He Started It Novels & Stories

The moment I find out about my pregnancy, a notification from Twitter is displayed on my phone. Apparently, it's a tweet posted by my husband, Don Romano Caliendo's childhood friend, Teresa Fiorino. "Thanks to your sperm, I get to have a child of my own during the last stage of my life." The accompanying photo is a pregnancy test that clearly states that the sperm donor is Romano. I leave a question mark in the comment section. In just half a minute, my phone begins ringing loudly. Romano's angry voice bursts from the loudspeakers immediately. I've only heard him adapt such a tone whenever he gets mad at others during family meetings. "What did you mean by that comment, Selene Gardo? Teresa is dying from cancer! All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company before she breathes her last! Don't you have any sympathy for her at all?" Before I can put down my phone, my Twitter homepage gets refreshed. This time, Teresa has uploaded another photo. It features a luxurious deluxe-style apartment, where the floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the breathtaking cityscape of Brindleport at night. The caption reads, "Thank you for giving me a home so that I don't feel lonely in my final days." In a corner of the photo, Romano can be seen crouching on the floor while piecing a baby cot together. His side profile shows how focused he is on the task. As I wipe my tears from the corners of my eyes, I silently caress my flat belly, which has yet to show any changes. I'll take you far, far away from here, my dear baby.

After years together, we finally hit our wedding day. At the altar, Damien Huxley had the ring halfway on my finger when his old college crush from Francia called. The guy everyone swore loved me more than his own life? His eyes went red. Then he bolted for the airport. My hand froze midair. Then a stream of comments popped up in front of me— [Oh my god, guys! I just saw his old crush's profile pic—she looks exactly like the new cadaver donor at our school!] [No way. Don't freak me out. Keep that creepy comment away from me!] [Either they're twins, or you need glasses. Chill.] I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I knew about Damien's old crush—our college classmate. But I remembered one thing clearly. She was an only child...

Dante Valieri, the most sought-after mafia lawyer in New York, had just signed his own name on my divorce papers. But he had no idea. Because while he was signing them, his eyes never left Camille. The second Camille walked in, Dante had already looked up. He watched her disappear into the lounge before finally turning back to me. “What did I just sign?” “Nothing important. You never really look at the things I hand you anyway.” He started toward the lounge. “Next time, just send it to my phone. Don’t make a special trip.” As he closed the door behind him, I heard him say to Camille— “You came so early. I was worried I’d miss you.” And just like that, I was shut out on the other side of the door. You won’t miss anything anymore, Dante. In ten days, I’ll be going home. After that, no one will interrupt the two of you ever again.

Seven years married to Adrian Locke. For me, he tore the unbreakable scale from his own body and left the deep sea for dry land. For him, I left everything and moved to the beastkin world. To everyone else we were the most loving couple. Even I believed it. Then he started coming home carrying a fox scent that wouldn't wash off, and every illusion I had about him shattered. The late nights came more often. The nights he didn't come home at all came more often. I knew it was time for us to end. And then that woman sent me the results of her pregnancy test. I filed to dissolve our marriage with the Beastkin Authority and bought a one-way ticket back to the human world. Adrian, if you can't promise me your love is mine alone, then I won't take any of it. From now on, we never see each other again.

A campus love story about trust, betrayal, and discovering the strength within yourself. How much can you endure when the one you love is not fully yours

💔"I want a divorce." Those four words shatter Stella Ford's world just as the woman who stole everything from her returns home. Trapped in a loveless marriage, blamed for a tragedy she never caused, and silenced by the people meant to protect her, Stella has spent years paying for someone else's lies. But as old secrets begin resurfacing and Detective Daniel Hayes reopens a buried investigation, the truth threatening two powerful families can no longer stay hidden. While Ella fights to reclaim Scario Ford, Stella must decide whether to keep surviving in silence—or finally expose the betrayal that changed her life forever.

Behind the glamorous facade of a billionaire marriage, a toxic game of cat and mouse is unfolding. Maya Perkins thought she had it all - a jaw-droppingly handsome husband, Larry Jonathan, a life of luxury, and a love that would last forever. But when Larry's obsession with Brandy Owens, the seductive widow of his late friend (and campus sweetheart!), threatens to destroy everything, Maya is forced to make the one phone call she swore she'd never make. Lies, deceit, and betrayal collide in a shocking tale of love, lust, and the true cost of perfection. Will Maya survive the wreckage of her marriage, or will she become the latest casualty of a love that's gone lethally wrong?

