Three And A Half Years Novels & Stories

It only takes one unfortunate evening for Amara: she is jobless, she catches her fiancé with her stepsister, and her own father places the blame on her. One too many drinks led to Adrian Cole, a powerful CEO and the greatest rival of her ex-fiancé. Adrian gets to offer to treat her mother when she becomes critically ill, one of those very few moments in Amara's life when she doesn't have enough money for her treatment. He makes her one proposition: Amara must marry him for three years. Jealousy, lies, and an ex trying to return threaten to rip apart their contract marriage. Amara attempts to walk away, but Adrian refuses to let her go. Until the truth comes out. Now she wants he

Three years after I had made my girlfriend, Sophia Lambert, sleep with her superior, she finally went from being his lover to becoming his wife. Meanwhile, I barely made it out alive after years of being undercover in a drug trafficking ring. My body was broken beyond repair, and I had returned home only to wait for death. Sophia arrived with one of her arms wrapped around her husband’s during a charity visit for the poor. When she saw me standing in line for relief aid, she let out a mocking laugh. “Benjamin, how did you end up like this?” I hunched my shoulders. I hid the First-Class Merit Medal for Narcotics Enforcement I had received not long ago. After a long silence, I asked, “A

They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper.... My name is Ariana Carter. I am deeply in love with my husband Misha, and we have the perfect marriage. Scratch that, HAD the perfect marriage, or so I thought until he changed. His lies and betrayal broke me. Until I woke up. Now it's time for me to retake everything I lost--my life, my career, my family, and my dignity. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Three years after my death, my mother finally remembered my existence. As my older brother was having kidney failure, she wanted me to give him my kidney. To force me to make an appearance, she pushed my severely depressed wife into committing suicide and left my daughter roaming the streets to be killed in a hit-and-run. However, she still did not give up. She started making up things about me on the internet. In the end, my friend told her, “Mrs. Harding, Aiden died in the earthquake three years ago. A steel girder pierced him right through the heart after he saved you, and he died on the spot due to blood loss.”

On New Year's Eve, I returned home. At the welcome party, my boyfriend, Grayson Caldwell, suddenly appeared, holding a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring, dropping to one knee. "Although this proposal comes a full three years late, our love will never be late," he said. "Alexa, marry me!" Friends cheered from the sidelines, all expecting me to nod through tears and say yes. But they had forgotten that three years ago, on New Year's Eve, he had promised to propose. That night, I dressed to the nines and waited until dawn—but he never showed up. Instead, there was only a cold phone call. "Tanya is sick. I'm busy taking care of her. You'll have to wait a little longer for the proposa

In our world, fathers sell their half-breed daughters to purebred wolves. If they don’t like you, they will resell you to someone else. And the one who turns out to be the chosen one is lucky, and she will be combined with the highest marriage. And others are destined to belong to the multitude... I was not sold; I gave myself up. Now the big bad red wolf is my master, and I am in his hands. But why does his rival look at me like I’m the juiciest piece of steak? Does he want to buy me out?

On the day the gynecologist confirmed that I was pregnant, my husband, Austin Jones, pushed me into the operating room to donate blood to save his first love. Feeling frail after the blood transfusion, I almost fainted in front of Austin. However, he pushed me away and went to take care of his first love. Furthermore, he hung up on all my phone calls and stayed with his first love all night on the day I miscarried. Time after time, I was met with disappointment. When I finally decided that I had enough of his mistreatment and no longer wanted to love him, he panicked and begged me to give him another chance.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger br

My parents adopted an AI daughter. The day she came home, I suddenly became the most hated person in the family. Dad said I was a thorn in his side. Mom thought I couldn't hold a candle to Sophia, the AI. My brother Jack yelled at me, "All you do is make trouble!" I was so furious that I shoved Sophia to the floor. Mom's face went dark. She struck me hard across the face. "Sophia is your sister! If you were even half as good as her, I wouldn't be this angry!" "You're going to the Academy of Exemplary Obedience to learn how to be a proper, obedient daughter." I was sent away to "swap places" with an AI daughter. Three years later, my parents and brother came to pick me up. They called my name

"Sign the contract, or lose everything." I stared at the papers that would seal my fate—a three-year marriage to Julian Blackwood, the ruthless billionaire they call the Ice King. My family didn't ask. They demanded. My father's company was drowning, my stepsister's engagement had exploded, and I was the replacement bride they could sacrifice. Just another transaction. Julian made it clear on our wedding day: "Don't expect affection. Don't expect companionship. Certainly don't expect love." He refused to kiss me at the altar. He gave me a bedroom down the hall and told me to stay out of his way. I was Mrs. Blackwood in name only—a contract, a convenience, a means to an end. I