Who Is The Author Of Deliverance Of The Counterattack Through Pregnancy?

My husband, Carlton Stewart, looked me right in the eye and asked me to abort his unborn child. Then he asked for a divorce. That didn’t hurt me more than when I discovered the reason he asked me to abort his child. I felt so worthless and even more worthless when my husband threw me in jail after my sister accused me of a crime, we all knew I would never commit. Six months went down in speed and I was out of prison with six months pregnancy. Unconventionally, I met a young man who surprisingly was hell-bent on helping me take revenge on my ex-husband and all of them who’d hurt me.

In her first life, she died a virgin. In her second life, she became a villainess who was exiled to the border of the Kingdom with her newborn baby, based on a romantic novel that she had briefly read in her first life. She is grateful that her dream to become a mother of an adorable baby has come true, instead of dying a virgin! BUT when she thought she just needed to be exiled and live peacefully with her baby, she and her baby were brutally murdered by an unexpected person. Either destiny or a curse, the universe brings her back to life as Fuschia Mountravven, Crown Princess of the Drachentia Kingdom again! She is still stuck inside the world of a novel! "I don't care about revenge! I want my baby again, so, how do I get pregnant?! Who is the father of my baby, huh?! ”

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.

It wasn't the end of the world when I caught my husband cheating on me. That's when I found out who he really was. It wasn't just that his lover was blooming with his child. He had made her glow with love. His long-lost love. The woman's fate picked over me. I was told to run by everyone. Leave him alone. Start over. But I don’t run anymore. And I don’t break softly. Because my husband, the Alpha who swore he loved me, forgot who he married. He forgot about the family tree I never told him about. The one strong enough to destroy an entire pack. While he hides behind his fated mate, someone else steps into my life. A man with eyes like frozen smoke. A billionaire Alpha with darker feelings than my husband ever dared hold. A man who touches me like I’m a secret he’s been hungry for. I know he wants payback. I know he’s using me. Maybe I’m using him too. But then the woman leaves. My husband begins to lose everything his company, his pack, his mind and a furious truth about my own ancestry detonates beneath my feet. Worse? The woman carrying his child might not be the only one pregnant. Because fate has its own strange sense of humor… and my body has its own secret growing inside it. Now one man wants to claim me. One wants to ruin me. And one of them is hiding the most terrible truth of all. Tell me Should I stay the victim? Or become the storm none of them will survive? Because tonight, someone loses everything. And it sure as hell won’t be me.

Eight months into my pregnancy, my husband finally makes time from his police duties to go to a prenatal checkup with me for the first time. The moment we step into the hospital, his satellite-encrypted phone buzzes urgently. The caller ID flashes briefly, and just like that, the man who's always calm and collected panics. "Honey, it's a red alert. Another international fugitive just crossed the border. I… I'm sorry…" He's clearly anxious, yet his tone is firm, leaving no room for argument. After apologizing, he rushes off. As I watch his SUV speed out of sight, my fist clenches tightly, crumpling the prenatal checkup sheet. I flag down a cab, slide into the car, and swiftly instruct the driver, "Follow that car. Don't lose it." A Red Notice for a fugitive? What a joke. My father, who works at the National Security Agency, barely catches wind of a notice like that. Yet, somehow, a mere police chief who only assists with cases is suddenly tasked with catching a high-priority criminal. Fine, then. I can't wait to meet the superior who's given him such an urgent assignment.

My husband and I have been married for a decade. When I finally conceive for the first time in ten years, I realize my worst enemies are my family, who all want me dead. I've made a promise to return to the fertility shrine on the mountain and fulfill my vow if things work out, but my mother-in-law deliberately messes up the cable car tickets. In the process of hiking up the mountain for two hours, I lose my baby. In the hospital, I cry to my husband about all the vicious things his mother has done to me, but he kicks me in the stomach. "I had a vasectomy a long time ago. There's no way that bastard inside you is mine!" When he hands me the proof, I'm completely speechless. I break down in tears and run back to my parents' place. Not only do my parents hire a nanny to help take care of me, but they even move out of the house so I can rest in tranquility. When I'm eight months pregnant, I overhear them whispering in the bathroom. "We can never let Gina have the baby. I don't care if it kills her—we're all screwed if the child is born!" "Relax. The doctor already told me that Gina's got leukemia from all the formaldehyde in our new house. Even the baby's deformed!" Shocked, I burst into the bathroom to confront them, but the slippery floor causes me to fall hard. Instantly, blood snakes across the tiles. As I lie there in pain, I look up and see the cold, twisted smiles on my parents' faces before taking my last breath. I cannot fathom why my family wants me dead. I thought they'd been looking forward to his baby for a decade. When I open my eyes again, I return to the very day my mother-in-law insists on taking me to the mountain.