8609 Book(s) Related to ex husband s regret the wife he discarded

"I'm pregnant," I whispered to the empty room, clutching the positive test while my husband zipped up his brother's widow's dress in the next room.

It was our one-year anniversary. I had spent weeks stitching a shirt for Alaric, hoping he’d remember me. Instead, I found him with Tazira. He didn't just ignore me; he looked at me with cold disgust, as if I were the dirt beneath his boots.

"I want her," he had claimed a year ago. Now, he only wanted to hurt me. He forced himself on me, using my body like a vessel for his rage, then left me bleeding on the couch to comfort her.

When the fire started—lit by Tazira’s own hand—I was tied up, suffocating in smoke. I screamed for him. I begged him to save our unborn pup. He burst through the door, looked me dead in the eyes... and turned away. He scooped Tazira up and carried her to safety, leaving me to burn.

That was the moment I died. Not physically, but my heart turned to ash. Through the roaring flames, I forced the bond to snap. "I, Elowen, reject you, Alaric Veylor."

He thinks I’m dead. He thinks he’s free to marry her. But I survived. And when I return, carrying the blood of a Queen he never knew existed, he will kneel in the ashes of his regret.

The day I disappeared, everyone thought I went on a "recovery trip overseas." Only she knew that I was in her basement—being drugged, tied up, and forced to work, living as a tool, relying on the threat that "someone outside wants to kill you."

I helped her refine her perfume formula to the point where it could be launched on the stock exchange, and she immediately wanted to "fire" me: she poured cement into my house during a torrential downpour, hoping I would die in a hallucination.

But I didn't die, and I even managed to recover my memories piece by piece.

The moment the stock exchange rang, I cut off the live stream signal, exposing the recordings, evidence, and transaction records on the spot. She went from a genius entrepreneur to a public enemy, and her default on buybacks ballooned to billions.

Only then did she come after me: kneeling, begging for forgiveness, risking her life to block cars, and finally collapsing in a hospital bed waiting for my forgiveness.

My adopted sister, Adriana, hit and injured Hadley Brooks—the prized mistress of Hartwell’s mafia boss, Dario Salvatore—and fled the scene.
Don Salvatore gave us exactly three days. And so, my husband and my parents all turned their eyes to me: Go take the fall for her. You always know how to fix things.
I agreed.
What they didn't know was that on that very same day, my doctor had given me my own deadline: I had, at most, three days left to live.

After Martina Martinez and Benjamin Walker's breakup, paparazzi captured photos of the business tycoon entering the Walker family mansion with a mysterious woman late at night.

This caused a stir, and this wealthy family was bombarded by various media outlets.

During a phone interview, the gossip reporter asked, "Miss Martinez, how do you feel now that Mr. Walker has a new girlfriend?"

Martina held her painful forehead and looked towards Benjamin, who was adjusting his suit by the floor-to-ceiling window. He gestured for her to come over and help him with his tie.

Holding her phone, Martina responded, "It's... complicated!"

The reporter's heart leaped with joy and asked, "Is it heartbroken?!"

Martina was about to nod, but Benjamin raised his eyebrows and took her phone away.

His deep and alluring voice was heard on the other end of the line, "New girlfriend? Whose?"

"Enough, Serafina! The thing rigged to the parasail is just a mannequin. It's not your mother! Cut the damn act!"

I watched helplessly as my severely ill mother plummeted from hundreds of feet in the air, smashing into the bone-chilling ocean.

My husband was holding my stepsister, a doting smile playing on his lips.

My own biological son clapped his hands in glee—because he was the one who had blindly pushed the release button.

They all said I was faking it. They said I was vicious, toxic, and jealous.

It wasn't until I erased every last trace of my existence and vanished entirely from their lives that they dug through the wreckage of our past like madmen, desperate to find me.

I was just the mate of the Alpha fated mate and the nanny to my child, not his Luna.
I dedicated my life to him, but he never loved me—this was all because I was just a wolfless omega.
Until his ex returned, everyone, including my mate and even my child, looked down on me. Everyone believed she should be the Luna.
I turned and walked out of the house, choosing to live for myself.
Three months later, I became the world’s most renowned white wolf healer, appearing on television.
Son (shocked): "Dad, is that... my mom on TV?"

