english atonement novel

[BOYS LOVE] If there was a scale for magnanimity and naivety, Prince Calibri would be positioned first every time. As the crowned prince of his mysterious and secretive sect, he believed it was his duty to become the next Grandmaster of all the Cultivation clans to protect his people. Needless to say, every other young Cultivator of the Living Realm were after the same position of power even if it wasn't for the same reason, including Zhang Haochen; a quiet, handsome, unproblematic and extremely skilled young man with an unfortunate desire for his father's validation. Upon their arrival at the Cultivation school, it became apparent that not only did Calibri far outweigh them all(both men and women) in the department of looks, but also in his level of Cultivation! But how? How did he use all those lost Cultivation techniques? Why did he disappear all the time? Why in the world was Zhang Haochen (the man everyone wanted the attention of) so attached and fond of that 'PRINCESS' from day one? In fact, why did Zhang Haochen use his vocal chords in such abundance when it came to him? In a flurry of events, the time comes for the next Grandmaster to be chosen, but before Calibri has the chance to seize the title, he is betrayed by his closest companion, accused of a crime he did not commit and banished to the dark dormain of the Underworld... Years later, Calibri finds himself unwillingly forced to return to the Living Realm by the very person who betrayed him in the first place! He can't escape, so there's no choice to remain with that handsome traitor who's on a mission of his own: 1) Get Calibri's soul back 2) Make everyone who hurt Calibri suffer 3) Get Calibri to fall in love with him once again. The mission wouldn't have been that hard if Calibri, Heaven, the Living Realm and the Underworld were against it. But alas, these conditions existed, and he had no choice but to overcome them if he wanted to ever see Calibri smile at him again, and not scream bloody murder every time he held him close. Yes, Zhang Haochen had a lot of atoning to do. Can he do it? Will Calibri forgive him? Why did he betray him? Read on to uncover the mysteries, and find out if their love can really conquer the odds!

Aarav ran away. Who could really blame him, though? The list of things Aarav that didn't excel at was long and humiliating, borderline pathetic even. A list that included fighting too. So when he encounters a group of monk-looking assailants in black with books floating next to them, ganging up on a little harmless kid…he wasn't exactly sure how to deal with that situation. More so, when that strange encounter snowballs into him being attacked by a giant tentacled monster; he did the only thing he excelled at—he ran away. Being able to see the dead since his birth was strange enough for him but being chased by a monster was taking things a bit too far. But now thrust into the strange world of dead souls, demons and grim reapers; Aarav has to make a choice. Does he continue to live in the ignorance of the blurred lines of two worlds, or will he muster up the courage to do what is right? To save the people close to him, no matter the lengths he has to go to achieve that goal. Even if it required his own death.

Ewan is an assassin with a convoluted idea of love and a troubled past. As a child, Taryn's heart was stolen by the broody bad boy. Too bad that he was her devious sister's boyfriend. When Ewan disappears and her sister abandons her and her father to marry a rich older man, Taryn is left to survive. One chance meeting will change their lives forever. Will Ewan see what is meant to be and see the past for what it was? Or will he make the same mistake again and lose the love of his life?

Five years ago, Damien held the most lavish bonding ceremony our pack had ever seen for me. All the werewolves remarked how lucky an Omega I was. He told the world I had saved his life. That my rare healing blood was the only thing holding our pack together. "Elara is the only one for me," he declared. "Forever." His "forever" lasted until she came back. He started staying out all night. “Elara, I still love you the most.” “An Alpha like me can’t be expected to have only one woman.” I calmly turned and walked away, sending a mind-link to his greatest rival. "I'll give you every secret my pack has." "In return, you'll help me fake my death."

I died four years ago, but my soul remained, bound to my son. I was forced to watch, powerless, as my son called his NFL star father. "Do you still love my mommy?" Luke asked innocently. Liam's voice turned cold with disgust. "Tell that gold digger I'm done with her games." My heart shattered as my son screamed back: "My mommy has been dead for four years!" The phone went silent. He thought I betrayed him. He divorced me before I could tell him I was pregnant. I died alone, protecting his secrets while he lived a perfect lie with his rumored girlfriend. Now he wants our son back. But some truths are deadlier than graves.

