Ordination Certificate Template Novels & Stories

After drunkenly ending up in bed with my best friend's older sister, Diana Conway, I become her secret boyfriend. By the eighth year of our underground relationship, my family gives me an ultimatum and arranges a marriage for me. I inform, "Diana, my family has given me a final deadline. I have to get married this year." Her movements pause for a bit. Then, she gently kisses my forehead. Just like always, she says, "Wait a little longer." But then, I come across a social media post from an intern named Steven Riley. The photo shows him and Diana holding their marriage certificate. The caption reads, "Mission accomplished—the female CEO is mine." I spend eight years chasing a woman who never settles down with me, yet he wins her over in just three months. Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I leave the post a like. Then, I comment, "Congratulations. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness and lots of children." After that, I agree to the wedding date my family arranges. Suddenly, my phone rings. For the first time, panic creeps into Diana's voice. "Don't get the wrong idea, Walter. I only got the marriage certificate with Steven because I lost a game with some friends—" I cut her off, "Diana, I'm getting married."

On our 40th wedding anniversary, I discovered that my beloved husband, Derrick, had been cheating on me. Even our marriage certificate had been forged. The woman he cheated with was his foster sister, Jasmine. I confronted Derrick with the evidence, but he only looked irritated. "I've already treated you well enough in this lifetime. Jasmine is my true love. I will marry her and have children with her." Even my son tried to convince me. "Just be grateful. My real parents never went public with their relationship all these years for your sake. You are old now. What else can you do?" That was when I learned the cruel truth. The Mafia heir I had raised with my own hands was not even my biological child. Back then, Jasmine and I gave birth on the same day. To make sure Jasmine's baby would inherit the Mafia family my father left to me, Derrick secretly switched our children. Because of their negligence, my biological child later died from a simple cold. The cruelest irony was that I had raised Jasmine's son as my own and helped him reach the top of the Mafia hierarchy. When the truth finally hit me, I coughed up blood and fainted. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back in time to the very day I gave birth.

"Lilith, are you sure there's nothing wrong with this soup?" "What, you’re doubting your own mother’s love now?" she sneered. Grinding my teeth, I forced it down—only to feel a searing pain twist through my gut like knives a moment later. Alpha Kane burst into the room and gathered my lifeless body into his arms. His eyes burned crimson as he roared to the Eternity Pack: "I’ll burn this world to the ground for what you did to her." But fate wasn’t done with me yet. It gave me another chance. Back on the day of the poisoning, my cold smile slicing through the stunned silence. "This time," I said, "you’ll be the ones begging on your knees." And as it turns out… Revenge is sweet, but love? Even sweeter. "I can heal your leg," I said, lifting Kane’s blanket. Only for him to grab my wrist with a deadly grip. "Getting handsy now?" he smirked. "I’m checking your injury," I shot back, eyes narrowing. "Unless… there’s something else that needs ‘treating’ too?" "Sign it," I slammed the marriage certificate in front of him. "In exchange, I’ll help you walk again." "Do you even know what mate duties include?" His eyes drifted downward, tracing the curve of my waist— and lower.

Five years ago, I lost my memory in a car accident. Eira Jones had claimed she was my beloved. She saved me, cared for me, and we naturally got married. For five years, I managed every aspect of our home for her. As I tended to her every need with unwavering devotion, I was convinced I was the happiest husband in the world. But as I was about to tidy up the study, I overheard Eira and her childhood sweetheart talking. “Eira, these past five years, Vedran Clarus has been utterly devoted to you. He just hasn’t chewed your food for you! I’m getting jealous.” Eira kissed his cheek affectionately. “Silly boy, those chores are his responsibility. I’d never let you do them.” Furious, I burst through the door and accused Reed Harris of being a shameless homewrecker. But to my shock, he showed his marriage certificate to Eira. He declared that I was the third wheel in their relationship. As we shoved each other about, my head slammed into the bookshelf, and my memories returned. Apparently, I was the sole heir to the city’s wealthiest, the Grant family. I watched as Eira ranted accusations at me, and the fair-faced, pretty boy in her arms feigned hurt. I turned and dialed my childhood sweetheart’s number. “Elena Gibson, your fiance is being bullied!”

