Almost There
/1/127579/coverbig.jpg?v=2ea34f2e2c2f3053a637d5acfe2fbf25)
His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius
I flew back to New York on my twenty-fifth birthday, carrying vintage gold cufflinks I spent weeks finding for my billionaire husband, Declan. But when I walked into our townhouse, I found him throwing a massive victory party with Sloane, a glamorous socialite, standing by his side as the proud hostess. "Don't cause a scene. Go upstairs." Declan coldly dismissed me in front of his guests. Even Poppy, the rookie player whose shattered ankle I had painstakingly rebuilt, rolled her eyes and ignored me to suck up to Sloane. Hiding in the shadows, I heard the maids gossiping that everyone thought Sloane was the future Mrs. Hartford. To make matters worse, I discovered Sloane had stolen my anonymous, groundbreaking medical algorithm and was planning to present it as her own. First my husband, then the girl I mentored like family, and now the scientific foundation I had built with my own hands. Declan even texted me to cancel our birthday breakfast without a single apology, treating me like an annoying afterthought. My tears vanished, replaced by a freezing clarity. I signed the divorce papers, leaving them on his desk with zero demands for his money. Then I packed my bags, booked a one-way ticket to Boston, and prepared to destroy them on the global stage.
Chapter 1
Aurelia Vance POV:
I had been married to Declan Hartford for three years.
Today was my twenty-fifth birthday, and I had flown back from Boston in secret, hoping for one quiet evening with my husband.
I'd spent a week carefully picking out a pair of gold cufflinks as a gift for my husband.
But the laughter spilling from the front door told me I was already too late: the woman who had taken my place at his side was already inside.
The heavy oak door swung open before I reached the porch. Three young players from the New York Titans, Declan's NHL franchise, stumbled out with crystal tumblers of scotch, laughing loudly. They barely glanced at me as they passed.
I stepped into the grand foyer. The heat hit me instantly,expensive champagne, roasted tenderloin, cigar smoke.
Dozens of people filled the double parlor: executives, scouts, wives in designer dresses.
In the center stood Declan, tall and broad in a bespoke charcoal suit. Beside him, laughing into his ear, was Sloane Whitfield, her backless silver dress catching the chandelier light. Her hand rested on his forearm like she belonged there.
Before I could take another breath, a blur of blonde hair darted past my elbow.
"Sloane!" Poppy Delacroix cried, throwing her arms around Sloane's slender waist. "You were completely right about the catering! This is literally the best victory party the team has ever had!"
Poppy is fourteen, a junior elite forward prospect.
I scouted her two years ago from a crumbling youth league, back when she was at her lowest.
Her parents had once shown me great kindness, and I knew they had already passed away, leaving her all alone in the world.
Declan and I adopted her together.
I rebuilt her shattered ankle with a custom rehabilitation plan.
I had always loved and cared for her as both a mother and a sister.
Now, she did not even glance in my direction.
Declan turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the crowd until his eyes locked onto mine. The easy grin on his sharp jaw vanished instantly. His brows drew together in a hard, irritated line.
He excused himself from Sloane, cutting through the throng of players with long, impatient strides.
"Aurelia," Declan said, stopping two feet in front of me. His voice carried zero warmth. "What are you doing here?"
My throat felt like sandpaper.
"I took the four o'clock flight from Boston," I whispered, clutching the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white. "It is my birthday, Declan. I thought we could—"
"We are celebrating the division win," he cut in, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. "The board is here. The sponsors are here. Sloane spent four consecutive days coordinating this event so the organization could project stability."
He did not look at me. His gaze slid past my shoulder to the bar, like I was a waitress who had wandered into the wrong room.
"Don't cause a scene," he added quietly. "Go upstairs."
A soft, mocking murmur rippled through a cluster of players' wives standing near the grand staircase. Two women with platinum blowouts exchanged knowing glances over their flutes of Dom Pérignon.
"I didn't know," I said, my voice barely audible over the swelling music. "I am sorry."
I turned toward the staircase, my legs trembling beneath my wool trousers.
Near the landing, Poppy was adjusting her designer jacket in the hallway mirror.
"Poppy," I said softly, pausing beside her. "How is your ankle feeling after Thursday's third period? Did you complete the isometric sequence I sent?"
Poppy rolled her eyes, sighing loudly as she pulled out her phone.
