When He Calls You Queen Novels & Stories

It was the thirtieth anniversary of my alma mater, and I had been invited back to give a speech. But as I stepped on stage, my husband's illegitimate son rushed toward me, brandishing a knife. His accusations rang through the hall: I was a homewrecker, the woman who had driven his mother to her death. He went even further, kidnapping my daughter and threatening her safety unless I publicly read a letter of confession. I was beaten to within an inch of my life, my body battered and bruised. I demanded my husband come forward and confront the truth. Instead, he turned on me. "I was forced to be with you in the first place!" my husband spat, venom dripping from every word. "You're the real mistress!"

Scarlett was supposed to walk down the aisle in white silk, glowing with love and a secret growing inside her. Instead, she walked out of a hospital with shaking hands, a shattered heartbeat, and a womb that would never feel the flutter she had been so excited to announce. Her fairytale didn’t just crack. It detonated. On the same day she should have become a wife, she became a woman drowning in betrayal—betrayal delivered by the very man who had once fixed her broken-down car and promised her a forever. While the world demanded answers from Daniel Cross, the perfect fiancé on camera, Scarlett hid in a borrowed guest room, wearing a stranger’s dress and a grief no one could soothe. But heartbreak has a way of sharpening bones.

"Are you married?" Douglass and Mitch, together for 4 years, living together for 1 year. Still passionately in love. On a day that seemed no different from yesterday, one they expected to be just the same. Mitch hears news that Douglass is getting married to someone else. A lover's marriage that everyone knew about except him. Though he tries to end things with Douglass out of sadness and betrayal. Douglass has no intention of letting Mitch go easily. But then, something unexpected happens. After desperately clinging and insisting they would never break up. Douglass completely erases Mitch from his memory overnight due to an accident. "If you're going to marry someone else, let's break up." "We haven't broken up yet. Because I never allowed it." Douglass, who once said this. Now says, "I was dating something like you?" "Just be angry with me instead. Don't talk like that." "You need to understand your position first. Why would I be angry at a mere omega like you?" He was facing Mitch with a cold expression never seen before.

Adelaide 'Leda' Knox is exceptional. She is destined to save the vampire race from a deadly disease that has been ravaging their population for 150 years. It's a shame Leda has no idea that vampires exist. Rasmus Lyksborg is the last survivor of the House of Oldenburg. His family sat on the throne for centuries. He should be king But he's not. Can Rasmus persuade Leda to answer the call of destiny, or will both succumb to political machinations, prophecy and plague?

Hayden Jenkins, the driver whom I've recruited, often brings his girlfriend, Casey Sloan, along whenever he drives me to the company. Seeing as Casey's destination is just along the way, I don't bother commenting about it. But one time, when I open the car door, I see a note being pasted to the back seat. It says, "Car moochers aren't allowed in this car." I rip the note off the seat and ask Hayden, "What's the meaning of this?" Casey glares at me from the front passenger seat. She snaps at me, "Don't you know how to read? Every day, you keep mooching off my boyfriend's car! Seriously, are you this shameless? If you can't afford a ride, then don't ever leave your house! I hate car moochers like you the most!" I'm confused, to say the least. That's when Hayden jogs toward me and mumbles to me, "Ms. Gray, Casey doesn't know that I work as your driver. She's rather possessive, and she only sticks this note on the back seat out of her love toward me. "By the way, Casey really doesn't like sharing the car with you. I'll drop her off first. After that, I'll come back for you." After that, Hayden drives my car away. I remain rooted to the same spot, though I'm quick to call the police. "Hello. A man and a woman have stolen my car. Please dispatch an officer as soon as possible."

After surviving the brutal apocalypse for ten years, hardened survivor Hayley Reid was betrayed by her base and unexpectedly woke up two weeks before the apocalypse began. Back in time, her useless father and stepmother were still pressuring her to give up her house for her brother and his newlywed wife. This time, Hayley didn’t hesitate to sell them the house for dirt cheap. While they celebrate this great deal, Hayley went crazy stockpiling supplies. With the help of the super base system’s overpowered perks, she built an unbeatable shelter. While everyone else was stuck in zombie chaos, Hayley relaxed in her fortress like she was on vacation. While everyone else struggled to find food, her dog enjoyed a full buffet every day. While everyone else risked their lives squeezing into crowded survivor camps, Hayley’s base stood as the strongest steel fortress in the whole world!

“ I know it's him.” Celeste said to Godric with a trembling breath. The billionaire tapped the edge of the desk rhythmically, his mind going over the many ways to counter his latest rival. *** What if she had unknowingly married a serial killer? What if he's returning to finish up what he started? From a broken marriage to a bloody haunt, with a death sentence hanging over her head, and terminally ill, Celeste returns from captivity, but her home is gone and nothing is left. She rents a car, driving to nowhere, and collides with Mr. Godric Banks. The billionaire has a twisted opinion of women, but for the first time, he came across a woman who asked for death with a tired smile and something broke inside him. She is devastated by life, and he is devastated by her pain. When her ex returns, she knows she wasn't supposed to survive, and the hunt has just begun. Celeste could fight the devil on her own, or take the hand of Godric Banks, another killer with a dangerous secret.

After I found out my Alpha mate, Bruce, couldn't let go of his ex-mate, Fiona, and her pup, I started teaching our son to call him "Alpha Bruce." When our son had a fever, Fiona called my mate away in the middle of the night. I touched my son’s burning forehead and had him say, "Goodbye, Alpha." When he bailed on the birthday party he’d promised our son because Fiona called, crying that her own son didn't have a father, I didn't even look up. I just had our son explain to the guests, "The Alpha has something important to do." Our son always hesitated for a long time. Until Bruce finally realized how much he’d failed us. He suggested we take a family portrait. But at the studio, Fiona called again, sobbing. “Bruce, can you please come and pretend to be Tony’s dad? The kids at daycare are making fun of him for not having one…” A flicker of guilt crossed Bruce’s face. He was about to kneel and explain it to our son. But this time, our son didn't need my cue. He just waved. “It’s okay, Alpha Bruce. Go be with your other pup. Mom and I are enough for the family photo.”

The day my father dies, my boyfriend, Heath Summers, is accompanying his true love for her prenatal checkup. I lose hope in him and ask for a breakup, but he thinks I'm just being jealous. He says, "Naomi's already miscarried thrice—it hasn't been easy for her to conceive this child. Stop being unreasonable." I've been with him for seven years, but it turns out I can't compare to his childhood sweetheart.

The annual Vittorio family gala was in full swing when my brother, Don Marco Vittorio, decided to host a card game. The stakes were simple: the winner could make one demand of him. Everyone knew I had been brought back to the Vittorio estate three years ago but still hadn't been formally acknowledged as family. They stepped aside, murmuring that this was Marco's way of giving me a chance—a test I might finally pass. Only Gianna, the family's adopted princess, made sure I had none. She counted off her boasts on her fingers. "Marco gives me a black card with a fifty-thousand-euro monthly limit." "He bid on a lighthouse in the Bay of Naples for me." "I give the family toast at New Year's Mass." "My name is on the trust." Four statements. I had one card left. She smiled and delivered the killing blow: "This whole game? Marco threw it just to cheer me up." My heart sank. I looked at my brother. He smiled indulgently—that same smile he'd worn for three years, always taking her side, always asking me to wait. I folded. I laid down my last card. And suddenly, I didn't want to go home that badly anymore. I didn't need the Vittorio name. I was done.