When the fourth victim from the Chicago arsonist landed on my brother's autopsy slab, I watched from above, a ghost trapped in the room.
As the city's star medical examiner, he recited his findings with detached precision. "Female, twenties. Evidence of controlled, prolonged burning prior to death." He had no idea he was cataloging my murder.
Three days earlier, in that same warehouse, I'd begged into my phone. His fiancée, Harper, held it for me, her smile a blend of sugar and venom. "Call him again, Ivy. Maybe he'll answer for his poor little sister this time?"
A click. Then, his voice.
"Julian, please—"
"Not now, Ivy. I'm choosing our wedding rings."
The dial tone pierced the air. Harper struck the match.
Now, in the morgue's fluorescent glare, I see the blood drain from his face. The report trembles in his hand. Every measurement, every scar—they all whisper my name.
Oh, Julian. With every incision, you were reading my last words.
The killer is right beside you, already in her white dress.

My fiancé and I held twenty-one weddings. I put on my wedding dress twenty-one times, only to crawl out of pools of blood each time.

Car accidents. Shootings. Explosions. Fires.

Everyone said I was cursed, that I was bad luck for my husband.

I was the only fool who believed they were accidents.

Until the twenty-second time.

That day, covered in blood, I escaped from an ambush back to headquarters and heard him say coldly over the walkie-talkie, "She won't die. Save Valerie first."

It turned out all the accidents were personally arranged by him.

He didn't love me—he just owed my parents a debt he could never repay.

So he staged disaster after disaster to get out of marrying me.

At the twenty-second wedding, I didn't wait for him to cancel.

This time, I was the one who called it off.

I built my husband Evan's Hollywood acting empire alongside him, and we kept our marriage hidden from the public. I once believed our bond was unbreakable. Until I checked his car's navigation history.
For an entire year, every Wednesday night, my movie-star husband lied about working overnight film shoots. When I followed the GPS route to its destination, I found the apartment of his rival actress, Leah.
Then I found more lies. It was only after I vanished completely that Evan realized what he had lost. But by then, I was no longer the woman he left behind.
Some secrets exposed by GPS can never be erased. Some women can never be found again.

Kane was an ex-convict — a nobody. His wife's family treated him like dirt.

They didn't know his secret.

Ten years ago, he was framed. But in prison, he became something else. Today, he is the Mercenary King — commander of millions.

He hides his power to protect his wife and daughter. He plays the loser. He takes the insults.

But when his enemies cross the line…

The Mercenary King will stop pretending.

Daphne's groom failed to appear on the day of their wedding. Daphne was so devastated by the breakup that she lost control and drank all night, eventually running into Nathan, a successful businessman who had recently relocated to the country.
Daphne, inebriated at the time, barged into Nathan's private meeting, causing him to lose some of his most lucrative clients. Daphne spent the night in detention as a result of this incident.
As an apology for Daphne's hasty actions, however, Nathan offered her a deal - to be naughty nephew's private teacher.
Later on, Daphne learns that Nathan is the man who caused her misery years before. He is her ex-groom.

To save her kidnapped fiancé, Sophia is willing to dance on a livestream, sacrificing even the last shred of her dignity.

But after she finally fulfills every demand of the kidnappers, she hears the so-called “hostage” laughing on the other end of the call.

“I can’t believe she was actually that stupid. And dressed like such a slut, too. I guess she’s just naturally that promiscuous.”

Betrayed by the man she loved most, Sophia turns around and marries Sebastian Crawford—the powerful man everyone fears.

She thinks their marriage is nothing more than a marriage of convenience, a simple deal between two people who each need something from the other.

But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Her cold and ruthless husband not only helps her destroy every enemy who ever wronged her, but also slowly turns her into the untouchable Mrs. Crawford.

Meanwhile, the man who once pushed her into the abyss begins to lose his mind after realizing what he has lost.

When Sophia appears in public with her arm linked through Sebastian’s, he finally understands—

The woman who once would have sacrificed everything for him no longer belongs to him.

Just when everyone thinks Sophia has finally reclaimed her life, Sebastian reveals a truth she never expected:

Their marriage was never as simple as she believed.

And the man who has been waiting for her has been waiting far longer than she ever knew.

I spent ten years following Ashton around like it was my job. He said jump, I jumped. He said he was hungry, I went and made him a sandwich. His homework, his fights, his messes — I handled all of it. I thought that's what being close to someone meant.
Then at the fall pep rally, in front of two thousand people, he strapped me to a platform, blasted me with paint, and let his girlfriend laugh at me through a megaphone.
I was the punchline. I threw up on camera. The video went viral before I even hit the ground.
So I did the one thing nobody expected — I vanished. New school, new city, new number. Every trace of him, gone.
I thought that was the end of it.
But Ashton doesn't let go of what he thinks is his. And what he's willing to do to drag me back? I wasn't even close to ready for that.