"Aurelia, please, not right now," she muttered without looking at me. "Sloane is introducing me to a marketing director from one of our partners. I don't have time for your spreadsheets."
The dismissive edge in her voice hit me harder than Declan's coldness. I had stayed up until three in the morning reviewing her biomechanical scans while she was recovering from surgery, and now I was just an annoyance in the way of her social ascent.
I walked up the rest of the stairs and entered the primary suite—the massive, sterile bedroom allocated to me under our prenuptial agreement.
I sat on the edge of the mattress and pulled out the velvet box. The gold cufflinks gleamed under the bedside lamp, cold and useless.
Downstairs, cheers erupted. The sound vibrated through the floorboards.
I walked to the French doors overlooking the rear garden. Down on the illuminated patio, Sloane was directing two servers by an ice sculpture. Declan stood beside her, his head bent down as he listened to her speak, his hand casually brushing the small of her back.
They looked like the couple the city expected them to be.
My phone buzzed in my coat pocket. I pulled it out, hoping against hope.
It was an email notification.
"Happy Birthday, Aurelia. Remember that true science requires patience and solitude. You are meant for greater arenas than New York boardrooms. -Dr. Edmund Sterling."
My mentor at Harvard was the only person in the world who had remembered.
I typed a brief "Thank you, Professor" and shut off the screen.
Hours passed. The bass eventually quieted, replaced by the occasional clatter of glassware and slamming car doors. My throat burned with thirst.
At two in the morning, I padded downstairs in my stocking feet to fetch a glass of water from the butler's pantry.
As I rounded the corner near the service hallway, the voices of two newly hired catering maids stopped me dead in my tracks.
"Miss Whitfield is stunning," the first girl whispered, scraping dessert plates into a bin. "Mr. Hartford's girlfriend carries herself like royalty."
"A girlfriend?" the other asked, pausing. "But isn't Mr. Hartford rumored to be married? Is it inappropriate to be this close with Whitfield?"
"Married?Where did that come from? Even if there was one, they must have split long ago. I've worked three events here this month, and Miss Whitfield is the only woman hosting by his side. Everyone knows she's the future Mrs. Hartford."
I shrank back into the cold shadow of the archway, my blood turning to ice.
In the home where I held a legal marriage certificate, my presence had already been wiped clean.
/1/127968/coverbig.jpg?v=1a9ef56507cc7586be1c8a67b68e851c)
Almost Strangers
I never expected my past to become my boss. Fifteen years ago, Morgan Aries was my best friend. Then an accident took his mother, my mother went to prison, and our families were torn apart. I never saw him again. Now, at 26, I finally have a stable job at Morgan Technologies. I should be celebratin
/0/17669/coverbig.jpg?v=7b8e66015999009856aa938e7afbaf1b)
Who Goes There?
Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so th
/0/78850/coverbig.jpg?v=24d43a73a1d252698af17c97b5f1a322)
ALMOST MINE, ALREADY HIS
Gregory William, a charming playboy billionaire, had never grasped the true meaning of life-until he met Camila. She isn't as beautiful or classy as the women revolving around him. But Camila has something none of them do: an effortless ability to make him laugh, even in his darkest moments. To Greg
/0/1716/coverbig.jpg?v=03cd5f63c09ffdd69dc03a45ffc76fec)
A Fool There Was
To begin a story of this kind at the beginning is hard; for when the beginning may have been, no man knows. Perhaps it was a hundred years ago - perhaps a thousand - perhaps ten thousand; and it may well be, yet longer ago, even, than that. Yet it can be told that John Schuyler came from a long line
/0/57155/coverbig.jpg?v=1fb809187deb02b14dd591b40626825f)
WHEN THERE IS LOVE
Roy D'silver had always been a rising star in the business world. With his natural charm and sharp wit, he quickly made a name for himself in Italy. But when an opportunity arose for his family to move to the United States, Roy knew it was a chance he couldn't pass up. As he settled in his new su
/0/2008/coverbig.jpg?v=40446ac2f09c047bfe6e9ce12e6f5f6b)
Here, There and Everywhere
So kindly a reception have the public accorded to The Days Before Yesterday that I have ventured into print yet again.
