Doctors Novels & Stories

Vivian Grant lost her memory and forgot everything about me. Her memory stopped in the year when she loved her ex-husband most. No matter how the people around her tried to explain it, she still believed I was the third party who had come between them. The doctors said her amnesia might be treatable, so I held on to that hope and refused to let go. For three years, we got divorced and remarried over and over again. We became the biggest joke in the city's elite circles. Some people even started betting on us. They bet on when I would finally give up, and when Vivian would finally remember. Then news of our eighth divorce hit the trending charts again. Reporters rushed into the law firm with cameras on their shoulders. They shoved microphones in my face, their questions full of provocation. "Mr. Sterling, as a divorce attorney, how does it feel to have been divorced eight times yourself?" The firm's sign was smashed. The commendation banners clients had given me were trampled underfoot. Before I could respond, my supervisor fired me for damaging the profession's reputation. "Julian Sterling, let me give you some advice. Have some self-respect. Stop clinging to Ms. Grant." I clenched my trembling hands and suddenly felt exhausted. They were right. This time, I really should give up.

My mother-in-law, Claire Rogers, had taken a turn for the worse with her leukemia and slipped into a coma. The doctors said she needed a bone marrow transplant urgently. I called my husband, Martin Hughes, the hospital director who had access to the bone marrow registry. All he had to do was sign off on the match, and she would be saved. Martin answered right away and drove straight to the hospital without a second thought. However, halfway there, he got a mysterious call and vanished without a trace. I watched Claire Roger's heart monitor grow weaker and weaker, frantically dialing Martin's number 99 times. On the 100th call, he finally picked up. My voice was shaking, panic bleeding through every word. "Martin, Mom needs the bone marrow transplant. You're the only one who can authorize the match. Please, come back!" All I heard was his quiet breathing on the other end. Before he could say anything, Waverly Tucker's voice cut through the silence."Darling, thank you so much for doing my bone marrow transplant surgery! How about I repay you with my body?" My phone slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor. So, that was where he had been all this time, performing surgery on Waverly. While I desperately needed him, he had abandoned his family to be with another woman.

Elara is not a fighter. She is a healer. Her power is the rarest in the werewolf world. It was meant to protect her Pack and secure her place next to Alpha Kael, her destined mate. However, on the night of their claimed bond, Kael rejected her. He labelled her power a deadly threat. With a brutal and calculated act, he wounded himself with wolfsbane and publicly turned Elara away. She had to choose between saving the man who humiliated her or proving his belief that she was too dangerous to love. She saved him, but that night, the healer inside her died. Banished and broken, Elara sheds the blood-soaked title of healer and retreats into the shadows. She finds an ancient master who teaches her not patience, but poison. Instead of comfort, he shows her retribution. She learns to harness her past pain, using the volatile wolfsbane as her weapon. Five years later, the once-strong Lunar Pack is suffering from a mysterious illness that even their best doctors can't cure. They must look beyond their borders for help. Elara returns with a new name and a clever disguise. She is armed with charm and a dark plan. She is the Pack's only hope, and she will bring about the Alpha's downfall. Her revenge has a careful strategy. The closer she gets to healing his body, the closer she gets to ending his reign. But to destroy the Alpha, she must risk reigniting the very mate bond she vowed to forget.

In the high-stakes world of the elite, Seraphina Rossi is an invisible woman. The unacknowledged daughter of a billionaire dynasty, her acting career has been strangled by her own father, leaving her desperate to fund her comatose mother’s medical bills. But a night of terror at the exclusive Vault Club sends her fleeing into the one place she should never be: the penthouse of Czar Alexander Mordrake. Known as the "Shadow Sovereign," Czar is the most powerful man on three continents—and the most isolated. He lives in a sterile, golden cage, cursed by a lethal, unexplained "allergy" to women that makes even the slightest touch a death sentence. Until he wakes up next to Seraphina. When Czar survives their accidental encounter, the world-shattering discovery turns Seraphina from a fugitive into a biological miracle. Czar offers her a cold, calculated deal: he will settle her debts and save her mother if she becomes his "medical lab rat" and private assistant. As doctors scramble to find the secret in Seraphina's blood, a dangerous game of obsession and power begins. While the cold walls of the Mordrake estate begin to thaw between the lonely mogul and the resilient actress, a web of shadows is tightening around them. In a world where touch is a weapon and love is a lab result, Seraphina and Czar must decide if they are each other’s cure—or if the truth behind the Sovereign’s shadow will destroy them both before the first real touch can even happen.