My fiancé has tried to kill me seventeen times.

Everyone says I'm cursed by the Moon Goddess. Five years, seventeen mating ceremonies—all ending in blood.

An eagle's talons through my spine. Poisoned wine that stopped my heart. Ritual flames that charred my skin. Each time, I survived. Each time, Kael Silverblade held my hand and swore it was fate's cruelty, not his.

I believed him.

Until the seventeenth time.

Blood moon. Three assassins. Nine bone blades cutting precise lines across my body—missing every vital organ, maximizing the pain. I writhed on the sacred stones, screaming until my voice broke.

Three days later, still wrapped in bandages, I heard him talking to his lieutenant outside the healing den.

"Lord Silverblade, she almost died this time. Maybe we should—"

"No." Kael's voice was ice. "Her brother saved my life. My grandfather swore a blood debt—a mating bond to repay it. But goddammit, I love Vira. I've always loved Vira. Not her."

Silence.

"Keep the accidents coming," he said. "As long as she won't let go, we keep going. She'll break eventually. She has to."

I pressed against the wall, tears streaming down my face.

Seventeen times. Not curses. Not fate.

Him.

The male I'd loved since I was sixteen.

But here's what Kael doesn't know—this time, he finally wins.

I won't survive the next full moon.

I was murdered. My body was dumped on the riverbank.
The detective leading the case is Brennan Carter — my husband. He has sworn to find the killer of this "unidentified female." He doesn't know the victim is me.
I've been missing for seven days. My colleagues and supervisors keep calling Brennan to ask where I am. Dismissing it as a tantrum, he's spent the week doing one thing: celebrating his mistress Tessa's birthday.
It wasn't until my phone turned up at the crime scene that it finally hit him — the wife he'd wished would disappear might actually be gone.

I used to think I had the perfect family.
My husband Nico started coming home less and less, always saying he had a meeting. But the truth was, he had another woman, Alessia. And it had been going on for a while.
The affair I could've handled. What really killed me was that my son Leo and my daughter Mia had known all along. They'd even started calling his mistress "Mom."
They thought I was clueless. But I'd known for months, his assistant had told me everything.
I tried so hard to win them back. I did more for them, cared more, tried harder. But they kept choosing Alessia.
That day, I stopped trying.
They could all have each other—Nico, Alessia, Leo, Mia.
I hoped they'd be happy together.

As the eldest daughter of North America’s most feared Mafia family, the Romanos, I married Matteo purely for love. For five years, everyone constantly envied me, thinking I was the luckiest woman alive.

Until I opened that video file.

The screen flickered to life, and my world violently collapsed.

The woman he had completely pinned against the wall, thrusting into her with feral desperation, was Valentina. His sweet, innocent adopted sister. The girl we had both carefully grown up with.

And the hands gripping her waist so tightly they bruised? They bore the exact wedding band I had lovingly slipped onto Matteo’s finger.

"Oh God, brother… you're so hard. If your perfect wife knew you were deep inside me right now, she’d lose her mind."

"Good girl, then stop talking about that boring piece of wood."

My refined, elegant husband was groaning, his voice filthy and depraved between loud, wet slaps of skin. "Squeeze tighter, fuck... You drive me insane, baby. The moment I successfully drain all her family’s stock, you’ll be the true mistress of this whole estate."

Every sweet nothing he had ever whispered to me was a calculated lie, designed to completely destroy me.

Those two despicable cheaters believe they have successfully won. They think my marriage was built on submission.

Well, since this rising Mafia star completely forgot that I am a Romano first and a wife second, it’s severely past time I gave him a taste of my own wicked performance.

Playtime is over. Matteo thinks he can steal my empire while burying his face in his sister’s bed?

I am going to carefully tear down his "perfect husband" facade piece by bleeding piece, and aggressively send them both straight to hell.

Catching her husband mid-affair at a hotel, Arabella Bourbon didn't hesitate—she filed for divorce.

On the day the papers were finalized, with her ex and his mistress watching, she grabbed a random stranger and marched straight to the courthouse.

Everyone mocked her for trading a wealthy husband for some nobody in sales. What they didn't know? Her new husband was the billionaire who controlled the world's economy.

“You’re nothing, Martha—just a wreck I’ll always own,” Nicholas hisses, his words dripping with malice.

