Better Late Than Never Book

Seven years ago, in order to accompany the fake heiress abroad for her recovery, Timothy Gibson casually signed the divorce papers I handed him. Without even turning around, he sneered at me. "Naomi, don't use such underhanded tactics to keep me around. Esther can't live without me abroad." Seven years later, he blocked my path with his car, and he spoke to me with an air of superiority. "Grandpa is critically ill. His only dying wish is to hold his great-grandchild. "Come back with me, behave yourself, and give birth to an heir. You will still be Mrs. Gibson." I looked down at my shoes. I recalled the time I stood in the rain and begged him not to leave. I even collapsed in the rain. In the end, all it got me was a dismissive 'you're making a scene' from him. Timothy still thought my life revolved around him. He had no idea that without the title of Mrs. Gibson, I had lived very well these past seven years. The very day after he signed the divorce papers, I married someone else. Gently touching my stomach, which wasn't even showing yet, I smiled and said, "Mr. Gibson, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. I am having a baby, but it isn't yours."

Clara faces some hard decisions after losing her chosen mate. Her son, Kyle is showing serious signs of aggression, which means she may have to go back to the pack her mate rules. The mate who rejected her and her unborn child. For her son, she is ready to go to any lengths! * Kyle has watched her mother be extremely happy with a man who was not her mate which has led him to believe that mates are overrated. He believes he doesn’t need a mate and wants to pave his path. But his inner demon leads him towards a very different path than the one he planned to take!

This isn’t a book. It’s a violation. Of your rules. Of your morals. Of the last line between want and ruin. These aren’t stories. They’re commands. Each page is a filthy little dare to spread wider, moan louder, and let go of every ounce of control you thought you had. Because once you start reading? You don’t stop. You can’t stop. This is where innocence gets devoured by the mouths it was told to avoid. Where best friends’ daddies, strict professors, and stepbrothers with no self-control break all the rules in your head—and then break you. They’re not gentle. They’re not careful. They’re not here for love. They want your breath caught in your throat. Your thighs shaking from how much you need it. Your body betraying every thought that says “no.” They’ll pin you down with a stare. Fuck your mind until it spirals. Make you beg without even touching you. You’ll gag on the tension. Cry from the pressure. Climax from the ache of what you’re not supposed to want. So keep your fingers ready. Keep the lights low. And baby? Be warned: You’re gonna need a towel by the end. Because this book doesn’t just seduce you. It owns you. Read it loud. Feel it deeper. And don’t you dare pretend you didn’t love every depraved second of it.

At the very moment Phoebe Stanton miscarries, her husband, Connor Russell, is celebrating the return of his first love. To him, her three years of devotion and companionship mean nothing more than being a live-in maid and cook. Phoebe gives up on him and decides to divorce. Everyone in their circle knows that Phoebe is clingy and impossible to shake off. "I bet she'll come crawling in a day." Connor sneers. "A day? That's too long—half a day at most." But the moment Phoebe signs the divorce papers, she decides never to look back. She throws herself into a new life. She revives her career, which she once abandoned, builds new connections, and meets new people. As time goes on, Connor no longer sees even a trace of Phoebe at home. He begins to panic. At an industry summit, he finally spots her, surrounded by admirers. Desperate, he pushes forward. "Phoebe, haven't you had enough of this tantrum?" But Gideon Blackwood suddenly steps in front of her, shoving Connor aside, his very demeanor chilling the air. "Don't touch my woman." Connor has never loved Phoebe. But now that he does, it's already too late. There's no longer a place for him in her world.

We had been married for five years, but Chuck Gorman spent more than half his time at the condo opposite the river. He claimed that his older brother, Calvin, had passed away at a young age, leaving behind his widow, who had no one to depend on, and that as Calvin's brother, he was responsible for taking care of both families. This was a Gorman family value of upholding loyalty and kinship. I had believed his words then. To help him uphold his loyalty and dignity, I tolerated it whenever he was absent during important holidays and said nothing when he split his time between his sister-in-law and me during Christmas dinner. I even had to hold back my tongue when others mocked me for being a weak woman who was willing to 'share her husband'. However, Chuck had always been gentle yet distant when he spoke to me. This continued until we were involved in an accident with several collisions. The car we were in was wrecked. As I shielded my heavily pregnant belly, I broke out in cold sweat from the pain. I kept hitting the window while shouting, "Chuck! Save the baby…" Chuck climbed out from the driver's seat and glanced at my bleeding body, only to turn away to pry open the car door of the back seat. He shielded Sandi Lemming tightly in his arms, holding her against his chest despite her suffering only minor scratches on the forehead. "Don't look, Sandi. It's okay. I'm right here." He patted her gently on the back while comforting her over and over to calm her nerves. As for me, I was stuck inside the car due to the dented car door. I realized that it was not loyalty and kinship he was practising. He was just unable to see Sandi come to harm at all.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."