Worth Winning Cast Novels & Stories

Rejected and humiliated, Becca was cast aside by Alpha Desmond, the mate who was supposed to cherish her. Determined to prove her worth, she became a healer, using her skills to earn a place in the pack that shunned her. But when she is falsely accused of a crime and sentenced to death, her fate seems sealed. Until Alpha Eugene—Desmond’s long-lost brother and the rightful ruler—stops the execution with a shocking claim: Becca is his mate. Now caught between the Alpha who despises her and the one who swears to protect her, Becca must fight for her own destiny. Will she finally earn her place, or has fate already decided her path?

As Don Julian Vitale's woman, I've accompanied him every step of the way, from the streets all the way to the peak. It all starts because I don't like the way Julian's god-sister, Milena Santoro, uses so much force in dressing my wounds that I've dismissed her in favor of other people. The next day, my explicit photos are plastered all over the underground casino's chips. I clutch my abdomen, which still sports the stab wound I've blocked for Julian. As I search for him, I end up overhearing his subordinates' lewd laughter outside a private room. "Winona sure is hot, Don Vitale! Now that her body's printed all over the chips, our luck has tremendously increased as well!" "That's not it! Previously, Don Vitale rewarded me by letting me grope Winona's chest! Because of that, I was able to seal a business deal that's worth tens of millions of dollars!" "Then again, Don Vitale, won't Winona get into a fight with you for spreading her explicit photos like this?" Julian puffs out some smoke while toying with a casino chip with my crotch printed on it. "She's just a plaything whom Lady Luck favors. Without my protection, she's even lower than a mutt. Besides, she's nothing compared to Milena, and yet she has the gall to complain about how much force Milena uses in dressing her wounds?" As the crotch-imprinted chip is flung onto the table carelessly, I feel my heart dying once and for all.

Once branded barren and cast aside, she vanished with her pride in ruins. Years later, she returns—stronger, richer, and with four identical children no one saw coming. Her reappearance shakes the elite world that rejected her, especially the man who once broke her heart. Secrets unravel, old desires reignite, and as the truth about the quadruplets surfaces, one question remains: Will her past destroy her again—or will love give her a second chance?

I slipped into a vegetative state because of an accident. For the next five years, my wife, Ella York, remains devoted to me. She turns down all of her admirers and has chosen to raise our child on her own. At the same time, she exhausts herself from taking care of me to the point that she suffers from stomach bleeding. Everyone advises her to find a new man to settle down with. But Ella exclaims in a choked-up tone, "I'll always be Zack's wife for as long as he lives!" When I miraculously wake up from my comatose state, the first thing I do is file for a divorce under the condition that Ella leaves this marriage without a cent to her name. All of my family, friends, and relatives are pissed off at me, to say the least. "You bastard! Ella has stayed by your side for the past five years! How dare you cast her out the moment you wake up!" As I gaze at Ella's tear-streaked face coldly, I say to everyone else, "Go ahead and check the security footage at my son's kindergarten. Then, you'll understand how Ella has taken care of me over the past five years."

After taking a shower, I stepped barefoot onto the smart scale at home. A cheerful chime rang out. "Congratulations, Mia, you're in your second trimester. The baby weighs three pounds already!" I froze. I was pregnant? How did I not know? Heart pounding, I snatched up my phone and immediately called my husband. "What's going on with the scale at home? I'm pregnant?!" There was a moment of silence on the other end before his familiar, gentle chuckle came through. "Mila, it's just a scale. The data must be wrong. Maybe you're just too sensitive since you haven't been able to get pregnant." I hung up and connected the scale to Bluetooth. In the data log, I saw three months' worth of steadily increasing numbers. Grabbing my car keys, I headed straight for Mia Lane's university.

Jaxon Slater and I had lived as a married couple for five years, but we had never made it official. Every time we went to City Hall to sign the papers, Lisa Clark, Jaxon's coworker, found a way to derail it. The first time, she did not know how to format a document, so he stayed behind at the office to help her. The second time, she came down with a fever. He hung up on me mid-call and left without a backward glance. The third time, she had a performance review. He got so caught up in it that he left me at City Hall for an entire day. It happened fifteen times. Every attempt to make our marriage legal was interrupted by something involving her. I saw the pattern for what it was. A man like that was not worth keeping. Thus, I left for good. And the moment I did, he came after me as if nothing else in his life mattered.

When Selovia's soldiers seized me, I sent Leon ninety-nine letters, each one begging for rescue. He tore them apart. "I sent Aya back to her duchy after she struck Mira—but I gave her my finest escort. Selovia could not have touched her." A sharp breath. "I allowed Mira the ceremonial gown, nothing more. And now Aya makes a spectacle to win back my favor. It shames her." He paced once, restless. "Mira's brother died protecting me. He was my Captain of the Royal Guard. I swore to guard her in his place. Tell Aya this—no matter how she rages, I will not cast Mira aside. If she keeps making a spectacle, I will delay the wedding." Three days later, he rode into Valecrest with the marriage contract in hand, ready to wed me. That same hour, Selovia's envoys delivered an ornate gift box. Leon glanced at it and exhaled. "So the dowry is prepared. All this noise was Aya stirring unrest." The lid opened. Inside— My head. From the tower, mourning bells began to toll. Slow. Heavy. Final. The chapel doors parted. The officiant stepped out, robes dark, face set in solemn lines. "Her Grace, Aya Valecrest, Duchess of Valecrest, has been returned to us. The burial rites begin at once."

Five years ago, Zara was framed, broken, and thrown into the freezing rain by the man she loved. What Lucian Sterling didn't know was that she was forced to runaway with a baby three of them, actually. Now, the naive maid is dead. Zara has returned not as a victim, but as a ruthless billionaire CEO herself. Fueled by girl power and a thirst for cold, calculated revenge, she is back to crush Lucian’s empire. But no secret stays hidden forever. When her genius baby boy hacks the Sterling corporate network, Lucian comes face to face with the triplets he never knew existed. The discovery shatters the untouchable billionaire, bringing him to his knees in agonizing regret. Seeing Zara protected by another man ignites Lucian's dangerously possessive instincts. The high stakes drama escalates as Lucian realizes his money can't buy her forgiveness. He will have to surrender his fortune, his pride, and his very life to prove his devotion. The ultimate battle of winning back the wife he discarded has begun. Can a broken romance rise from the ashes, or will Zara’s icy walls keep him locked out forever?

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

For seven years, my CEO girlfriend never once came home with me to see my parents. She told me that she hated social obligations, and that she didn't want to deal with the gossip and hassle that came with meeting my parents and relatives. Even in daily life, she treated me with cold professionalism, never spending any anniversaries with me in favor of working overtime. I'd always thought that it was just a simple matter of her being too rational and prideful, and I was fine with slowly teaching her how to nurture a relationship. That was, until Thanksgiving arrived. Once again, she stressed that holidays were just a capitalistic norm, and that she was going to work overtime instead of coming home with me. By chance, however, I accidentally stumbled upon my intern's social media. Inside a private room at a five-star hotel, he and his family sat at a table as my girlfriend sat beside him, carefully serving him food. [Yo, my boss secretly brought my parents into the city for Thanksgiving, and even gave me gifts! She told me that I was worth special gestures, too. Where can you even find a boss this romantic? My parents even told me to marry her as soon as I could! LOL!] So she knew better than anyone how to make people feel cherished. I just wasn't worth any of it. I commented: [How romantic.] Then, I messaged my girlfriend. [Let's break up.]