Coat Synonym Novels & Stories

Jasamina Rutherford was forced by her parents to marry a politician who's so much years older than she is, because they wanted money and social influence. Ludale McCully is a beast in human form and a psycho. He abused her a lot. But, when she gave birth to her baby and he beat her so badly, Jasamina damned all the consequences and ran away with her new born baby. Out on the cold streets; bruised and battered, no food, money or supplies, and with a baby hidden inside her coat, she was at the end of her rope when she ran into him. ***** Tanner Dantes lost his family in the most brutal way a person would loose a lost one. It was so traumatizing and horrifying that he took to the streets. He drank himself to stupor, just to keep the memories at bay. Sober is not an option, because sober means remembering. Then, a woman ran into him one cold dark night. She was so bruised, there was no part of her body that wasn't 'occupied' with either a fresh or an old wound/bruise/scar. And, she has a baby strapped so protectively inside her clothes. She fainted in his arms. . . A woman on the run from her powerful psychotic husband and a man who'll drink himself to death than to go sober and let reality in. How will they heal? Was she able to escape her husband? With Tanner's state of mind threatened, will be help Jasamina? Can he stay sober long enough? Especially when she reminds him of everything he's trying to forget? With this two damaged soul trying to wrap their lives around each other, how did they overcome their greatest enemy of all? Why don't you go on this ride with me, let's find out!

On the day I'm due for my labor, Chad Nelson's first love, Lucy Baker, who's diagnosed with depression, barges into the maternity ward. Without warning, she plunges the knife she's holding into my belly. By the time Chad and the medical team arrive at the ward, I'm already lying in a pool of my own blood on the bed. The machine recording my vitals keeps screeching loudly the whole time. But Chad crouches down next to Lucy, who has gotten shoved to the floor by a nurse earlier. It seems that her elbow has suffered from light abrasions. "Dr. Nelson, your spouse is in critical condition. She needs to undergo a surgery immediately!" Chad raises his head to glance at me. His tone is cool and professional. "None of Caitlin's vital organs are hurt by the stab, so she can still endure the pain for now. Lucy, on the other and, has a coagulation disorder. Even though she has only suffered from abrasions, there's a chance that her blood flow can't be staunched at all. This makes her situation more critical than Caitlin's. "Anyway, give the two bags of blood in the blood bank to Lucy." When I get pushed away, I use all of my strength to grip Chad's white coat tightly. He just frowns at me in return. "Lucy didn't do this on purpose. Her depression has gotten triggered, that's all. Since you're a woman of medicine, you should be more empathetic toward the patient." After that, Chad digs out a letter of forgiveness from his pocket that he has already printed out in advance.

"CODE BLUE!" shouts the nurse at the emergency room accompanied by a flat-line in the cardiac monitor. Clive Aster arrived in his matte black Audi in his all white coat. Upon hearing the wailing sound of the cardiac monitor, he immediately removed his coat and jumped to the patient's location. "I'll start CPR!" as he jumped to the patient's side and started pumping. "Administer Epinephrine now!" he shouted again. Then the cardiac monitor goes tooot-tooot-tooot. There's a heartbeat! The patient was saved. Clive Aster is a well-known doctor. He has mastered multiple specialties which includes Emergency Medicine, Neuro and Cardiac Surgery. Nobody in the City Hospital knows who he was. He just came in today and rushed to the patient immediately. When the commotion was over, the director of the City Hospital, Celeste Klatt, came in and welcomed him. "Welcome Dr. Aster! Welcome to your new home." Celeste shook Clive's hand and gave him a light kiss on the cheeks. "Parting ways seemed like yesterday, Celeste. It's nice seeing you again." "It's lovely seeing you again too, Clive. Come, follow me to my office." When they entered Celeste's office, Celeste ordered Clive to kiss her to which he abode. "Kiss me! I've missed you!" Clive started to kiss Celeste on her cheeks, then to her lips down to her neck and back to her lips again and he stopped! Slap! Celeste's hand landed on Clive's face. "Who told you to stop?!" Celeste angrily asked. "You never changed Celeste." Clive fixed his face and left Celeste's office.

Dr. Elara Vance's life is defined by exhaustion, crushing student loans, and grueling 30-hour residency shifts. Her passion for medicine is her singular focus until the brutal, careless discovery of her boyfriend Daniel’s long-running affair shatters her foundation. Seeking oblivion, she allows her best friend to drag her into Manhattan's elite world, where she collides with Liam Sterling, the notoriously private and ruthlessly efficient tech CEO. ​Their intense, desperate one-night stand is a blur of emotional destruction, a mistake Elara vows to bury. But weeks later, fate delivers an impossible complication: she is pregnant with the tech mogul's child. ​Liam, a master of cold, transactional risk management, moves swiftly to contain the scandal. He ambushes Elara with the "White Coat Contract," an impersonal legal offer promising immediate, full payment of her crippling medical school debt and complete financial security. But his protection comes with a crushing price: Elara must resign or significantly scale back her demanding residency. This requirement threatens to extinguish the medical career she bled for, forcing her to choose between stability and her identity. ​Forced into this high-stakes arrangement, Elara enters Liam's sterile, controlled world, furious at the man who views her life’s work as a liability. Yet, their forced proximity blurs the sharp lines of the contract. She brings chaos and warmth to his ordered life, and he, in turn, sees the fierce dedication that transcends her financial profile. With her professional life precariously balanced, Elara must decide if Liam’s love is worth the risk of losing her identity, and he must decide if his obsession with control is worth losing the only person who has ever truly challenged the sterile efficiency of his world.

