Will Someone Ever Love Me Novels & Stories

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

Iris escapes a stifling marriage, finding refuge in a chance encounter with Ian at a resort. Shared confessions spark a connection, leading to Ian's frequent visits to Iris's life. As their friendship deepens, external pressures and family complexities threaten their budding relationship. Will they overcome the challenges that seek to unravel their newfound connection?

He destroyed her life in a heartbeat. Now he wants her heart to beat for him. On her wedding day, Elena Robertson wore red for love. It ended in blood. Her parents, slaughtered before her eyes. Her fiancé, gunned down with a smile on his lips. Her freedom, stolen by the man who thought she was someone else. Thorne Del Roi. The Mafia King feared across continents. Cold. Merciless. Godless. He took everything from her to avenge a crime she never committed. He broke her, used her, poisoned her soul with vengeance. But truth cuts deeper than any blade. Now, the devil who destroyed her is the only one who can’t stop craving her. Not for her body, but for the heart he never meant to feel beating in his chest. And Elena? She wants to hate him. She should hate him. But what do you do when your enemy becomes the air you breathe? He’s power. She’s fury. He’s fire. She’s the match. And when love ignites between them, it won’t just burn, it will explode. So much twist you can't imagine. Dive and enjoy the ride.

Anna Whitmore dated Lucas Caldwell, a young heir from New York’s old-money circle, for three years. When the time was right, she decided to reveal who she truly was and formally proposed a strategic marriage. On the day she planned to propose, he made an excuse and walked away. That same night, he was seen at a nightclub, arms wrapped around another woman, openly mocking the idea of marrying someone “without status or value.” Anna saw his true face and walked away for good. If marriage in their world had always been a transaction, then choosing a man with greater power and influence was only fair. So she married his uncle. Later, on the day Lucas Caldwell announced his engagement to the daughter her father chose to acknowledge, he saw her at the banquet. The so-called “unfavored” Whitmore heiress. His former girlfriend. She stood beside his uncle under the spotlight, smiling— calm, radiant, untouchable. The man next to her was the one who truly controlled New York’s upper circle, a level of power Lucas Caldwell would never reach. His uncle spoke lightly, and the entire room fell silent. “She is my wife.”

For billionaire lawyer Cynthia, the courtroom is her domain. She's a fierce advocate for women's rights and has won countless battles against injustice. But when her own marriage implodes, she finds herself in the unfamiliar role of defendant. Can she navigate the treacherous waters of her own divorce and emerge with her rights intact?

When I was ten, my mother married into the Corleone family, and I followed her into that house. Before Vincent Corleone learned to hate me, he had once treated me like a real little sister. Later, he became the one who hurt me most. He believed my mother had driven his own mother to her death, and from that day on, he made sure I paid for it. Humiliation, contempt, cruelty—he never spared me any of it. Then Leo Moretti, Vincent’s closest friend, confessed that he loved me. I thought he was my way out. I was wrong. The morning after I gave him my first time, I overheard him speaking to Vincent behind a half-closed door. “I got the photos from her first night,” Leo said quietly. “Are you really going to make them public?” Vincent’s voice was cold enough to freeze my blood. “She owes my mother a life. If I can’t take that, then I’ll make sure she pays another way. I want her ruined.” That was the moment I understood. The tenderness had been fake. The love had been a trap. And the man I had trusted most had been waiting all along to destroy me. What they didn’t know was that two weeks earlier, I had already received an invitation from Professor Evans at the world’s top international medical research institute. So this time, I left first. And I was never coming back.

My husband William came home with another woman and told me a cruel truth-they had a baby. “I can’t believe I loved you!” I cried. I lost everything. My father’s company went bankrupt and I lost my baby because of William’s betrayal. What’s worse, I never thought my life could be so miserable until I heard a doctor say, “She had stomach cancer.” I was overwhelmed with pain. What should I do? Accept it or fight it? Who can give me the answer?

The church was full of different kinds of majestic decorations. A theme of white and gold, the color that is perfectly expressing both purity and prosperity. Indeed, it is really f*cking wonderful. But then... On this fre*king wonderful day who would have thought that a mere guest like me who was forced to attend this d*mn wedding of my damn stepsister will become the bride??! “She is right here. The… bride is here. We shall start the ceremony, Mr. Morgan” “Is it her?” “Y-yes. She is the one you will marry.” “Wait what, me?!”

"You are not my wife, you can never be my wife do you understand me?" his eyes filled with hatred shot daggers at her. "You are an imposter, a nobody, a thieve. During your days in this house, I don't want to feel you close, don't ever look at me, don't ever talk to me. When you hear the sound of my footstep, you run far" "Now get out." Genesis an average girl with plans ahead, she forged to achieve those dreams of hers after graduation. But the news of her upcoming marriage to Jordan Chase, the son of the most influential man in the state shattered those dreams. Her dreams were used to pay the price for her sister's medical bill. What happens to Genesis when it hits her that she was a trophy wife? How will she fight for her marriage when her husband is a cold hearted demon who loves another? Can a girl live such lonely life? Or would she rather run away than face her husband? Will love blossom or will this be another failed marriage?

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.