Alia is a skilled thief who, in search of a legendary treasure, sneaks into a castle under the cover of night. However, she unexpectedly witnesses the castle’s owner, the handsome and cold-hearted billionaire Marcellus, murder his wife. In the chaos of her escape, Alia is discovered and killed by him. But death isn’t the end. Alia wakes up to find herself reborn a year earlier, this time in the body of the wife Marcellus had killed—Livia. Faced with the man who had once killed her, now acting outwardly kind but still harboring deadly intentions, Alia knows she must uncover the truth within a year and avoid the same tragic fate. Her plan? Escape the castle and steal the treasure. During her time in the castle, Alia discovers that Livia’s identity is far from simple, and she soon finds herself tangled in a deeper conspiracy. Marcellus’s younger brother, Elias, has a close, secret relationship with Livia, one that seems to involve hidden feelings. As Alia secretly investigates Marcellus’s true intentions, she is drawn to his conflicting mixture of gentleness and coldness. At the same time, the body of Livia compels her to develop feelings for Elias, whose tender care for her awakens a sense of warmth. Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, Alia realizes that every person’s motives are more complex than they first appear, and she must make difficult choices between truth, revenge, love, and survival. As the one-year deadline approaches, the conspiracy unfolds, and Marcellus’s true intentions toward Livia are exposed. Alia finally finds a chance to escape. But with emotions tangled and fate inextricably linked to the castle, will she choose revenge and freedom, or will she find redemption and true love within the deadly walls of the castle?

Rule one of surviving a werewolf rejection: don't look back. Rule two: definitely don't move into an apartment directly below his human ex-girlfriend. Rule three: under no circumstances allow him to follow you to the human world. I have broken all three rules in under a month. My name is Zoya Fennel, and five weeks ago, Casen Wolfe — Alpha of the Silveroak Pack, certified heartbreaker, and the most beautiful man the Moon Goddess ever put together on a Thursday — stood at the end of the aisle during our bonding ceremony and said, in front of everyone I have ever loved: "She is not my true mate. I reject the bond." And just like that, the life I'd been planning since I was sixteen years old dissolved in front of three hundred witnesses and one very startled officiant. So I did what any self-respecting, moderately devastated she-wolf would do. I walked out. I moved to the city. I got a frankly excellent apartment with a fire escape view and a coffee shop downstairs. I started living my life. What I did not plan for was discovering — three weeks later, via a very confused text from my sister — that Casen has left the pack, abandoned his Alpha title, moved to the same city, and is currently standing outside my building in the rain. He says he made a mistake. He says the woman he thought was his true mate turned out to be nothing of the sort. He says he's been going out of his mind since the rejection ceremony because the bond he severed — the one he publicly destroyed — is the only one he's ever felt. I say: that sounds like a you problem. Except then he gets a job at the coffee shop downstairs.

The day I won the eight-million-dollar East Harbor renovation bid, I handed the lead role to Grace Whitman, Ethan Hale’s childhood sweetheart. Ethan thought I had finally learned to be sensible. He happily told me he was taking me to the Maldives for our wedding anniversary. Grace found out that night. She pretended the pressure from work was too much and cried uncontrollably. Ethan panicked so badly that he canceled a board meeting, stayed with her for three days, then called our anniversary trip an emergency client visit and gave Grace the second ticket. When he called me, his tone was still calm, almost entitled. “Sofia, we can talk about emotional stuff later. The company comes first right now. Grace has never handled a project this big on her own. I need to be there with her.” “You’re my wife. You should understand.” I sat alone in our empty apartment and looked at the photo Grace had just posted. In the private airport lounge, Ethan had draped his jacket over her shoulders. Their knees almost touched. Her caption read, [Some people never have to say love. They just show up first, every time.] I didn’t question him. I didn’t cry. I only replied, [Okay.] Ethan probably thought I had finally learned my place. Satisfied, he promised that when he came back, he would give me an even better anniversary. What he didn’t know was that I had already submitted my resignation to Hale Creative. And he didn’t know that the document he had signed three days ago wasn’t a project authorization form. It was our divorce agreement. By the time he realized what he had lost, I was no longer Mrs. Hale. I was Sofia Bellandi again. And Bellandi women do not beg for seats at tables they built.