How Does 'Swapped The Babies From My Besties' End?

5 years ago: “I’m pregnant,” I stated. “It’s not my baby. You must have gotten pregnant by someone else. Abort it,” Alpha Baxter hissed. “Why would I make a baby with an omega like you? My beta mate will give me an heir,” Alpha Graham scoffed, his eyes cold. “And even if it is mine, give it up for adoption. I don’t want him calling me daddy,” Alpha Elgin sneered, wrinkling his nose. 5 Years Later: “Please! Let me be a part of my baby’s life,” Alpha Baxter pleaded, his voice breaking. “My mate can’t conceive. I want my child to know me and to call me father.” Alpha Graham requested. “I would hate for my baby to call someone else daddy in front of me,” alpha Elgin whispered, choking back emotion. “Didn’t you say you wanted me to abort them? How can you claim them now?” I spat, locking eyes with them. .. Living as an omega was never easy for Madeline, but she survived with the support of her three alpha best friends. They protected her, cared for her, and made her feel valued, until they discovered she found them attractive, which changed everything. Desire took over, and they claimed her, only to cast her aside once they had what they wanted. When Madeline learned she was pregnant, she turned to them, only to be rejected and told to end the pregnancy. Betrayed and heartbroken, she fled the pack to protect herself and her unborn children. Years later, Madeline stands strong, raising three children who carry the DNA of the alphas who abandoned her. Now the alphas regret the choices they made, but Madeline knows one thing for certain—her children will never call them “daddy.”

After giving birth early, memories from a different life flooded into my mind. In these memories, the daughter I had worked so hard to bring into the world was switched with hers. After that, I was told that my daughter had a congenital heart condition. I worked hard to raise her for eighteen years. In the end, I sold off all my assets so that she could have a heart transplant. Meanwhile, I had collapsed from all my efforts to care for her. Left with no choice, I wanted to tell my “daughter” that I was leaving this world, but I overheard her talking with my best friend. “That fool still thinks I’m her daughter. I was the one who poisoned her! Mom, once she dies and you get rid of that pretender, we can finally be together again!” That was when I found out my daughter had been swapped out, and that I had been giving my all to the perpetrator. When I next opened my eyes, pain radiated from my belly, and a nurse said, “Miss Scott, we’ve just learned that your daughter has a congenital heart condition.”

My sister-in-law and I have always been close, and we happened to be pregnant at the same time. However, during a routine check-up, she was diagnosed with uterine fibroids. I urged her to have surgery as soon as possible, but she refused and instead claimed her sallow complexion was a sign she was carrying a "child of fortune." She then retreated to the countryside to rest and nurture her pregnancy. Nine months later, while I grieved the loss of my stillborn child, she came back from the countryside with a baby girl in her arms. Consumed by the suspicion that the child was rightfully mine, I demanded a DNA test. That same night, my own mother and brother conspired to take my life. After my death, I discovered it was all a conspiracy. My family had orchestrated everything to swap my child for hers. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the moment before I took her for that fateful check-up.

What do 26 years of friendship, plus 26 years of pent-up, sexual frustration, and one drunken, exciting, night on the beach get me? I just found out I'm pregnant with my best friend's baby... How the hell am I supposed to tell him that we're having a baby together? How will he react, and will he want this blessing just as much as I do? What's even worse is our parents have started to date each other... What does that mean for Cole and me?

I’ve always felt the child that I’ve cared for the past three years was not mine. My mother-in-law told me I was overthinking and was just tired. However, I remember it clearly. My child had a birthmark on their left arm.   Even my husband said it was nothing more than a dream I had after passing out during labor.   Still, I began to suspect that my in-laws swapped my child at birth.  

My best friend said she was just protecting me from bad men. So every time I started dating someone new, she would turn herself into his dream girl. She'd flirt, chase him, and seduce him until she ended up in his bed. And every time, she'd send me the photos. Always with the same cheerful caption: "Bestie! If I hadn't tested him, you'd be heartbroken again. Aren't I good to you?" I was tortured, broken, humiliated. Eventually, I cut her off completely and moved to another city. Then I met the man I thought was my true love—Liam. He was kind, devoted, and loving. I thought I could finally be happy. On my wedding day, I found Madison standing in my dressing room, disguised as my makeup artist. She smiled at me, just like she used to. "Don't worry, bestie," she whispered. "Let me test this one for you. Then you can marry him." She drugged me, then put on my wedding gown and got into bed with Liam. But I woke up in time. I burst into the room with our families. I caught them together. Later, I got pregnant. During labor, I hemorrhaged. Liam watched me bleed and refused to sign the emergency consent form. "Madison just wanted to give herself to me before our wedding—to fulfill her wish," he said coldly. "You humiliated her. You drove her to suicide. She died carrying my child." "You and the bastard in your belly deserve to die too." That was when I realized—the man I loved had already fallen for my best friend. I died in agony. My ashes were thrown into a ditch. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. On my wedding day. And Madison was standing right in front of me, pretending to be my makeup artist.