Dumped The Scumpbag I Own

Her heart is broken at the altar by her lover, amidst the whispers and before the eyes of all. Cecily can't believe this is happening. Waves of shock move through her spine as she hears her lover echo those cold words of rejection. Bruno: " I can't marry you, Cecily. My heart belongs to someone else..." Then came the murmurs, louder this time, and a heartbroken bride struggling to digest this awkward reality, or better still, disappear completely... How could this be? We were just fine a few hours ago, promising each other forever over the phone and countless times in private. Has her lover been swapped or had a total transformation into a stranger she could barely recognize?

Angelina Winterbourne vowed her union with Alpha Nathaniel Byrne would be eternal. It lasted just long enough to cost her everything—most cruelly, her daughter. When dawn raids left Angelina and Iona bleeding out, Nathaniel chose them again, his dearest friend, her golden son. Survival became her rebellion. Now, divorced and disgraced, Angelina has returned to the Black Widow Pack—and to Alpha Malcolm’s audacious offer, redeem her shattered legacy by revolutionising their famine-ravaged farmlands. But as whispers of sabotage spread, Angelina must decide—will she rebuild the soil, or scorch the lies that poisoned her life?

I should’ve known better than to fall for Drake Peterson— my boss, my secret, my addiction, and the only man who could ruin me with a whisper. For two forbidden years, I lived a life no one knew about. By day, I was his perfect secretary. By night, I was the woman he kept hidden in his arms, tangled in his sheets, and locked behind a contract that said I would never expect more. I lied. To him. To myself. To the shattered girl staring back at me every morning. Because I did fall for him—hopelessly, stupidly, completely. And then he destroyed me. With one cold conversation, he terminated our arrangement, handed me a monstrous payout, and told me to walk away like I meant nothing. No explanation. No softness. Just an order: “This is the end, Sabrina.” So I erased him. Deleted my social media. Vanished from New York. And used the money he gave me to build something new— Mendoza Luxe, the jewelry empire that turned me into the woman he never thought I could become. I told myself I was over him. Until the day I ran into an old coworker… and learned the truth I was never meant to hear: Drake is bankrupt. He never married his fiancée. And everything he threw away—including me— he did to protect my life. Now the man who once owned every breath I took is falling from the top… and fate is dragging us back into the same fire that burned us alive. Old desire doesn’t fade. Old wounds don’t heal. Old enemies don’t forget. I survived Drake Peterson once. The question is— can we survive the truth that tore us apart?

When my wife's childhood friend's depression flared up again, she handed me divorce papers. I signed them without a fuss and told her I was leaving the country. She looked surprised, then seemed to figure it out. "So you're finally behaving? Realized your little tantrums won't work, so now you're trying something new to get me back? Fine. Go abroad. Stay out of Asher's sight so you don't trigger him. When he gets better, I'll come get you." I slipped off my wedding ring and handed it to her. My gaze fell to the jagged scar on my wrist. "No need," I said. "Let's just let each other go. Stop holding on."

After the breakup, my ex mocked me and called me a coward scavenging for scraps, then lured me to her new lover's winery just to humiliate me in front of everyone. Later, she accidentally shattered a bottle of priceless red wine and tried to pin the blame on me. What she didn't know was… the winery belonged to my family.

I've been married to my wife, Stacy Howard, for 12 years now. She doesn't let me sleep with her unless it's on the 5th or 20th of the month. I thought she was just uninterested in physical intimacy. That is, until I accidentally witness her walking together with her first love, Devin Fisher, on the street on Thanksgiving Day. Stacy, who's always cold and aloof to me, is actually smiling softly at Devin. Our daughter, Tammy Gilbert, tags along with them as well. She holds Devin's hand while calling him "daddy" in the sweetest tone ever. Instead of demanding answers from Stacy, I turn around and head home. There, I dig out the divorce agreement that I've already prepared in advance.