You Left Me Novels & Stories

Julian didn’t get cold feet. He got on a plane, back to Selene, back to the woman he swore was history, and left Mira to realize, in real time, in front of everyone she knew, that three years meant absolutely nothing to him. Atherton doesn’t forget things like that. It doesn’t even try. So when Sebastian Calloway offers his name, Mira takes it. She signs the contract, lifts her chin, and tells herself it’s just survival. A cold arrangement between two people who have never liked each other. He tells her he wants it real. She almost believes him. She hates herself a little for that. Because Sebastian isn’t doing this out of kindness. Mira is useful, her name, her influence, the quiet authority she carries without even trying. A woman still raw from humiliation is a woman who won’t look too carefully at the hand she’s reaching for. He knows that. He counts on it. What he doesn’t count on is actually falling for her. Initially it seemed like he was overthinking things, but it happened at once, the way she rebuilds herself without complaint, the way she challenges him without flinching. By the time Sebastian realizes he stopped strategizing and started feeling. Then Julian returns. Regretful. He made a mistake. Mira doesn’t take him back. That’s when he stops being sorry and starts being dangerous. Bitter and bruised, Julian finds an unlikely ally in Tracy, Sebastian’s best friend, who has her own quiet grievances and her own score to settle. Together they become exactly what Mira and Sebastian’s fragile, complicated marriage cannot afford, two people who know exactly where to press to make everything collapse.

Once, I was their princess. And then Kylee showed up. Having been in the foster system the majority of her childhood, my parents treated her like a charity case and gave her everything. At 13 years old, Kylee was adopted. Then the "accidents" started happening. Kylee would be walking past me and would suddenly fall over. "Oh, Mom! Sarah didn't mean it! Shes just having a hard time adjusting to her new sister!" Eventually, her little accusations turned into straight out bullying and, well, I'm sure you can figure out the rest. I did my best to ignore Kylee. I got a job as early as the law would allow. I saved my money. I got the best grades in school, becoming the class valedictorian. My parents didn't notice, though. They were too busy playing into Kylee's 5-year-long pity party. Don't worry, though. Soon I'll be gone to Harvard and you can have the happy family you wanted. I don't need you, anyways.

The ninth bonding ceremony between me and the Alpha King, Thorne Ravencrest, is finally here. Yet once again, I failed to become his Luna Queen. Not because he broke his promise, but because I'm not qualified enough. The Elders made it crystal clear that every Luna Queen recognized by the Moon Goddess throughout history must cultivate 365 Moonlight Flowers using their own blood essence. But every year on the eve of the ceremony, no matter how careful I am, there's always one flower missing. This year, I nearly drained myself completely and barely managed to grow the right number. Ecstatic, I go to find Thorne, wanting to surprise him. Through the partially open door of the throne hall, I hear his Beta say to him, "Alpha King, Sera's been waiting for you for eight years now. Are you ever going to bond with her?" Thorne shakes his head. "I promised Willow we can't bond this year either." His Beta hesitates. "What if Sera actually manages to grow enough Moonlight Flowers?" Thorne goes silent for a moment, then claps his hands. A shadow wolf appears and melts into the darkness. Before long, a shadow wolf returns with a Moonlight Flower clamped in its jaws. He tears the flower into shreds and lets out a sigh. "Sera has plenty of blood. Forget one year. She could keep cultivating for another ten years and still be fine. "But Willow's been poisoned with wolfsbane. I'm all she has left, and she wants me by her side in her final days. "I can't bear to refuse Willow, which means Sera will just have to wait a bit longer." I bite my lip hard, barely able to believe what I'm hearing. So the Moonlight Flowers that kept mysteriously disappearing were all destroyed by him. Becoming Luna Queen has been my dream since childhood. But if he never intended to bond with me at all, then it's time I leave him.