My best friend, Cassandra Thorne, and I were pawns, married into the Grimaldi crime family to solidify their power. We were even arranged to get pregnant at the same time. I married Donovan Grimaldi, the family's Underboss. Cassandra married his younger brother, Julian Grimaldi, a ruthless Capo. The discomfort of my pregnancy was a constant plague. I was on my way to the family's secret clinic for a check-up, with Donovan driving. But on the way, he received an urgent call from his old flame, Seraphina Russo. To deal with what she called a "territorial crisis," he thrust me out of the car into a torrential downpour, abandoning me in the most dangerous part of Chicago's South Side. I grabbed his arm, begging, "Donovan, please! It's not safe here! Just take me to the clinic first, okay?" Donovan impatiently shook me off. "Seraphina's life is on the line! This is about family honor! Evelyn, can't you get your priorities straight? I have to deal with this now! Get to the clinic yourself!" The rain was relentless, but Donovan abandoned me in that lawless neighborhood without a second thought. Left with no other choice, I called Cassandra to come get me. But as she sped toward me, a heavy-duty truck came barreling toward us, completely out of control. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard Cassandra’s frantic, tearful call to Julian, only for him to viciously berate her. "Cut the crap, Cassandra! Do you really have to pull these stunts for attention every time I'm with Seraphina?" A passing family Soldato found us and called for backup, getting us rushed to the family's private clinic. We survived. But tragically, we both lost our babies—the long-awaited heirs to the Grimaldi family. After regaining consciousness in the clinic, we looked at each other and shared a bitter smile. "Want to escape this place together?" "Of course."

I will always remember my father's warning: Never sacrifice the honor of your name for a man, or you will be crushed by him in the end. But I once believed Marcello was the exception. After all, he was willing to take on half of New York for me. For him, I defied my father's wishes and even took a bullet for him in a gunfight. I've walked with a limp ever since. However, two years into our marriage, rumors about him and his mistress, Bianca, were swirling. Because of my injury, I could no longer give him a second heir. I chose to swallow my pride and endure it, until Bianca showed up at my door with a hotel bill that spoke for itself. I became the laughingstock of the entire New York underworld. Marcello knelt before me, his eyes red. "I'm sorry. I drank too much that night. I'll make her disappear from our world. I swear it." I looked down at our one-year-old son in my arms. I nodded and forgave him—just that once. For the next five years, he was on his best behavior. He was considerate, affectionate, and devoted—until that night on the terrace of a charity gala. I was listening through a miniature listening device when I heard my husband, Marcello, on the phone with a woman, his voice laced with that familiar Italian charm. "Of course not. I miss you so much, tesoro. How could that broken woman possibly satisfy me anymore?" His words hit me like a physical blow, and I froze.

In the second year of my marriage to Griffin Lockwood, he brought a young model home. He shot explicit, intimate photos of her, right in our living room. Griffin casually mocked me, suggesting I should try to enjoy life the way he did. He was testing me, tormenting me. But he didn't know that this time, I was genuinely tempted. Later, when Griffin saw the one-of-a-kind silver bracelet I had personally designed on another man's wrist, his eyes turned scarlet with rage. "Cora Hayes," he growled, "who gave you the nerve to actually follow through?"

When the men from Chicago's Callahan family captured me, I sent ninety-nine messages to my fiancé, Killian, begging for help. He deleted them all. "After Stanra orchestrated that car crash to hurt Briar, I sent her back to Long Island—but I had my most elite team of bodyguards escorting her. The Callahans couldn't possibly touch her," he scoffed. "I just gave Briar the design rights to that one office, that's all. Now Stanra's overreacting again, trying to get my attention back. It's pathetic." He paced, his movements sharp with irritation. "Briar's brother died protecting me. He was my most trusted Capo. I swore I would protect her in his place. Tell Stanra—no matter what tantrum she throws, I will not abandon Briar. If she keeps making a scene over nothing, I'll call off the engagement." Three days later, he drove to the Caruso estate, engagement ring in hand, ready to make peace with me. At that very moment, an envoy from the Callahan family delivered a refrigerated box. Killian glanced at it and breathed a sigh of relief. "Looks like she's given in. All that drama was just Stanra kicking up a fuss over nothing." The lid was lifted. Inside was— My head. The funeral bells atop the estate's chapel began to toll. Slow. Heavy. Final. The chapel doors opened. The priest emerged, dressed in black funeral vestments, his face grim. "Miss Stanra Caruso, daughter of the Caruso family, has been returned to us. The funeral will begin immediately."

My fiancé, New York real estate tycoon Ethan Thorne, was diagnosed with acute leukemia. He needed a bone marrow transplant. And I was his only perfect match. I donated my marrow without a second thought. The post-operative pain and weakness left me a wreck. Late one night, I dragged myself out of bed to get him a glass of water. His unlocked laptop glowed faintly on the desk. A folder, titled "Revenge Plan." I clicked on it. The journal inside detailed his five-year-long plot for revenge. Everything was for his ex-girlfriend, Scarlett, who was set to return from Europe. Donating my marrow was the final step. Ethan’s journal read: "Scarlett comes back next week. By then, I’ll finally be free of her."