Five years ago, Mannie accidentally had a night with a man. In result, she was pregnant with 8 children! When she thought she was going to raise the 8 babies alone, she met him again... That man, or should she say the Alpha, who took her first time five years ago... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He stepped closer, hands in his coat pockets. “I think I know you.” “I don’t think so,” I said, annoyed. “You were at a hotel five years ago.” I blinked. “Excuse me?” He stared at me like I was supposed to react. “It was raining. You were wearing a maid’s uniform.” I took a step back. “Are you for real right now?” “You don’t remember?” I laughed dryly. “I’ve worked in hotels, cleaned rooms, mopped floors, but I don’t remember you.” He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember anything?” I shook my head. “Look, I don’t know what fantasy you’re living in, but I’m not part of it.” “I’m not guessing,” he said softly. “It was you.” “Wow,” I muttered. “Okay, so let me guess. You walk up to women, tell them you had a special night five years ago, and hope they fall for it?” “No,” he said firmly. “You feel... familiar.” “And you feel insane,” I snapped. “Why are you even following me?” “I just thought maybe we had a connection—” “No,” I cut him off. “You saw me on stage and thought I’d be an easy target. That’s all this is. Another rich man thinking he can throw out a few charming lines and get what he wants.”

For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover. After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly. He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!" When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window. I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and blood!" Sam replied coldly, "Nicole needs specimen for her experiments. All I'm doing is providing her with the materials she needs." His words dug into my heart like icy spikes, and I could even hear my own bones cracking. "As for Penelope…" He chuckled. "Do you think that our marriage certificate is the real deal?" Snowflakes stung my face like needles, and I finally found out the truth about our marriage. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a living test subject for the woman he truly loved. Sam was right. Those unborn children never even had legal identities, and were worth less than a piece of paper, just like my so-called marriage. Glass shattered from inside the room, and I could hear Wren cursing, but I turned and walked towards the elevator. Since Sam's priority was Nicole and nothing else, I was hell-bent on making him pay the price.

By the time I hit twenty without a husband, I'd become the joke of Butcher's Alley. I wasn't about to just take it, so I marched out to the pauper's graveyard and dragged home a half-dead man I found there. He was gorgeous. More handsome than any portrait I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that he'd lost his memory and wasn't quite right in the head. It didn't matter that he couldn't lift a crate or carry a load, that he nearly fainted dead away the first time he watched me slaughter a pig. I slapped my knee and made up my mind. "You're the one. You handle looking pretty, and I'll handle bringing home the bacon." I named him Walt and treated him like he was made of glass. I fed him well, kept him comfortable, and slowly nursed him back to health until his cheeks were full and his skin was soft. Then I started planning the wedding. On our wedding night, I'd just gotten his wedding coat off when the front door flew off its hinges. Hundreds of royal guards dropped to their knees all at once, their voices shaking the walls. "Welcome back to the capital, Grand Chancellor!" I looked down at the man beneath me. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and sharp. The belt I'd been holding snapped right in two. I was done for. I'd been bossing around the most powerful man in the empire for six months and using him as a house husband. Was I looking at death by slow torture, or would they wipe out my entire family?

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

The next thing she knew was that she was slung on his muscular shoulder. She thrashed her legs, but he carried her as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. "Caelum please!" She begged him but he ignored her as he walked through the corridors and into the bedroom. And threw her on the bed. While she was busy recovering her breath, he threw his coat on the floor and started unbuttoning his shirt. "W-what are y-you doing?" she asked. Her face paler than paper. "Exactly what married couples do, love." He said dropping the shirt on the floor, His voice so full of viciousness that she almost choked on them. She dragged herself back on the bed sobbing, "no.." He grabbed her legs and pulled her towards himself. He crawled on top of her. He looked into her terrified eyes and whispered, "You make me do terrible things, my dear Rose." He wiped a stray tear from her chin before grabbing it. "I will bruise your lip and scar your knees and love you too hard.." he brushed his lips on hers, "I will destroy you. And when I leave, You will finally understand why storms are named after humans." ........................... Rosette never had an easy life, and after the death of her mother, when she thought things couldn't get worse, her life started going fully downhill. She was tortured beyond repair in her own house. She could only dream of being loved. She dreamed of getting married and finally breaking free from all these cages, but fate had other plans for her. Her life going totally downhill, turned upside down when she was married to the biggest business tycoon in the city. Will this marriage totally wreck her? Would she ever be able to break free?..

On the night of our third anniversary, Killian missed dinner again. Texted me he was working late at the auto shop. I looked at the $5.90 clearance cake on the table. I'd fought a crowd at the grocery store to buy it. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat. We need to save for a real house in Brooklyn, I told myself. I put the cake in the fridge. I wrapped my cheap coat tight and walked into the cold to deliver late-night takeout for extra cash. I never expected to run into my "poor" husband at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. He stepped out of a Rolls-Royce in a sharp custom suit, tossing hundred-dollar bills to the valet. A hot woman wearing a priceless pigeon-blood ruby followed behind him, hooking his arm. "Killian, it's snowing so hard. Are you really going back to Brooklyn to play house with your naive little peasant wife?" she whined. Killian looked at the cheap, tarnished silver ring on his finger. A hint of softness crossed his cold eyes. "For three years, she worked five jobs a day to pay off the fake debts I made up. She wouldn't even see a doctor when she was sick." "That's enough. She passed my test. Once I deal with the rat in the family, I'll tell her everything. Give her the glory she deserves as my Donna." The woman bit her lip. "What if she finds out you're a Mafia Don and is just after your money? Why not tell her you have a terminal illness—see if she'll drain her savings to save you. Test her one more time…" Killian stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "One last test. After this, I'm giving her the grandest wedding." The freezing wind howled. I gripped the paper takeout bag. Tears rolled down my face without a sound. I am done with this arrogant, lying love.