Novel & Cerita Happily Ever Afterwards

If someone would ask if series of unfortunate event is true, I volunteer to testify. For three decades, I have been unlucky with everything - love, family, career, success. And I blame loving Albert for all these misfortunes. Until one day, I was given a chance to do everything all over again. I woke up in my eighteen-year old body... The day before I met Albert.

"Sasha, Mira's already engaged to Vincent. Stop messing with it. We booked your flight. You'll stay overseas until after the wedding." The whole 'this is for your own good' routine was back. That's when Sasha Clarke realized—she'd been given a second shot. Right to the day her parents forced her out of the country and made her give up Vincent Scythe.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. I Was Never Yours is an emotional romance story about love, power, and emotional survival in a world where affection can feel like control. Amara once believed in love with her whole heart. She believed in promises made under soft lights, in quiet conversations that felt like forever, and in a future she thought was guaranteed by a man who made her feel deeply chosen, until he didn’t. Julian is a man shaped by control, success, and emotional distance. To him, vulnerability is weakness, and love is something he can manage rather than surrender to. Years ago, Amara and Julian shared something intense but undefined, a relationship built on emotional closeness without public labels or clear promises. It was passionate, quiet, and dangerously addictive in its secrecy. Then Julian walked away without explanation. Not with betrayal. Not with arguments. Just silence. Years later, fate forces them back into each other’s world when Amara becomes an employee in his powerful company. But time has changed everything. The girl who once waited quietly is gone. In her place stands a woman who understands emotional survival, boundaries, and self-worth. Now the power has shifted. Julian wants her back, not just as a lover, but as someone he can emotionally possess again. He begins careful, strategic moves to stay close to her, protect her, and slowly pull her back into his emotional orbit. But Amara has learned something dangerous from heartbreak. She can love him… but she refuses to belong to him. As emotions resurface, both must confront healing, obsession, pride, and the question of whether love is about holding on or choosing each other again every day.

Mia got involved with a married man and even had a child with him. When his wife found out the first time he asked them to take a break as he was busy sorting things out with his wife. It wasn't long before he went back to her. The second time she found out about her and the baby she fainted. The day she got out of the hospital she went looking for Mia and in their fight, she ended up killing her.

A young black girl with silver hair, who was raised by her loving mother until the age of 12, has been thrusted into the world of werewolves, on the account of her father being an Alpha. He only finds out about this daughter once her mother dies. But the strangest thing is, she has no wolf. She smells human, but she's definitely his. The alpha brought her to live with him, and during that time, they both discovered things about themselves that neither knew existed. She was never just "human," and his "mate" was never his to begin with. This human girl was, in fact, a long, foretold gift to the wovles and a destructive force on those who waged war on good.

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

Hakim was every girl's dream at Northwest High, and every guy's role model. He was hot, smart, popular, romantic and all, and every girl's dream was to get laid by him. He was living the dream life, but he had one single problem; Dante. Dante was the complete vice versa of Hakim. Soft, gentle, unnoticed, innocent, and these traits drew Hakim's heart towards him, and for that reason, Hakim hated him. He hated his lingering gazes and admiring glances, and he hated that he felt the need to hold him, to protect him, and for that reason he resolved to torment Dante, making his high school days unbearable. Dante was forever scarred by him, and his heart broke into pieces. Now, years later, after the two drifted apart, going on to their two separate worlds, Dante builds an image for himself, he is no longer the timid, innocent boy he was back at Northwest High, but is now a top corporate lawyer in the industry, and a fine one at that. What happens when he is hired by a law firm and finds out that his boss is no other person but Hakim? What will evolve as mysteries unfold and actual truth gets told?

After failing to pay back a dangerous politician and business tycoon the money he owes him, a father is forced to sell off his own daughter to him to repay the debt. His young daughter Acania has to suffer the consequences of this unhealthy union after he is long dead. A mysterious car crash took the lives of all the members of the family.

She returned with secrets that could destroy them both. He hates her. He wants her. And he’ll never forgive the only girl who still owns his heart. ***** I moaned into his mouth as Noah pressed me harder against the railing, his body solid and demanding against mine. One of his big hands slid down to grip my ass through the thin silk of my dress, squeezing possessively as he ground his hips forward. Gosh, he was rock hard. I could feel every thick inch of him. “Feel that?” he rasped against my lips. “That’s what watching you with him did to me. I’ve been hard all night thinking about dragging you somewhere dark and fucking the attitude right out of you.” My breath hitched, but I forced a smirk. “Poor baby. Jealousy looks good on you, Hale. Too bad you don’t deserve any of this.” He bit my bottom lip hard enough to make me gasp, then soothed the sting with his tongue. “You talk so much shit for someone whose nipples are hard enough to cut glass right now.” His free hand slid up my side, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast through the silk, sending heat straight between my legs. “Bet you’re soaked too. Bet if I pushed my hand between your thighs I’d find you dripping for the man you claim to hate.” “Keep dreaming,” I shot back, but my voice came out breathy and weak. My hips rolled against him anyway, chasing the friction I desperately needed.