Awakening Sleeping Novelas e Histórias

After five long years of dating, Winona Shaw finally said yes. I was elated, like a scavenger who'd struck gold. I put everything I had into the engagement party, but out of the blue, Winona embraced Claude Landton instead. She even tried to frame me and boot me to jail. I canceled the party and called the cops instead. That made Winona mad, and Claude started panicking. Icily, I said, "Now, calm down. We have a lot of trials to go through. See you in court."

I jump off the seventh floor on my wedding day. Why? Because everyone has abandoned me to pick up a fake heiress from the airport, my fiancé included. I expect to see them riddled with heartbreak and regret after my death. However, my father merely shakes his head stoically and looks at my body while saying I was too willful. My mother bites her lip and sighs in relief. My fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, shields the fake heiress. He's afraid she'll see the horrible state of my body. The fake heiress is scared to tears at this, and everyone crowds around her to console her. No one cares whether I'm still breathing while lying in a pool of blood. I'm stunned when I see this, but I soon laugh self-deprecatingly. When I open my eyes again, I've been brought back seven years in the past. It's the day I've just stepped foot at home.

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

My husband, Dante, the Consigliere of the Falcone family, and I hated each other more than any two people on earth. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because his heart had never been mine. We shared a bed for seven years, but the words we exchanged most were not of love, but of venomous curses. But on the night a rival family's motorcade stormed the estate, everything changed. I remember the firefight lighting up half the city. Dante threw himself in front of me, shielding me with his body. "Survive," he said, his voice as steady as ever. He drew his gun. As he turned to face them, a hailstorm of bullets erupted. As armor-piercing rounds tore through his vest and slammed into his body, he turned to look at me. It was the only time in seven years he had ever looked me in the eye. His large frame barred the doorway, stopping any gunman from crossing the threshold. "If there's a next life, promise me this, Principessa. Let me protect the one I was always meant to." That night, the glory of our family turned to ash, and the streets ran red with blood. As our enemies closed in, I triggered the explosives in the car. The flames consumed everything. When I opened my eyes again, I was walking into my father's study. "The family in Ashpoint needs a bride to seal a truce," I said, meeting the gaze of my father, the Don of the Falcone family. "I'll go." In my past life, he died believing he had failed my half-sister, Sofia. This time, I wouldn't let that regret haunt him. I would take Sofia's place and board the flight north. Let Sofia stay. Let Dante protect the woman he was meant to protect. But why, when he lifted the white veil of the woman he loved in this life, did he regret it?

All my life, I have been trapped in the shadow of my sister, Selene. She was the Silver Moon Pack's Daughter of Moonlight, blessed by the Moon Goddess, the prize every Alpha coveted. What she didn't know was that this time, I had been blessed as well. I was reborn on the night of my mating ceremony. Just as in my past life, she smiled that harmless smile, insisting on giving me the first choice of a mate, maintaining her perfect facade of a generous and doting sister in front of everyone. This time, however, I wouldn't give her the chance. In my last life, I genuinely believed she had my best interests at heart. I foolishly gave her the first choice and chose Alpha Damien of the Black Forest Pack, a man who suffered from Moon Sickness, sending him into frequent, uncontrollable rages. I gave up my birthright within the pack and became the balm for his violent wolf, staying by his side every moment like a full-time caretaker, even though he never offered me a single ounce of a mate's affection. It was not until a Rogue wolf attacked during the celebration for Selene's heir that he attempted to use dark magic to steal her unborn pup's spirit. In that instant, the Alpha who everyone believed had been lost to madness for years was suddenly lucid. He lunged forward to protect Selene, but in his haste, he accidentally pulled me into the path of the dark magic. The spell struck me instead, crippling my wolf spirit. Only then did I finally understand. He had never truly suffered from Moon Sickness. His pack had never seen him as a discarded monster. He had feigned madness only because he knew he could never have Selene's love and refused to bond with anyone but her. In my final moments, he apologized to me. "Forgive me, Elara." "I could never let anything happen to Selene. I'll repay you in my next life." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night our father ordered us to choose our destined mates. This time, they were the ones begging for my love.

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."

My husband and I take leave from work to travel to Highland. It's also an opportunity for me to return to my hometown. Unexpectedly, we get into a fight over the itinerary on our first day there. I snap at him when we're standing by the side of the road, but he calms me down. He even coaxes me and offers to pay for a nice meal at a restaurant. When I return to the hotel, I discover that he's run off with my luggage and mobile phone. He even leaves a message telling me to reflect on my mistakes. I borrow a phone to call him, but he doesn't answer. It's freezing in Highland. I'm almost about to die from the frost when I suddenly see sense. I'm not putting up with this anymore!

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.

As a healer, I keep taking in emergency patients around the clock just so I can save up enough money for a luxurious family trip. But after transferring the money into the family account, my mate, Leonard Cross, announces that he will be taking the entire family on the trip, whereas I'm required to stay at home. Everyone supports his decision. "Don't you always take overtime shifts on your day off? That's why I never considered the fact that you can go on this trip with us." I'm pissed, to say the least. "So, the four of you will be going, eh?" My sister-in-law, Rita Cross, pipes up, "Cassandra and Hannah will be joining us too." Cassandra Davis is Leonard's childhood sweetheart, whereas Hannah is the family's pet dog. It seems that everyone has received an invitation but me. After staying quiet for another beat, I nod. "Fine." Soon, I accept the three-year dispatch request to another place that's offered to me by my workplace. I also take the liberty to put the house—which I own the deed to—on sale. Since my family supports my career this much, I'm sure they will do the same when I decide to buy myself a new place to live for the sake of my business trip, right?