No Scars In Heaven Novels & Stories

In existence shaped by order and opposition, two beings cross a line that was never meant to be crossed. An angel and a devil, born from different realms, find themselves drawn together in a way neither side could have predicted. What begins as closeness turns into something deeper, something forbidden. Love. But Heaven, the very force that created love, refuses to accept it. Their bond is seen as a flaw. A mistake. A defiance of everything they were meant to be. Despite everything, they choose each other. They try to hold on, to fight for what they feel, even as they are judged, even as they are pushed apart by the very laws that shaped them. If love was created by Heaven, why is it denied? And when even love is seen as wrong... can they change the fate that was already decided for them?

Heaven never dreamed of marrying into a family as rich and powerful as the Wiles family, but an arranged marriage bound her to Damien Wiles and knowing he didn’t care about her didn’t stop her from falling for him completely. Unfortunately, all she got in return for her love and devotion was a marriage full of pain and coldness yet she selflessly sacrificed herself when Damien was shot at. After being trapped in a coma for five years, Heaven finally wakes up but doesn’t remember anything. At her bedside stands Damien, no longer the cold, heartless husband he once was—not that she even remembers, and a little boy who calls her “Mommy.” Knowing that Heaven doesn’t remember their loveless marriage, and the pain that once defined her life because of him, Damien will now stop at nothing to win back the woman he once destroyed—even if it means lying to her and pretending they were the perfect couple before her accident. But memories have a way of returning, no matter how deeply they’ve been buried. And when Heaven finally regains hers, the truth of Damien’s betrayal and the agony of her past come crashing back. Faced with the lies he spun and the love he now offers, Heaven must decide whether she can forgive the man who broke her beyond repair… or if some wounds can never truly heal.

Diki Reandi is a member of the Indonesian Air Force International, has a cold demeanor and is talkative. He is 28 years old and at this time, he is involved in solving problems in the past which all started from the disappointment experienced by a man named Kenzo Albert. In the middle of a wedding with his wife. He had a deep loss. The woman who had only been his wife for 1 minute died in front of him. His family and friends died where what was supposed to be happy news turned into sad news. "Nokkkk!" Kenzo shouted when he saw his wife's incomplete body in front of him. In the luxury mension with a classic style, a beautiful woman is seen sitting on a chair equipped with a hand and an arm. "You're mean!" shouted Dissa leaking Kenzo Albert's handsome face. "I don't care, how you judge myself, the most important thing is that you are born again. I have the right to have you. I will avenge everything they did to us first. Wait for my play!" said Kenzo by leaking sharp like an eagle in front of Dissa Richard. "Stop! Don't try my sister or I will break your hands," threatened Diki Reandi running towards them. Will Diki save Dissa from Kenzo's clutches? or Dissa must choose Kenzo to save innocent people?

My dad has died in a car crash when I'm seven years old. So, my mom marries her first love, Robert Hayes, and integrates me into his family. During the first meal with my new family, Robert announces a newly instated family rule. "From now on, we have to split the bills in this family." Once I eat a piece of steak, Robert tells me to pay him 300 dollars for the meal. I just look at my stepsister, Harper Hayes, who's digging into her meal happily. "Harper ate steak as well. Why didn't you ask her to pay you back, Dad?" "That's because Harper's my biological daughter. I love her, and she has the bloodline privileges," Robert answers. Then, I glance at Mom. So, Robert adds, "Your mom is my wife. I love her, which means she has privileges as well. But in your case, we're not related by blood, nor do we have any ties of affection with each other. I'm not obligated to raise you at all, Maddie."

On the eve of my wedding, my fiance's first love, Sasha Green, ruined my custom-made wedding dress worth a fortune. The gown split open down the back. I had to crouch down and clutched my chest with both hands to keep myself from being exposed. She stood there holding a pair of scissors, looking at me with an innocent expression. "Anthea, I'm really sorry. I used a little bit too much force, and I accidentally ruined your dress. Please don't blame me." My fiance, Gary Dome, immediately went up to her and took the scissors from her hand. His voice was full of concern for her. "Why would she blame you? You were just trying to help trim some loose threads. If anything, it's her fault for being too fat, stretching the dress until it tore." Still crouching on the floor, I watched the two of them behave intimately. My gaze turned cold. The dress was ruined, and so was my dream. It was time to wake up.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

Five years after the death of his husband, Sky Haren still lived in his illusion and memory, grieving and in pain until he decides to seek help from a psychologist – Kole Terven, the exact replica of his deceased husband. When the person you ask for help, wears the face of the person you want to forget, will Sky reach the healing that he wanted? Or be drowned even more with no way to escape?