What Happened To Dantdm's Wife

"Bhai… you can't act aggressive here. You love her and want to marry her. But she doesn't and you need to understand this. She doesn't even know you are the same man she used to talk with before", Sammy tries to reasonify. "Then what do you want me to do, huh? What should I do? Should I just leave from here and wait till the day she would be ready fully. It's been a goddamn fucking 2 years I'm looking for her. And now that I finally found her, she declines to marry me just like that", he says, seething. "But she doesn't know you are the one. She knows you as a guy fixed by her and our parents and even before seeing her you knew the same. Then why be angry with her", he says in a calmed tone making him agree. "Fine then. Let's wait and watch till she says yes because I-Am-Not-Going-Anywhere-From-Here. She has to marry me today or whatever the date mom decides", he says and fixes Sammy's shirt with a big smile. "But.. bhai..", he stops as Karan shows his palm to him. Crazy, He has lost it!!, he mutters internally looking at Karan. ************* Dia is an independent girl whose career was her first priority and wishes to never fall in love. While Karan the cold hearted dominant guy falls for her gradually and tries to make her his. He didn't want her for his one time lust, but for the rest of his life. He wanted her to be with her always and entitle her as his 'Wife'.  But what he didn't know was the upcoming storm which was ready to destroy his marriage. Will he be able to save his married life? Or will lose her till the end?

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

Three years after my wife's and daughter's deaths, they came back from the dead. Turns out, my wife hadn't died at all. She'd faked it and married the son of the richest man in Notingdun City. Ever since then, she'd stepped into the glamorous life of a wealthy socialite. When I uncovered the truth, the shock hit me like a bolt of lightning. I confronted her face-to-face. She didn't even flinch. Instead, she sneered, "You think a penniless man like you deserves to be my husband? I've remarried and taken on a new identity. Stay out of my life, or don't blame me for what happens next." Her words cut deep. Even our daughter turned her back on me. Crushed, I let go for good. But not long after, she came back regretful and begged me to remember the vows we made on our wedding day: to never leave, never forsake. I looked at her and laughed coldly. "Yes, I did make that promise once. But sadly, my wife died three years ago."

I'd been assigned overseas for three months, but I wrapped up my work ahead of schedule and flew home early to spend New Year's Eve with my wife. While waiting for a ride, I scrolled through TikTok and came across a video captioned: [Marrying the one you love feels like winning a war.] Then the scene shifted, and my world tilted. The bride slung over the groom's shoulder… was my wife. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But then I spotted familiar faces—her relatives, unmistakable in the crowd. I didn't hesitate. I checked the hotel location tagged in the video and shoved my phone toward the taxi driver. "Change the route. Take me here," I said. "I'm going to catch them in the act."

After my rebirth, I no longer stop my husband, Don Dante Moretti, from taking care of his dead older brother's widow and daughter, Sofia Bianchi and Lucia Moretti. I spent my entire life hoping that he would spare me a glance, after all. Only when I was hugging my son, Leone Moretti's icy corpse while dying in the snow, did I realize just how wrong I'd been. Once I'm reborn, I visit the law firm decisively and turn in my appeal for divorce. "I request to file a divorce with Dante Moretti. I'd like to terminate Leone's and my original identities." A few days later, Leone and I will disappear from Dante's life. Since he wants to stay with Sofia and Lucia, I'll grant his wish.

When my wife, Rebecca Walsh, misses my chemotherapy session for the 99th time, I come across a post on social media. "I won my lover's heart with a kidney. She will surely love me to death, right?" The attached photo shows a couple kissing on a street in Targon. The woman has a small heart-shaped scar on her neck. What a coincidence—it is exactly the same as Rebecca's. The woman who nearly dies for me falls in love with someone else so easily. The comments below are full of encouragement from strangers. "Man, you're so brave. Wishing you everlasting love." "If I were the woman, I would love you to death." I leave a comment too. "I hope you are together until you are in the depths of hell, you cheating pair. As for me, the husband, I will step aside to make way for you." One minute later, the post disappears. It doesn't matter. I post on my own account. I write, "After I spent three years battling cancer, my wife fell in love with the man who's supposed to be the kidney donor." The attached images are our marriage certificate and the same photo of them kissing from earlier.