Martha Whitmore fled a monster of a husband, only to stumble into a stranger’s bed—drunk, desperate, and drowning in Seattle’s shadows. One night with Garrison Donovan, a billionaire with secrets as dark as hers, was supposed to be her escape. Now the reality of being pregnant threatens to unravel her fragile new start. As Nicholas stalks closer and Garrison’s world of betrayal looms, Martha’s next move could break her—or bind her to a man she barely knows. Will she run again, or face the storm she’s ignited?

I’m Molly Johnson. At my own engagement party, I witnessed my fiancé’s betrayal with my stepsister right before my eyes. Devastated, I turned around and married Edward Howard—a wealthy heir rumored to be terminally ill, with not much time left to live.
Everyone laughed, saying I was in a hurry to become a widow. But little did they know, I leaned close to his ear, my breath warm and teasing: “Since you don’t have much time left, why not play a little game with me?”
I flirted with him, tempted him, watched as his indifference slowly melted into a blush at the tips of his ears.
Until one day, he cornered me against the wall, his eyes burning with longing. “Molly… tease me again. Please.”

At our engagement party, my fiancé's first love confessed her feelings for him in front of everyone.
Without a second thought, he shoved me aside and ran after her, leaving me to be hit by a car.
While I was in the hospital, he brought her into our home and forced me to eat food I was allergic to.
Most absurd of all, he personally sent me to the operating table so I could give her my kidney.
She tortured my cat to death, and all he said was, "It was just a cat."
The day I decided to leave the country, he thought I had died in a plane crash. Then he got into a car accident and lost his memory, remembering only the version of us at eighteen—when we were in love.
Too bad some scars never fade.

I always thought Arthur's surgical hands were a gift from God.

When my sister Emily was crushed in a car crash, he spent ten grueling hours in the OR. He emerged exhausted, eyes red, and pulled me tight. "I'm sorry, Anna. I tried everything," he whispered. "But her heart... it can still save someone else."

I believed him. God help me, I even thanked him.

A year later, I cracked his locked safe and found a black flash drive.

The security footage showed my husband hovering over Emily's ICU bed. He didn't call for help. He didn't try to save her. He just watched her oxygen drop, then calmly reached out and yanked her breathing tube.

One room over, his first love was waiting for a heart transplant.

Just like that, my world vanished. My husband wasn't a savior in a white coat. He was an executioner.

I died on that operating table.

Arthur cut my five-year-old son Leo open and took his kidneys to save his bastard kid. Leo died. I died. They threw us out like garbage in the snow.

But I came back.

Back to that same rainy night. This time when Arthur tried stealing Leo's life-saving medicine for that bitch Lily, I slapped her face to pieces.

Outside the OR, Arthur shoved donation papers at me. I laughed and dialed a number I'd buried five years ago.

"Viktor? Your sister needs a favor. Bring your guns."

Explosions echoed through the hospital as my brother walked through the smoke.

"Nobody touches my nephew." His gun pressed against Arthur's forehead.

Arthur was scared shitless: "Jesus Christ... you're a Rockwell?!"

Too bad he figured it out too late.

At a lavish dinner, a billionaire with a net worth of four billion embraced my ex-wife and slapped five thousand yuan in my face: "Kneel down, kiss her shoes, and then get out of here."
The entire audience of celebrities burst into laughter, while the ex-wife's eyes were filled with the pleasure of revenge.
Without even lifting my eyelids, I dialed a number in front of everyone: "I'm going to bankrupt one person. Execution level: nuclear bomb."
They laughed at me for pretending to be crazy.
Three minutes later, the entire nation was in an uproar. Four billion dollars in assets were frozen, the FBI broke down the door, and the once arrogant tycoon collapsed to the ground like a dog.
I endured for three years, just to save her grandfather's life. Since she's in such a hurry to break the contract, I don't need to pretend anymore.
This is not just a story about divorce; it's a countdown to the gods regaining control of the Book of Life and Death on Earth.

Everyone used to say Ryan Scott loved me more than his own life.
I used to believe that too.
Then I found out I was pregnant with Ryan’s child—
and that’s when my adopted sister told me she was pregnant with his child as well.
So I chose revenge.
I emptied his accounts, staged the perfect accident, and planned my own “death.”
On the day I “died,” Ryan completely broke down, clutching my urn like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
While he sobbed his heart out in front of my photo, I was already holding another man’s hand—the man who never let go of me when I was at my lowest—
and walking toward the brand‑new life that truly belonged to me.

