Eve Of A Thousand Wakes
/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.
/0/21869/coverbig.jpg?v=99f0628aac24501ed6819435b06b0c35)
Eve Of A Thousand Wakes
Ashley had everything: a husband, a company, a family. Or so she thought. Her husband was cheating on her. Her step-sister was stealing from her. Together, they took her company and made her life miserable for years. When Ashley finally stood up for herself-filing for divorce and suing them both-the
/0/43200/coverbig.jpg?v=826938fa2d6147a359ff89b8580da6c0)
A thousand shades of Megalomaniac
Cherry Allen was a woman in a predicament. She found herself torn between two choices that could both lead to misery and heartache. On one hand, there was Brandon Black, her egotistical boss who had an obsessive desire for power. He had made it clear that he wanted her and expected her to comply wi
/0/83143/coverbig.jpg?v=bf1c8183af73db1943a54e753e4e994a)
A Thousand Years of Vengeance
I, Selene, was a guardian of magic, my Lumina clan inextricably linked to the sacred Heartstone of Aethel. My life, though peaceful, was about to unravel. Without warning, the Heartstone vanished. In one brutal decree, my entire clan, my family, was executed for its theft. Only I, married to the
/0/15873/coverbig.jpg?v=012e8eecd1328ed17f8b382af3ecd4b2)
/0/55852/coverbig.jpg?v=20250816174643)
TEMPTATIONS OF EVE.
After Evelyn Rivera's parent brutal murder, she turned into a brutal leader, who swore to get revenge for her parents death. Not untill her heart is captured by her manager, who also happens to be an important figment of her past. Seth had his mind set on one thing before walking into Eve's wine
/0/2863/coverbig.jpg?v=775aefd4a90e54c15452c415a98754c3)
/0/4827/coverbig.jpg?v=f99c6e56a471ae40f70d09b59f6bf7a3)
The House of a Thousand Candles
A novel of romance and adventure, of love and valor, of mystery and hidden treasure. The hero is required to spend a whole year in the isolated house, which according to his grandfather's will shall then become his. If the terms of the will be violated the house goes to a young woman whom the will,
/0/2246/coverbig.jpg?v=94e06fad9077878307f2017038026e01)
Red Eve
1346: Eve Clattering, known as “Red Eve" for the color of her dress, weds a lustful traitor of a knight—against her will, for he dosed her with a love potion. Now her real love must brave plague-stricken Europe, on a desperate quest: to have Eve's illicit marriage annulled by the Pope!
/0/3910/coverbig.jpg?v=0191c1e8e881be4c3b2f812559e91c0b)
/0/554/coverbig.jpg?v=20171121192714)
When the Sleeper Wakes
One afternoon, at low water, Mr. Isbister, a young artist lodging at Boscastle, walked from that place to the picturesque cove of Pentargen, desiring to examine the caves there. Halfway down the precipitous path to the Pentargen beach he came suddenly upon a man sitting in an attitude of profound di
/0/84440/coverbig.jpg?v=e9df8b3dcfd2a1b0c591e8cddc35e2ba)
A Thousand Scars: Ava's Awakening
Ava Chen stood beside Julian Vance, tech billionaire, her fiancé. Tonight was their engagement announcement at a dazzling Silicon Valley gala. Everything seemed picture-perfect. Then, the ballroom doors opened, and in walked Seraphina Reed, Julian' s ex, the "White Redwood." Julian froze, droppi
/0/1689/coverbig.jpg?v=61625c2e30afc226276b64ce1847af79)
When the Sleeper Wakes
From the book:One afternoon, at low water, Mr. Isbister, a young artist lodging at Boscastle, walked from that place to the picturesque cove of Pentargen, desiring to examine the caves there. Halfway down the precipitous path to the Pentargen beach he came suddenly upon a man sitting in an attitude
/0/7984/coverbig.jpg?v=0bbec39bfb3752cf3f67f5bd8b8e3813)
/0/15872/coverbig.jpg?v=d8ef65c47b419e1a83fb9d9fd85d132c)
/0/1474/coverbig.jpg?v=932fcd17b6500d6cf131d4a22317c48e)
The First Book of Adam and Eve
It is considered by many scholars to be part of the "Pseudepigrapha", historical biblical works that are considered to be fiction. This stigma, prevented its inclusion in the compilation of the Holy Bible. Its a written history of what happened in the days of Adam and Eve after they were cast out of
/0/6170/coverbig.jpg?v=1585f1ef7d34ebacdb76beda8684cd11)
The Eve of the French Revolution
There are two ways in which the French Revolution may be considered. We may look at the great events which astonished and horrified Europe and America: the storming of the Bastille, the march on Versailles, the massacres of September, the Terror, and the restoration of order by Napoleon. The study o
/0/28709/coverbig.jpg?v=e7964c940b9a30f19f7aef8a42f2e32c)
The Samurai Of The Thousand Tears
It has always been Amber's dream to break through from the city life she has and decided to move forward and visit places like the Osakagi Region. To take the next step of her new journey, she must cross a bridge along with others. However, everything changed when the mysteries of the Osakagi mounta
/1/102459/coverbig.jpg?v=18837f26674d1271ead63c27c2004d24)
The Thousand-Day Streak of Lies
For ten years, I believed my long-distance relationship with my architect boyfriend, Griffith, was unbreakable. I was building a successful career, convinced our love was the one constant I could count on. That illusion shattered the day I saw his phone. A thousand-day Snapchat streak wasn't with m
/0/8622/coverbig.jpg?v=088af7cd6e9d3bf936f808835b2a3431)
Three Thousand Years of Mental Healing
Three Thousand Years of Mental Healing by George Barton Cutten
/0/99733/coverbig.jpg?v=26dc123fe5c9aa8d66d6201d9742ef9c)
Ninety-Nine Letters, A Thousand Lies
On our third anniversary, I found ninety-nine love letters my husband wrote. None of them were for me. They were for Kennedy, the woman who stole my award-winning design years ago, the woman he swore he was over. His letters spoke of a soul-deep connection, a passion I'd only ever dreamed of. Th