/0/99062/coverbig.jpg?v=8972c798a2911be862f59b59e3f1997d)
The things we almost were
"Kaelin, this feels wrong... we shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, his voice shaky, eyes darting away like he wasn't sure if he should even be here. "Relax... just trust me," I said quietly, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. He sighed, still looking conflicted. "But I'm not gay," he
/0/83138/coverbig.jpg?v=40eea7c1b366dbddc45d9ef6a28dcc64)
The Malice of the Almost-In-Laws
A romantic getaway, a beautiful Texas hotel, my fiancé Kevin by my side—it should have been perfect. I thought our future was set. Then searing pain hit. A ruptured ovarian cyst, internal bleeding. I was dying. Kevin? He ignored my pleas, focused on a non-refundable hotel, dismissing my agony
/0/17863/coverbig.jpg?v=2b7f5afa7931e5a9be368187de37bd16)
There Will Be Walrus First Volume V
From Cattimothy House comes the apex of Military Science Fiction anthologies. Edited by the outspoken and fearless Timothy the Talking Cat, one of America's foremost political philosophers and one of the aspiring leaders of the future, There Will Be Walrus contains stories of adventure and excitemen
/1/102297/coverbig.jpg?v=44d29525e0fea1f93432ef922c92f05e)
The Woman He Almost Killed Lives
I spent three years as the perfect girlfriend to Silicon Valley's "Ice King," August Armstrong, only to overhear him call our entire relationship a "training exercise" to win back my estranged stepsister, Caroline. He used me, then cast me aside, framing me for attacking Caroline at their engagemen
/0/99655/coverbig.jpg?v=4bfd563373f3d23740276c2744a96e6b)
The Toxic Love That Almost Destroyed Me
For five years, I was Broadway's golden girl, and my powerful CEO boyfriend, Brennan, was my anchor. Our love felt invincible, a modern fairytale written across city marquees. Then he met Aimee, a struggling musician he claimed saved his life in a car crash. He gave her the vintage guitar he'd pro
/0/14666/coverbig.jpg?v=0d715b7f5180d1e038088a0487534c3c)
Over There with the Canadians at Vimy Ridge
Over There with the Canadians at Vimy Ridge by George H. Ralphson
/1/106927/coverbig.jpg?v=de13db828942ff2147de846f6aad7087)
Forever Yours, Almost. Whitmere Family Legacy Book 1
A Whitmere Family Romance Ten years ago, Sloane Hart ran from the only man she ever loved. Not because she stopped loving him- but because loving Rhett Whitmere meant risking everything. Now she's back in Whitmere County, standing inside the luxury hotel he built from heartbreak, legacy, and a lo
/0/75007/coverbig.jpg?v=680a2858f9b997aeea61f7f8f7ad978a)
No love,Just hockey(...until there is love)
Welcome to Fairview - where the girls hit hard on and off the ice. Ivy Ransom plays to win. Rey Navarro plays with fire. Forced on the same team, their rivalry turns into something hotter - and way more complicated. But Fairview isn't just about hockey. It's fame, secrets, stolen kisses, and girls
/0/18564/coverbig.jpg?v=baf12d2c650d26f213777b9414291ab9)
Sink In Your Adoration
Never in her dreams had Rita expected that her life would change so drastically after one dramatic incident--her blind date with Aaron. She had slept with the man the previous night and had even tried to pay him off with one hundred for their one-night stand. She was caught off-guard when they go
/0/77579/coverbig.jpg?v=fe51793a7bbf495e04a7b797509ee118)
The Rejected Omega: There Were Times I Wished You Were Dead
"Take the money and disappear." I froze, my breath catching in my throat. "What...?" "You heard me." His forest-green eyes, once warm and captivating, were icy and unyielding now, cutting through me like shards of glass. "Take the money and get the fuck out of my life. I don't want you, Amber." *
/0/18722/coverbig.jpg?v=3b4c1e8620034e15e7cb44d9d3544731)
Lose In CEO's Love Tricks
For many years now, Carolyn had been having the same wild dream of intense, passionate moments with a strange man. Everything about the dreams was as vivid as real life, though she could never recall the stranger’s face. To be clear, she had no memory whatsoever of that one day seven years ago. And
/0/31471/coverbig.jpg?v=02b01ebcb0f73832f53ecdd04cea4870)
Mr. Nelson Winning His Ex-wife's Heart
In their three years of marriage, Chelsea had been a dutiful wife to Edmund. She used to think that her love and care would someday melt Edmund's cold heart, but she was wrong. Finally, she couldn't take the disappointment any longer and chose to end the marriage. Edmund had always thought that hi