The night my childhood fiancé humiliated me in front of our entire senior class, I didn't cry.
I just went home and made two decisions.

Lose the 60 pounds.
Secretly reject my Princeton acceptance.
I erased his number, packed my bags, and vanished from his toxic orbit. Nathan thinks he won.
He thinks he finally shook off the "burden" his parents forced on him.
But what happens when the girl you spent your whole life running away from... becomes the only woman you can't live without?

Thirteen years. That's how long I loved Reid Holloway.
When he said he was being bullied, I believed him. When he kissed me on that rooftop, I thought he felt the same. When he asked me to transfer schools with him, I said yes without hesitation.
Then I heard him bragging to his friends: "She'd save her first time for me. Hell, she'd still be thinking of me on her wedding night."
The bullying was staged. The kiss meant nothing. He just wanted me gone—so his new girl could feel more comfortable.
He thought I'd beg. He thought I'd cry. He thought I'd never actually leave.
I left the country.
And ran straight into his stepbrother.

My mother rips my long-hidden Orion star chart to pieces and hurls the scraps straight into my face like garbage.
For seventeen years, I’ve been the praised straight-A good girl, my shirt collars always buttoned all the way up. I’ve lived solely for one goal: an acceptance letter from Yale, my ticket out of this suffocating cage.
But the second she locks my bedroom door from the outside, it hits me cold: blind obedience only traps you tighter.
Just as despair crashes over me, a silver lighter clatters against my windowsill. Zane—the biker delinquent everyone at school steers clear of—pries open my window and holds out his hand to me.
To hell with the Ivy League. Tonight, Aria’s jumping out of this window that’s kept me prisoner.

On our third wedding anniversary, my husband declared my twin sister as his fated mate.
As Luna of the Hilton Pack, I suffered seven miscarriages—only to be betrayed by the two closest to me. But when three ruthless mafia Alphas stormed into our celebration and seized my husband by the throat, their words stunned everyone:"How dare you treat our fated mate this way?"
Now they call me a sinner, yet claim me as their own. This time, I'll make every traitor beg on their knees for forgiveness.

Synopsis: Dr. Camelia Hayes, a famous marriage counsellor has the perfect husband. He is handsome, kind, and successful.

Then one day, she receives an anonymous package containing photographs of seven women.
Each woman dated the same man and each woman disappeared after saying yes to his proposal.

The shocking news: Her seemingly perfect husband is the man in every picture.
The problem is...
The photos were taken years before he was born.

Because of Zara’s excessive drunkenness, she accidentally had a One Night Stand with the man she had always been dreaming about – Lucas Blackwood. Unfortunately, Lucas despised Zara for spreading her legs and then he threatened her after ruining his relationship with a long-time fiancée.
Things became more complicated when Zara became pregnant and Lucas was obliged to marry her. After the marriage, Lucas made sure to punish Zara for ruining his life.
It’s a loveless marriage but as soon as Zara asked for a divorce, Lucas realized that the woman has earned a place in his heart. He became possessive to his soon-to-be ex-wife, and their loveless marriage turned into a beautiful love story.

After 3 years of bloody battles, the War King returns, only to hear his fiancée Elena “fell to her death”. But he finds she’s alive, pregnant, and imprisoned. He swears to slaughter all enemies and protect his woman and unborn child.

"Don't test me, Stone; your family has always thought that it was untouchable... Felt on top of the world, didn't you? You didn't care about who you needed to stomp down to get there?"

His fingers hung dangerously over the trigger; I shook as far as my binds would let me, tears rolling down to the gag in my mouth… that muffled my cries.

But even as I had the gun pointed at my head, my husband was not looking at me; his eyes were purely placed on Liliana.

“Talk to me, you bastard!.. You have to choose between your wife or your first love.”

On her wedding day, Aurora chased after her runaway groom who went to console his first love, only to be kidnapped along with that woman and tortured for 3 days straight until she was met with the ultimate pain; her fiancée, who she thought would turn to her forever, choosing another woman over her and not only that but confessing that his first love was carrying his child too. Just like she was, except he would never find out. At least not in that life; she took a bullet to the head and was reborn on the day of her wedding. When he runs off to meet his first love and console her again, she doesn't foolishly chase after him; rather, she walks towards his brother, the most desirable bachelor in the city, and says, “Will you marry me instead?"

