Lost Love, Forgotten Son

The Ninety-Ninth Goodbye

The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave. At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety. As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers. "Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in. That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission. Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away.

My Ex-wife Wants Me Back

My wife didn't want to have children, so we agreed to have sterilization surgery together. Little did I know, she regretted it after I had the surgery. She said, "I feel like two people should have a child together. Now that you've had the surgery, I'll have to find someone else like Nick, and when the child is born, we can raise it together." It turns out she had already made up her mind to have a child with someone else. So I smiled and said, "Okay." But as she wished, I asked for a divorce. Now she regrets it.

Escaping The Cage: I Married His Worst Enemy

My husband, the Capo of New York, gripped my hand as we walked into the soundproofed room. He wasn't there to save me. He was there to watch the family doctor carve out my mind. A stranger named Sofia claimed I had sold her to a brothel twelve years ago. It was a lie. But Dante looked at me with cold marble eyes, believing the woman sobbing in his arms over the wife he had vowed to protect. "Sit, Elena," he ordered. He strapped me into the chair. He watched as they injected liquid fire into my veins to force a confession. He dragged me to the kennels, forcing me to feed the dogs I was terrified of, and watched as they tore into my flesh. He even locked me in a freezer to "cool off" my jealousy. The final straw wasn't the pain. It was hearing him plan a Vow Renewal with Sofia, intending to parade me as her Maid of Honor to teach me humility. I realized then that Elena Moretti had to die. So, I set the hospital room on fire. I left my wedding ring in the ashes and vanished into the night. Six months later, Dante found me in Paris. He fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness. I looked at him with dead eyes and handed him a knife. "Kill yourself," I said. "That is the only way I will believe you are sorry."

Unforgivable Truths

The Country Music Awards after-party was buzzing, but the real show started when my husband, Ethan, walked in with Sabrina, the TikTok singer he' d been championing. His cruel smirk, the scandal washing over the room-it was the public humiliation he'd always wanted, and he was looking right at me. Then, my mother-in-law, Eleanor, a woman who despised me for surviving the crash that killed her daughter, Chloe, dropped a bomb. She announced my supposed "barrenness" to the entire Nashville elite, mocking me as "useless to this family," while Sabrina, Ethan's mistress, cooed about giving him the family I never could. My calm façade shattered when I coughed, a violent, hacking spasm, and the wet warmth in my palm revealed a terrifying truth: blood. Later, Ethan found me, wiping the blood from my hand with disgust. He accused me of faking illness, then leaned in, whispering, "You want to know the only way I'll ever forgive you for Chloe? You have to die." He thought I was finally broken, but my heart had already turned to dust. How could he believe such a monstrous lie? Why did everyone embrace the narrative that I, the sole survivor of a tragic accident, was a murderer, instead of the truth? My only escape was silence, the hidden battle against a disease stealing me away, and the desperate hope his hatred would finally set him free. I walked out into the Tennessee rain, leaving him to his party, knowing my final act would be to give him everything he wanted – my absence – in a way he' d never forget.

The Heiress Who Rose

I was a Davenport heiress, engaged to Blake Vanderbilt III. My old-money life seemed perfectly scripted, culminating tonight at the Spinsters' Ball. My cousin, Savannah, the family charity case, was always my dearest confidante, urging me to "live a little" and ignore whispers about my weight. But at the ball, Blake shattered it all. Under blinding flashes, he publicly declared his love for Savannah: "The engagement is off. I cannot marry an embarrassment." He looked directly at me. The whispers turned to roars. The Boston tabloids screamed, "Hefty Heiress Dumped at Debut," pairing my tear-streaked face with Savannah's triumphant smile. Back home, Savannah, dripping crocodile tears, twisted the knife, confessing her years-long campaign. "You sat around...eating cake," she sneered, exposing her malice. How could the girl I'd shared my home and everything with orchestrate such public humiliation? Why was I so blind to her calculated sabotage, her sweet encouragement a poison meant to destroy me? There was no anger, no heartbreak… just an unsettling calm and a sudden, clear vision. They expected tears, begging, a scene. But when she claimed my grandmother's heirloom pearls, something snapped. I snatched them back. I left the mockery behind, walking away from the life they thought they'd destroyed. They had no idea who they were truly dealing with.

Justice for the Vance Heiress

I woke up on my wedding day, the morning sun streaming into my opulent Charleston bedroom. But the taste of asphalt and blood was still in my mouth, memories of screeching tires and a crushing impact vivid in my mind. My stepfather' s perfect plan: a staged hit-and-run, his neat solution to inherit my mother' s fortune. Because I had died. Now I was back, alive, staring at the date-my wedding day, the day he had me killed. A wave of phantom pain, of broken bones and crushed hope, washed over me. Then I saw her: my stepsister, Brielle, in my custom wedding dress, admiring herself in the mirror. The sight was a physical blow, a reminder of the humiliation and betrayal I endured in my first life as they drugged me and locked me away. He walked in, Senator Richard Thorne, playing the concerned father, but his eyes were cold and full of the disappointment I' d known my whole life. He gaslighted me, painting me as hysterical, just as he did before, controlling everything. "Your mother is gone," he hissed, "And I control you. Don\'t you ever forget that." I was trapped, again, the crushing weight of powerlessness threatening to suffocate me. Rage, so profound it burned, replaced the despair. Why did I have to relive this nightmare, this perfect setup for my destruction? But something was different this time. The naive girl died on that dark road; I was what was left. If he wanted to control the Vance family, there would be no Vance family left to control, not the way he expected. I found my mother' s hidden failsafe: an encrypted flash drive, her "in case of Richard" file. It held years of meticulous corruption, a dossier so damning it would send him to federal prison for life. With a grim smile and a single click of the send button, I launched the nuclear option, sending it to the FBI, SEC, and every major news outlet. The game had changed, and they didn' t even know they were playing.

The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers

After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

The Rise Of The Ugly Luna

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

The Forgotten Mother's Vow: Taking Back What's Hers

Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.

Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable

Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."