I exercised too hard during the day and, by midnight, a sharp pain tore through my stomach. When I checked my pants, there was blood. I called my friend immediately and had him rush me to the hospital. The moment I finished explaining my symptoms, the doctor did not even pause to think before saying, "This is a potential miscarriage. We need to start treatment right away." My eyes went wide. I opened my mouth to protest, but she steamrolled right over me. Her gaze dripped with contempt. "I see dozens of patients every day. I know exactly what you women are like. Probably had abortion after abortion in school with zero self-respect. Now that you're getting older, you want to trap some nice guy into cleaning up your mess." I had never met such an unprofessional doctor in my life. Anger flared in my chest, and I threatened to report her on the spot. She barely blinked. "Touched a nerve, huh? I'm just trying to help you out here. Doctors have it so hard these days. Tell someone the truth and complaints are all you get." The whispers started around me. People staring, judging, pointing. I had truly had enough. Had it occurred to literally anyone that I might just be a guy with long hair?

After the car accident, one of the Johnson sons was dead and the other gravely injured. When my devout, devoted husband woke up in the hospital, he called out, "Dorothy." He claimed that his body then held the soul of his brother, Elias Johnson. I went mad, calling doctors, priests, anyone I could, desperate to bring my husband back. It was not until that night that I overheard his conversation with our son: "Father, you've loved aunt for years. You even kept yourself chaste in your private prayer room, waiting. Now, finally, you can be with her openly." The man in the bed reached out to stroke our son's hair. "If it weren't to stop your mother from destroying her relationship, I wouldn't have married her." I hid in the shadows, still reeling from their words, when I saw what happened after our son left. The husband I had always known, icy, composed, and ascetic to maintain his devout faith for seven years, was then holding his sister-in-law close on that tiny hospital bed, sharing a warmth meant for lovers. The next day, I applied for Jim Johnson's death certificate and burned our marriage certificate. At his grand wedding, I climbed aboard the helicopter sent to fetch me. However, my once-cold husband went mad, chasing after us down several streets, desperate and unhinged.

“I didn’t just save your sister’s life, Elara. I bought yours. And I’m a man who expects a return on his investment.” Elara didn’t have options. Her sister was dying, the doctors had given up, and the only thing left in the house was an old grimoire and a ritual she was never supposed to touch. So she touched it. Now she belongs to Vane ,demon, Duke of the Seventh Circle, and the most terrifying man she has ever stood in front of. He doesn’t look like what she expected. He looks like someone who buys companies before breakfast and ruins people for sport. Cold, beautiful, and completely unbothered by the fact that he now owns her life. The deal was simple. Her sister lives. Elara obeys. Except the mark he burned into her skin doesn’t say owned. It says sacrifice. And the more time she spends inside his world , his rules, his house, his dangerous, suffocating presence ,the more she realises that Vane didn’t just answer her call that night. He’d been expecting it. She just doesn’t know why yet. And maybe that’s the most terrifying thing about him not the power, not the contract, not the way he looks at her like she’s something he’s been waiting centuries for. It’s that she’s starting to look back.

" Please make sure she does not have any memory of me, give her all the love she deserves Di, I am leaving my two precious treasures with you, " Shayra said as she took off her nuptial chain and handed it to Sherlin. Sherlin tried her best not to break down in front of her; " Yash give her all the happiness you can OK she should not feel her mother is not anymore with her, " SHayra said as she looked at him. the red color in Sherlin's hair portion was more than enough to keep her at peace; " Leave us alone, " Yash said as Sherlin walked out of the room leaving Yash, Shayra, and their Ahana alone. " let me take you to the world's best doctors Shayra, I can not, we ... Can not live without you, think about Ahana, " Yash said well begged her. " And what will be the result of that Yash? I'll get to live a few more days of this painful life than I will need to leave, " Shayra said as she bites her lips to stop herself from crying. " Shayra, " Yash was about to say when Shayra put her finger on his lips. " sushh... let me give you my goodbye, please, " Shayra whispered as Yash nodded, it was difficult for him to say his last goodbye to her.

Nelson Smith has been struggling for survival due to kidney failure. Without a transplant, he has less than four months to live. No one in his family matched after tests were done. Not even his siblings, parents or cousins, except for one person, Janice Capuno, his wife. Janice used to be the darling of a wealthy Dynasty, until she hid her identity and married the man she loves, Nelson Smith, against her parent's wishes. Instead of getting love, she was treated like a servant by her mother-in-law, mocked as a gold-digger by her sister in-law, but for her husband, his love towards her remained unshakable. He'd never ceased defending and protecting her from his family, that's why when the doctors confirmed her to be a match, she didn't hesitate to get herself cut open to save Nelson's life. **** There was barely thirty minutes to the surgery, and Janice was already in her hospital gown, waiting to get cut and her kidney given out to save her husband's life, when the reality of everything she had believed in came changing in her eyes. "Babe....my phone...switch it off...battery." Nelson pointed to his bag weakly before the sedative took full action on him. Just before she'll put the phone off, a WhatsApp notification suddenly popped up. It was from Tricia, his University ex-girlfriend. "Baby, has the fool gone into the theatre yet? I can't wait for this to be over. Once you get the kidney, we're done with her." The message read. Want to know what happened next?

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.