Can we only work on having another child after a few more years?" Although I can't bear to part with my unborn baby, I still go through a medical abortion obediently. Three years later, I accidentally witness Maxwell holding another woman's hand as they pick up a little girl from kindergarten. With a wide smile on his face, Maxwell picks up the girl and says, "It's your third birthday today, sweetheart! Why don't I give you the position as the only heiress to my company as your birthday gift?" As I stare at the family of three walking away from me, I feel as though I've been plunged into an icy abyss. It turns out that Maxwell is lying about not being ready to become a father. He just doesn't like the child that I bear…

On the night I add my new girlfriend, Celia Spencer, into my group chat with my friends, my college roommate, Kevin Wright, suddenly posts more than a dozen screenshots in the group chat. Those screenshots feature the fragments of daily life I occasionally post on my social media feed. "Now here's where things get confusing. We only earn thousands of dollars per month. Where on earth did you get your money from in order to live such a lavish life? "I've been holding my tongue for far too long. At first, I intended to protect your pride. But now that you're dating such a wonderful, beautiful, and rich woman, I don't have the heart to see her getting lied to." In the end, Kevin tags Celia in the group chat. His words are filled with regret and pain. "Ms. Spencer, you're a rich scion, so you might not know anything about the bottom feeders' tactics. A fake scion like Luke who has racked up a huge online debt and brands his social media feed to look rich is very common in society! You have to keep your eyes open, you know! Take care not to get tricked by scammers!" As I suppress my anger, I respond with, "I never stole nor robbed from others! What's wrong with me spending my own money?" Kevin quickly retaliates with a lengthy audio message. "Your own money, you say? Your net worth isn't enough to afford even one segment of that luxury wristwatch in the photo! Why are you still pretending to be rich?" I just laugh in response. Does Kevin really think that rich people don't wear cheap stuff? What he doesn't know is that Celia, the so-called rich and beautiful woman he's trying so hard to kiss up to, is actually just someone I've hired to play the part. I'm the actual scion here, whereas Celia is just a fake heiress.

Three years after Alpha King Damien Caldwell marks me, Drake Whitaker finally remembers I exist. Turns out he really believes I'll "wait for him forever." Twenty black SUVs clog the private road into Ridgefield pack territory, trunks crammed with moonstone jewelry, old talismans, and rare herbs. Drake steps out of the tricked-out Hummer, wearing a smug smile and clutching a stack of parchment contracts. "Aria," he calls up, like some medieval knight, "I told you once the Silvermoon Coalition was official and Kenneth's supply lines were stable, I'd bring you to my pack. "The High Council finalized five packs yesterday. I came first thing this morning to show you I mean it." I sit in the upstairs study, watching a video Damien just sent of him playing with our son, then glance through the blinds at the ridiculous scene unfolding below. Drake lifts his face toward the second floor. "I know you're upset, but Kenneth controls the biggest timber in the Eastvale region. I had to mark Isabella. It was politics. You get that. Feelings don't need a mark anyway. I'll treat you better than a Luna." His words made my skin crawl. I pressed the intercom button on the desk. "Clear the drive. Tell security someone's trespassing." What a day! I've just taken my son to the medical center for his one-month checkup. Damien sends me back to Ridgefield pack for a week to rest. Instead, I get this mess on my doorstep.