Because of Zara’s excessive drunkenness, she accidentally had a One Night Stand with the man she had always been dreaming about – Lucas Blackwood. Unfortunately, Lucas despised Zara for spreading her legs and then he threatened her after ruining his relationship with a long-time fiancée.
Things became more complicated when Zara became pregnant and Lucas was obliged to marry her. After the marriage, Lucas made sure to punish Zara for ruining his life.
It’s a loveless marriage but as soon as Zara asked for a divorce, Lucas realized that the woman has earned a place in his heart. He became possessive to his soon-to-be ex-wife, and their loveless marriage turned into a beautiful love story.

In his past life, Ethan was thrown straight to the flesh-eating horde by his bitter rival, Ryan.
Reborn days before the outbreak, he liquidates every asset he owns to build an impenetrable fortress—trading useless paper wealth for heavy steel plates, industrial deadbolts, and hard inventory numbers.
Ten days later, hell opens up, and the suburbs turn into a lawless, blood-soaked meat grinder.
Then comes a frantic knock on his heavy security door.
It’s Mara—Ryan’s drop-dead gorgeous, curvaceous wife—soaked to the bone, desperate, and begging for shelter.
Behind his wall of monitors, Ethan looks down at the security feed with absolute, icy detachment.
"My fortress. My rules. Out here, I call the shots."

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's "invisible wife".
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the "Gifted Doctor's" time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary "Ghost Surgeon"? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen "Raven"? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan—the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants—blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

Nora Williams was a fake celebrity influencer who built her reputation by wearing fake designer items online.

She was a minor celebrity in real life but a major one on the internet. Everyone believed she was a wealthy and privileged heiress; however, in reality, she struggled to make ends meet, barely able to pay her rent.

One fateful night, she encountered a powerful man, Leon Carruso, who saw through her fake image. Instead of exposing her, he offered to turn her fictional life into reality. "This perfect life that you want it so badly... I could make it happen in the blink of an eye, but there is one condition – you must marry me in return, Nora…”

“This life you promised me; why didn’t you warn me about it? Why didn’t you tell me it was you from back then? You tricked me into marrying you!”

“Well, let me explain…”

For the third time, Kael fled before the wedding—this time to deliver medicine to the neighbor girl he grew up with.
As compensation, the pack elders offered me two chests of rare ore and the deed to an island.
Someone, still hopeful, called Kael on speakerphone.
His careless voice echoed through the hall:
“Why bother with compensation? Ella loves me so much; she’ll come around as soon as I go back and sweet-talk her a little.”
“Sophia’s health is what matters now. Once she recovers, I’ll just hold another ceremony for Ella.”
The elders tried to explain, but the surrounding werewolves were all waiting to see the show—waiting to see how much humiliation I would swallow.
Just like the first two times.
But I’d had enough. And I’d lost all interest in Kael.
I kicked over the chest of ore and let my gaze fall on Kael’s uncle.
Then, I smiled.
“I heard the old Alpha left a will: whoever can claim me… becomes the next Alpha.”

I thought Auden was the most devoted husband in the world—until the day I regained my sight and recognized him on the front page: a serial killer who had murdered eight blonde women.
I had to play blind. I swallowed the liquid the maid brought me—a brew soaked in dead people's eyeballs. I chewed on a human molar in my dinner. I sat perfectly still as I watched him fuck our maid right in front of me, not daring to let a single expression slip.
Because the exact second my vision returned, an anonymous text had popped up on my phone: Don't let Auden know you can see.

My husband, Marco, in his bid for the position of Don, was forced to marry the young widow of the previous Don, Claudia.
Every night, after returning from Claudia’s place, he would hold me and swear, "You’re the only woman I love, Elena. Claudia has the connections I need. Once I have real power and secure my position, I’ll make you my wife in name and in public."
But as I waited for him to rise to power, what started as a political act turned into nights where he simply never came home.
Then, on Christmas, I was dragged to their engagement party—where I was beaten in front of everyone.
Our six-year-old daughter, Sophia, knelt on the floor, crying and begging him, "Godfather, please, let my mommy go..."
But Marco stayed silent.
"It’s okay," I whispered, picking up my wounded daughter. "Mommy’s going to take you somewhere that truly belongs to us."
What Marco never knew was this: I never cared about being the Donna of this small city.
I am the only heir of the Rossi family—the most powerful Mafia family in all of Sicily.

