Indestructible Love

No Substitute For Love

Amelia was a substitute bride. Her husband Oscar was originally in love with some other woman named Cassie, but Cassie put up a front on the day of their wedding and ran away. Four years later, she returned to the city and asked Amelia to step aside so that she could reunite with her lover. Was it going to be that easy? While Amelia and Oscar had come to a truce that love would never exist in their contract marriage, Amelia was very busy falling in love with Oscar. Love You Enough To Leave You Novel narrates the story of Amelia and Oscar, and how love and fate would have them sail in the tides of a love, hate relationship. Amelia was asked to make way for the queen of Oscar Clinton's heart. Her name was Cassie, and she was audacious in her return. Directly asking Amelia to step aside so that she could continue to take care of the love of her life, Cassie was not backing down as she waited tenaciously for Amelia to clear off from her 'destined' path.

Strangers to Spouses

Wiltspoon's hot weather in October was a killer. Still, the mornings and evenings were eased by the late autumn breeze. Serenity Hunt got up first thing in the morning to make breakfast for her sister's family of three before grabbing her birth certificate and slipping away ... Serenity had believed that married life would be routine, respectful, and mundane ever since she wed a stranger she had met on a blind date. Her new husband's tendency to cling to her like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe never occurred to her. She was utterly shocked to discover that whenever she was in trouble, he could make her problems go away. She questioned, but her husband always said it was just luck. Up until the day she saw an interview with a local billionaire who was renowned for making a big deal out of his wife. She then noticed the billionaire's startling resemblance to her husband. He turned out to be praising his wife, who was actually her!

Passions Endure Fiercely

It was June, at the crack of dawn, a beautiful woman woke up with pains wracking her body and a splitting headache in a presidential suite of a five-star hotel, somewhere in the capital city, Nordeny. She felt utterly exhausted. Her head was killing her. It was as if she had woken up in a stranger's body. The young woman was Anya MacMillan. She forced her eyes open and pushed herself up. The sight before her baffled her. A huge bed. Messy sheets with streaks of dried dubious fluids stained. Clothes strewn across the bed and the floor. Clothes that belonged to her and a man. Anya jerked in shock. She whipped her head around and stared at the other side of the bed. On the huge and messy bed slept the man whom she had been secretly in love with forever. Evan Welton, the most sought-after bachelor in the capital city. The Adonis of Nordeny. Exhaustion lined his handsome face. His eyes were tightly shut. He showed no signs of waking up. He was completely naked, His finely sculpted form laid completely bare to Anya's eyes. The pounding in Anya's head worsened. Her breathing quickened. Did she...had she...with Evan...last night? Anya shoved aside the splitting pain in her head and forced herself to recall what had happened last night. Last night...she remembered that she had paid a visit to her stepmother. What had happened after that? Her memories were a blur. Her head felt heavy and her neck was killing her. Amid the fog clouding her head, snippets of memories flashed. She remembered heated touches, naked flesh and then some... There was no doubt about it. They had sex. It must be her stepmother. Her stepmother must have drugged them! Anya couldn't think of anyone else who would do something so vicious to her! Anya felt an alarm sound off in her head. 'She had to get out of here,' she thought. She tried to clamber out of bed immediately. She knew exactly who Evan Welton was. The man set to inherit the vast fortunes of the wealthiest family in Nordeny and the bachelor whom every young woman from any respectable family sought to marry. A man who loathed the advances of women he didn't know. Angering him would mean death. Anya imagined the possibility of Evan waking up right now. What would he think when he saw the mess? There was no way she could talk her way out of this one. She had been secretly in love with the man since she had been a girl. She didn't want the man to detest her. Anya scrambled to get out of bed. Suddenly, something shot towards her from the other side of the bed. He wrapped himself around her slender waist and yanking her back forcefully. The next moment, she was trapped under someone. She heard a husky male voice, rough with anger and through a clenched jaw. "Anya MacMillan...how dare you drug me..." Anya's mind cleared up. The fog that had clouded her head dispelled immediately. She shook her head frantically. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me..." "You didn't? How did you end up in my bed then?" Evan detested such shameless and stealthy means. His fingers tightened around Anya's pale arms. His strong grip nearly crushed her fragile bones. Pain spiked down Anya's arms. Her eyes reddened as she repeated herself. Evan wasn't interested in listening to her denials. In his view, she was just another despicable, loose woman who drugged him so that she could sleep with him. He released his grip on her and shoved her aside roughly. Then, he got out of bed and began to dress himself. "I don't want to see you again. Ever. Appear in my sight again and you're dead." The young man pulled on the rest of his clothes angrily. It was then that Sydney, Anya's stepsister, burst into the room suddenly. The sight of the mess in the room sent her into an instant rage. She had thought that the drug would make them pa** out and put up a deception of them having had sex. They weren't supposed to actually sleep with each other!

Rich Guy's Super Lavish System

David Lidell vomited blood and passed out when he was enraged by his rival in love. When he woke up, he realized he had obtained a super lavish system, and it was asking him to spend a quadrillion dollars. After that, David embarked on the journey toward the pinnacle of his life.

I Hid His Heir from My Alpha

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.

She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen

Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"

Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.