Why He Purple Novels & Stories

"You're my weakness!" Jerald said, still aiming his gun at Jennifer. "If all I am to you is a pawn that your enemies will use against you then, do as you wish." She said as she stepped towards him. He stepped back. "Don't come closer or I'll shoot!" He warned her, his hands jolting. "Jerald Carter, New York Cosa Nostra can't even shoot me." She mocked him. "Jennifer!" He warned her again. "You can't kill me, Jerald," She pressed her chest on the gun. "You and I borh know I am The Thing You Kill For," *** Jennifer's Father Promised that she will marry Jerald Carter. Jennifer's been dreading over the arranged marriage because she has a boyfriend-but now that her family's lives depends on it, there's no denying it anymore. There's something mystifying about Jerald Carter but nonetheless, Jennifer couldn't help but fall for him. No one is perfect of course, Jerald Carter Has a big secret he is keeping, of The Dark and Deadly Variety. What will happen when Jennifer finds out that she married a man who could just easily kill her as a snap?

She was his wife in every way that mattered. Except the one way that was real. Seven years. One document. Everything gone. June Cross walked away from her father's empire for a man who called her temporary from the start. Now she has nothing — except a secret, a suitcase, and one night she can't stop thinking about. She doesn't remember every detail. The bar. The bourbon. The stranger with quiet eyes and steady hands who looked at her like she was the only real thing in a room full of noise. She remembers enough. What she doesn't know — what she can't know yet — is that the stranger remembers everything. And he already knows her name. Dante Reyes doesn't do feelings. He does leverage, acquisitions, and victory — in that order. What he's offering isn't romance. It isn't rescue. It's a contract. She thinks it's temporary. He knows better. But what's coming for them both is something neither of them planned for — and not everyone is going to survive it intact. She thought the hardest thing was finding out her marriage was a lie. She had no idea what was still coming for her.

The blindfold came off. I blinked. A chandelier. A fireplace. A mansion i had never seen. And a man i had known my whole life — standing with his back to me, a half-empty bottle on the table beside him. Caleb. "Please." My voice cracked. "I don't know what's happening. I think there's been a mistake—" He turned slowly. The grief on his face curdled into something else entirely. "You put her in that chair," he said. Low. Shaking. "You did that." "I didn't—" He crossed the room in four strides. His hand closed in my hair and drove me to my knees before i could breathe. "You're not going home," Caleb Wren said quietly. "Your sister's wedding is in four days. You look exactly like her." His eyes moved over me, cold and final. "You're going to take her place. Consider it what you owe."

When my mother first told me about the arranged marriage, Noah Parker lowered his head and kissed me, pulling me closer as we became tangled together. After a haze of passion, he carried me into the bathroom. Warm water streamed over my skin, but his words sent a chill straight through me, as if I'd fallen into an icy pit. "Go home. And don't come looking for me here again." I thought he'd seen the text and was jealous, so I quickly clung to him and swore, "I won't marry anyone else—" His smile stayed, but the heat in his eyes cooled into something distant. "But I'm getting married." He brushed back my messy hair, ignoring how my body trembled under his touch. "My fiancée is gentle and kind—nothing like you. She’d never throw herself at her foster brother like that. We've already set a date. If you keep clinging to me like this, she'll be upset with me."

Some nights are meant to break you. Others change your life forever. Running from hunger, cruelty, and a past that refused to let her breathe, Ivy thought her life would end on a rain-soaked night. Trapped, terrified, and out of strength, she had nowhere left to go... until he found her. Powerful, emotionally guarded and dangerously composed, he pulled her from the storm and into a world she never belonged to. One night of rescue turns into obsession, protection, and a connection that moves too fast to escape. Who is the man who saved her? And what happens when the night that rescued her becomes the beginning of everything she was never prepared for? One night. One stranger. No turning back.

Lyra Ashbourne, a powerless omega dismissed by fate, is given away by Crown Prince Ronan after he rejects their sacred bond and chooses her sister instead. The most feared Alpha, Kael Blackthorne, was supposed to be her ruin—cold, merciless, soaked in blood, and a war hero rumored to have killed his own mate. But the monster everyone warned her about becomes the only man who has ever made her feel worth protecting. Now Ronan wants her back. A buried prophecy is surfacing. A kingdom is pushing toward war. Lyra must choose between the prince who sacrificed her and the beast who would burn everything before he lost her. Then the prophecy reveals that her choice will reshape the kingdom itself... What if choosing him means becoming the very weapon that destroys her?

After Pierce Emery and I got back together, I started "renting him out." Every time his old flame, Daphne Roach, called him away, I stopped crying and causing scenes like before. I charged by the hour instead. Ten grand an hour during the day. Twenty at night. Triple on holidays. Three months later, my account was up almost two million dollars. Pierce had promised to help me pick a dress for a banquet, but Daphne called him crying, saying she'd sliced her hand while cooking. I didn't even look up. I just held out my phone with the payment screen open. One night, I came down with a brutal fever. While Pierce was driving me to the hospital, his phone rang again. Daphne. He stared at the screen for a long second before answering. Her voice came through shaky and tearful. "Pierce, the thunder's so loud. I can't sleep. Can you come stay with me?" I quietly pulled out an umbrella and told him to let me out at the next intersection. He looked at me like he wanted to explain something, but I just smiled. "Don't forget to transfer the money." The same thing happened again on the day our daughter went in for her routine checkup. Except this time, she was the one asking him for money.

After my rebirth, I no longer stop my husband, Don Dante Moretti, from taking care of his dead older brother's widow and daughter, Sofia Bianchi and Lucia Moretti. I spent my entire life hoping that he would spare me a glance, after all. Only when I was hugging my son, Leone Moretti's icy corpse while dying in the snow, did I realize just how wrong I'd been. Once I'm reborn, I visit the law firm decisively and turn in my appeal for divorce. "I request to file a divorce with Dante Moretti. I'd like to terminate Leone's and my original identities." A few days later, Leone and I will disappear from Dante's life. Since he wants to stay with Sofia and Lucia, I'll grant his wish.

When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been. I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle. For Pauline Schmidt. His ex. I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much." I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her. While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town. And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water. I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle. I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.

My mom's dying wish was simple. She wanted to meet the guy I'd been with for eight years. That day, I called Tyler Carlton sixty-seven times. Not once did he pick up. Mom was already gone by the time his text came in. [The project's locked down right now. I can't leave. When things calm down, I'll come see your mom.] I held Mom's cold hand, my fingers shaking over the screen. [Okay.] Then, that night, I found the video. Tyler stood in a white suit at some fancy riverfront restaurant. Beside him was another woman, smiling softly as he held a birthday cake. The caption said: [Four years after graduation, I'm finally back by your side. Happy birthday, Vivian.] The comments were packed with congrats. I knew a lot of the names. Then someone asked: [So you two finally got your happy ending?] I stared at the screen, my chest going tight. Then I replied: [They got their happy ending. I was just the extra who didn't know.]