For as long as I could remember, I had lived under the protection of Casper, Julian, and Rowan.
I took their affection for granted, never expecting that their deep devotion would suddenly curdle into something unrecognizable.
When Elara, a new intern, crashed into our lives, they defended and favored her at every turn. They handed over my hard work on a silver platter, painting me as nothing more than a spoiled, unreasonable princess.
On a night of torrential rain, stranded on the highway and enduring excruciating pain, I begged them for help time and time again. All I received were scoldings and dismissals.
It turned out that their so-called "doing what's best for me" was just a cold war, a calculated cruelty designed to force my head down.
I stopped crying and begging. I signed my resignation letter, returned everything they had ever given me, and agreed to an arranged marriage far away in Italy.
This absurd farce, started by them, would be ended by my own hands.

Alexandra Moretti has not taken a single step down the aisle when the cathedral doors open behind her.
A nurse comes in with a newborn and a birth record. The mother is in surgery. The father, she says, is the groom.
Vincent DeLuca does not deny it. Neither does his family. They offer ten minutes in the priest's office and a simple arrangement: the boy will be provided for quietly, and Alexandra will still be Mrs. DeLuca.
They have misjudged her.
This was never a wedding. It was a merger, and Alexandra is the only person in the room who read every clause. She sets the ring on a pew, orders her security chief to recover the signed papers, and walks out of St. Patrick's before the ink is dry.
Her father does not stop her.
By tonight, the DeLucas will find out how much of their empire was only ever borrowed.

When they crossed paths again after years apart, everyone thought it was fate—of course they'd get back together.
But Charisse Walton only offered a wry smile.
"Not happening. I dumped him, remember? He's probably just here to settle the score."
What she didn't know... was how many times Elliot Grant had silently protected her from the shadows.
Meanwhile, Elliot scoffed, hands buried in his pockets.
"Please. She never even liked me."
What he didn't realize... was that years ago, Charisse had risked everything—even her life—for him.
Two hearts.
Two stories full of silence, sacrifice, and everything left unsaid.
And now, after all this time, the truth is about to break through.

The night before her wedding, Leah Carter caught her fiancé Elias in bed with another woman.

Elias humiliated her, manipulated her, and even plotted to pass her off to another man like an object to be discarded. In her most desperate moment, Matto Moretti came crashing through the door — reeking of blood and violence, the kind of man the entire underworld feared without question. He put a bullet through Elias's shoulder without blinking, then caught Leah's chin between his fingers, his voice low and absolute:

"Your man slept with my woman. That makes you responsible for the debt. Sign the paper and marry me."

Leah's Perspective

I told myself I was nothing more than a canary in his gilded cage — a substitute, a stand-in for someone else's sin.

We had known each other for exactly one month, and none of it made any sense. He detonated into my life like a bomb: money, tenderness, protection — all of it arriving at once, all of it suffocating in its intensity. He behaved like a man completely undone by me, and yet we had barely known each other thirty days.

Was this love at first sight? I didn't think so. There had to be another reason. I didn't know what I was to him, or why he looked at me the way he did — like a man who had loved me for years. And I knew nothing about him. Nothing at all.

Matto's Perspective

She will never know that she has been mine since long before any of this began.

I am not proud of how I came to have her. But that doesn't matter. What matters is this: you have no idea how long I have loved you. It started before all of this — before the gun, before the contract, before she ever knew my name. She will never know the truth of it, and that is fine. She only needs to know that I love her in ways that would frighten her if she ever truly understood.

As long as she stays, I would give her everything. My empire. My fortune. My life, without a moment's hesitation.

The man the world knew as cold-blooded and untouchable had been loving Leah Carter in the dark for years.

He would make Elias pay for what he had done. He would unearth the truth of her buried identity — a secret twenty years in the making. And in every shadow she could not see, he would clear the thorns from her path before she ever felt them, becoming the sharpest blade she never knew she carried.

Matto gave Leah his wealth and his kingdom. More than that, he gave her his heart — fierce, honest, and entirely hers.

"You have been mine since that day, long before you knew it."

"The whole world may fear me. But you — you are only ever allowed to love me."

He did not marry her on impulse.

He married her because he had been planning it for a very long time, and he had never once intended to let her go.

Leah × Matto — You are the captive in my hands, and the only salvation I have ever known.

I'm two months pregnant with Tristan's baby when Brielle, the woman he'd do anything for, shoves me down the stairs.

She calls it an accident. I lose the baby.

I beg my husband to do something about it. Instead, he shields her and turns it around on me.

"Brielle saved my life in that fire. The whole Merrick family owes her. So drop it."

That debt. Always that debt.