Stubborn, secretive and an impossible flirt, Ashton Pierce has all the qualities that should prompt Hayley Barclay to run a mile away from him. Maybe the bad boy aura he exudes is too much for her to resist! Orphaned at thirteen, Ashton would have gone astray had Daniel Van Every, his best friend’s father, not adopted him and brought him home. Ever since, a close relationship develops between him and the Van Every children, Alexander and Alyssa. As Alyssa close friend, Hayley meets Ashton almost every day. Can she resist his charm? With a mile-wide ego, Ashton refuses to acknowledge Hayley who is six years younger. Even when they grow up, Ashton doesn’t “do" dating, especially not with a multi-billionairess, who’s the sole heiress to her family’s fortune. What happens when Hayley grows up into a bombshell? What happens when she pursues him every where? What happens when the dark secrets of his past doesn’t affect her? Can he resist her? Read this fifth book of the temptation series to find out!

Olivia Smith is the secret billionaire heiress that no one knows about. Disguising as a pauper with her mother's last name "Smith" instead of the popular family name, "Richards," she secretly helps the love of her life, Lucas Preston build his company from the scratch. And how does he repay her? With a heartbreaking betrayal and divorce. When Lucas eventually finds out his mistake in divorcing a billionaire heiress, he wants her love back by all means. But Olivia is now the hottest single lady in the city. And she doesn't want her ex husband back!

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

Ophelia loved Dylan, the Alpha of the pack, with all her heart—but to him, she was merely a plaything, a lowly maid unworthy of his regard. His destined bride was Caroline, the noble-born Beta's daughter. When forced to send one of the two women to a rival pack in exchange for a life-saving antidote... who would he choose?

Rachel Larson was adamant about marrying me, and she spent ten years stealing my heart. On the night before our wedding, I overheard her conversation with her friend. "You're marrying Leonardo? What about your side piece?" A moment of silence later, Rachel answered, "That guy? He's just a cheap replacement. Leonardo's the real deal. Don't compare my side piece to him. If he stays put and keeps his mouth shut, I might let him stay around. Leonardo's a broad-minded man. He won't mind." The side piece did not stay put. In fact, he caused a scene at the wedding the next day. He shoved me off the stage, but the woman who was supposed to marry me darted over to his side instead. Why? He was holding a piece of broken glass against his throat. Gutturally, he roared, "Choose! Me or him?" Panicked, Rachel kicked me away despite my injuries, and she roared, "Get out of the way! I need to take him to the hospital! If anything happens to him, I'll kill you!" She didn't need to wait that long. My heart died right there and then. … That night, I bought a flight ticket that would take me abroad and left her.

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

At the National High School Football All-Star Game, my boyfriend Evan had just been named MVP. Sophia, the cheer captain, immediately posted on Instagram. Caption: "Guess who got a little something from the champion himself~" The photo turned out to be a pair of Evan's worn underwear! Scrawled across them in lipstick were the words: "For my dearest Sophia." She held them up with her long acrylic nails, pouting for the selfie. The internet exploded. "Why does she have his underwear?" "Isn't it obvious? They're totally together." "Sitting here waiting for the official couple photo." Within seconds, a close-up of the two of them cheek-to-cheek surfaced in the comments. Congratulations and teasing flooded the feed. I gripped my phone, a chill spreading through my entire body. Evan had promised to go public about us ages ago but kept putting it off, saying he needed to prove himself first. He'd been stalling ever since. Now here I was, his actual girlfriend, and I didn't even get an invite to his victory party. I took a deep breath and called him. "Explain." On the other end, Evan's voice was lazy, almost amused. "The fans grabbed everything off me. Jersey, pads, all of it. Sophia insisted on keeping something as a souvenir, so I gave her the underwear. No big deal." "The Instagram post is just riding the hype. Don't be so uptight about it." Then Sophia's voice chimed in. "Yeah, honey, Evan and I are like brothers! I've seen everything on him already. It's just a pair of boxers, so don't be so petty." I listened to their increasingly flirtatious banter through the speaker, then slowly pulled off my engagement ring and tossed it aside. "Fine," I said to Evan. "I'll be the bigger person. Why don't you skip the 'girl bro' thing and just make her your girlfriend? I'm tired of watching this act."