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 had been married to Jeremy Yeager for three years, and he had a strict rule. "We can't lend our money to outsiders. We help out during emergencies, but we don't support them endlessly. This is the bottom line." Thus, I begged him on my knees when my father needed 60,000 dollars for his gastric cancer surgery. He remained calm. "If we break this rule today, your entire family will be draining our bank account tomorrow. I have to be responsible for this family." I sold my dowry to raise the surgery fee and accepted that some boundaries needed to be kept in marriage. When Jeremy's childhood sweetheart, Celia Marten, returned to the country to start a business and her start-up funds were insufficient, he transferred 470,000 dollars from our joint account. I confronted him, yet he just laughed and replied, "It's different. Celia's doing legitimate business. It's guaranteed to turn a profit. Besides, she's not an outsider." Looking at the numbers on the transfer record, I suddenly understood everything. It was not a matter of principle. The 60,000 dollars for a life-saving treatment was for an outsider; the 470,000 dollars investment was not. What truly mattered was who wanted the money. I did not argue or make a scene. I took our marriage certificate out of the drawer and slammed it on the table. "She's not an outsider, huh? Just make her your wife, then."

My wife, Piper Carlson, yanked out my ventilator tube with her own hands. All because she believed the man who donated a kidney to save her was the guy she'd never gotten over. And me? The husband she'd hated for ten years? Just a liar who stole his credit. "Don't be scared, Elliot. The thief who stole your life finally got what he deserved." The second she pulled the tube, my body locked up. I couldn't breathe. Piper barely looked at me. She just held her "savior" close, relieved I was finally gone. Then, while I was dying, she hit me with one last secret. "Marco, wanna know why you could never get me pregnant again? I slipped something into every bottle of vitamins I gave you. You don't deserve my child." I was so furious I almost lost it. But Piper was already posting her marriage certificate with Elliot Lacy. [After everything we've been through, I finally got my happy ending with the man who saved me.] With the last bit of strength I had, I left one final comment. [Piper, how's my kidney treating you?] Then I opened my eyes. I was back ten years earlier, on the rainy night Elliot stole credit for saving her with my kidney.

"Lilith, are you sure there's nothing wrong with this soup?" "What, you’re doubting your own mother’s love now?" she sneered. Grinding my teeth, I forced it down—only to feel a searing pain twist through my gut like knives a moment later. Alpha Kane burst into the room and gathered my lifeless body into his arms. His eyes burned crimson as he roared to the Eternity Pack: "I’ll burn this world to the ground for what you did to her." But fate wasn’t done with me yet. It gave me another chance. Back on the day of the poisoning, my cold smile slicing through the stunned silence. "This time," I said, "you’ll be the ones begging on your knees." And as it turns out… Revenge is sweet, but love? Even sweeter. "I can heal your leg," I said, lifting Kane’s blanket. Only for him to grab my wrist with a deadly grip. "Getting handsy now?" he smirked. "I’m checking your injury," I shot back, eyes narrowing. "Unless… there’s something else that needs ‘treating’ too?" "Sign it," I slammed the marriage certificate in front of him. "In exchange, I’ll help you walk again." "Do you even know what mate duties include?" His eyes drifted downward, tracing the curve of my waist— and lower.

After five years of marriage, Melody finally realized—she had never truly married anyone. The marriage certificate was forged. Her husband, Adam, was legally wed to her best friend, Lily. And Melody? She had been the most innocent pawn in a meticulously crafted deception. The betrayals didn’t stop there. Her supposed infertility was a lie, and the child she had poured her love into raising was, in fact, Adam and Lily’s biological son. Five years of devotion—through their eyes, she had served only three purposes: a free housekeeper, a cheap business partner, and a disposable pawn. She had believed in love. That, above all, was her greatest folly. Yet Melody didn’t break. She didn’t cry, and she didn’t beg. Instead, she turned her gaze to the man who struck fear into the entire business world—Kiel Summers. Rumor had it he was ruthless, even deadly, and that any woman who became his companion ended up either dead or insane. Still, she walked into his office—and struck a deal. She offered him dignity; he offered her protection. Each got what they needed, with no promises of love. A cold, enigmatic man in a world full of danger. A clear-eyed, independent woman, scarred by betrayal yet still capable of kindness. Two broken souls, sharing the same fortress, bound by a single contract.

When news of my arranged fiancee's death arrived, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I quickly reclaimed her shares and had the death certificate issued. I did it because I've been reborn. In my past life, Dad was worried that women would eye my fortune as the heir to the wealthiest family. So, he arranged for me to marry one of three women he personally picked. I chose the most outstanding one, Monica Harris, and married her. However, just three days after our wedding, she died suddenly. Heartbroken, I was persuaded by the remaining two women to give up on marriage and remain single for life. At 80 years old, when I returned to our special place in Sunmere Valley to reminisce, I saw Monica. She should have been dead for 60 years! She stood beside Liam Rogers, my driver who'd gone missing decades ago, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, living a picture-perfect life. I realized I'd been deceived my entire life. The shock sent my blood pressure soaring, and I died of a stroke on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day I died. This time, I'm going to find out exactly how someone who's supposedly dead keeps on living.