Three years. No matter how many times Brielle humiliates me, degrades me, Tristan only ever has one answer: "I owe her my life."

But the truth about that fire? I'm the only one in the world who knows it.

I tried to tell him once. He laughed in my face. "Adeline, you're so desperate for attention you'd make up something like that?"

So I shut my mouth. Buried the truth. Buried whatever was left of my heart along with it.

The man I trusted with my life just handed my child to the woman who killed them, and called it loyalty.

I'm done.

I pull up the number I blocked three years ago and hit call.

"Dad. I'll take over the company. I'll go through with the engagement to Everett. But I have one condition. I want Tristan and Brielle ruined beyond recovery. Nothing and no one left."

On the day of our mate bond, Alpha Samuel decided we were going to be a childfree couple himself.
He held my hand and said affectionately, “No kids. I only want you.”
However, he came home with a pup in his arms later.
He claimed a friend had died, leaving the child alone, and asked us to take him in “just for a while.”
I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t demand answers. I didn’t even ask twice.
I kept cooking and cleaning, swallowed the unease and told myself to trust him.
Until that night, when I asked him where my dog had gone.
He didn’t answer. He set a bowl of dog meat soup in front of me instead.
He said my spirit dog could hurt the pup. But the spirit dog could sense bloodline, its growl wasn’t for that pup. It was for the lie he’d been hiding for three years.
At that moment, I finally understood: the pup he called “alone in the world” carried the exact same blood as him.
So our agreement was a lie and the so called childfree was an excuse.
And he’d already arranged what my ending was like when the day I agreed to bond with him.

Stacy was set up a one-night stand business with a stranger man to get the medical treatment fee to save her mother. That night took her virginity and got her pregnant. Stacy never touched her husband, until one day she found her crippled husband Harry was involved with another woman. The woman met her and recognized that she was the one that she set up for that one-night stand. When she knew Stacy was pregnant with Harry's child, she tried to kill her and her baby with every means she could. But Stacy didn't know that man who slept with her that night was her husband, nor did Harry know the baby was his, until one day...

Claudia," Travis called but she began to place little kisses on his back. She trudged to his front before shoving her lips over his hungrily and roughly. Firstly he didn't give in but soon, Travis began to kiss her with intensity too. 
Travis began to nibble her neck as Claudia's breath hitched beneath her throat making her breath come out in puffs. Soon they began to kiss again until they got into an empty room.
Travis pushed her to the wall as they deepened the kiss. They eagerly started to remove one another's clothing. Claudia was done as she quickly unhooked Travis's button. 
They fell to the bed as Travis began to ponder his member deeply into another woman vagina as the moans and groans of their ecstasy filled the air.

"Abram, please give me the ring, please" tears streamed down from her cheeks as she begged in front of her husband, naked precisely.
A cruel chuckle escaped from his mouth and she peered at him with her terrified tearful gaze.
He stared at her with a sadistic smirk "Crawl to me". She was drowning in guilt, because she killed her own sister.
He was burning in fire for revenge, already thinking of ways to destroy her.
A marriage of hatred and atonement, one dreadful night that changes everything for two withering hearts. There will be love and betrayal.
In this saga of never-ending hate and love, will they survive each other? "Explicit Dark 18+ Content - Read At Your Own Risk."

After college, Lucas pursued me relentlessly.

He was the CEO of the Blackwood Group — a man whose wealth and power eclipsed ninety-nine percent of the world.

He was gentle. Romantic. Attentive. I fell for him fast.

But a year into our marriage, I began to notice something — a pattern.

Lucas's sexual appetite was intense — he wanted me almost every night. Yet every single month, he arranged a solo trip to send me away. I told myself it was his way of spoiling me.

Then a message arrived from someone called Sweet An.

Do you really know your husband?

From that day on, my life filled with shadows.

I suspected my husband of having an affair.

When Lucas and I made love, something felt wrong — his body too large, too much, like something I couldn't explain.

I heard sounds during sex — animal sounds, like something feral had crawled into bed with us.

My best friend Mia said: "There are men sick enough to let dogs fuck their wives."

The family doctor, Daisy, told me: "You could never stay by Lucas's side forever. Your background doesn't make you worthy of being his wife. Do you understand?"

I went looking for whoever had been tearing my marriage apart. I fought to win my husband back.

But the deeper I searched, the larger the secret grew — something far darker hiding beneath this supposed betrayal.

Does Lucas truly love me?

And why, out of everyone in the world, did he choose to marry me?