First-Person POV Urban 網路小說與 Divorce 故事

​The Price of Peace is the final showdown and book three for the No Regrets crew, where the masks come off and the bills finally come due. Shane O’Brien is done playing house. He’s been living his life like a "glorified roommate" with his wife, Isla, ever since she broke their vows with her best friend's husband, but now the cold war is turning hot. While Shane finds a temporary sanctuary with Maya Cruz, Isla is weaponizing their children trying to save a marriage that might already be lost, but will she realize this too late, or burn the whole house down. Speaking of Maya, she has a few secrets of her own, one that involves Mayor Rogers and a scandal that could level the city. ​In the courtroom, Crandon Morgan is fighting to keep his name clean after a very public mental meltdown. He’s looking for a comeback, but he finds a distraction in Tempest Summers, a new law junior associate with a haunted past and a hunger for a kind of justice the law books don’t cover. ​Meanwhile, Kole Michaels is trapped in a different kind of nightmare. A past mistake named Akeisha is using a legal loophole to pin a child named Urmagisty on him. With his relationship with a different Keisha on the line and his daughter Mabel watching, Kole has to prove he’s being set up before the lie becomes his life. ​In this game, peace isn't free, you have to pay for it in blood, truth, or with everything you own.

"I spent three years being his 'used rag.' Now, I’m the one cleaning up his empire, starting with the trash." For three years, Shay Falcone lived for her husband, Massimo. She worked twelve-hour shifts behind the scenes, skipping meals and sleep to ensure his company became a billion-dollar legend. She was his ghostwriter, his secret strategist, and his most loyal soldier. She thought her reward would be the child growing inside her. But on the night of the Billionaire Launch, Massimo didn't give her a thank you. He gave her a death sentence. "You're a used rag, Shay," he sneered in front of the world's cameras. "A servant I don't need to pay. Meet my real wife, Elena." One shove from his bodyguards sent Shay spiraling into a stone fountain. As Massimo walked away to celebrate his wealth, Shay lay in a pool of blood, feeling the heartbeat of her child stop forever. Two years later, the rag is gone. The Ice Queen has arrived. When Massimo’s empire begins to crumble, he begs for a meeting with the untouchable Alessia Valois. He expects a savior; instead, he finds the wife he killed. "Shay?" Massimo gasps, reaching for her. "I... I’ve realized my mistake. Please, I still love you." Alessia doesn't even look up from her glass of vintage scotch. She steps over his hand as if he were a stain on the carpet. "I’m sorry, Mr. Falcone," she purrs, her voice cold enough to freeze his soul. "The woman who loved you died in a fountain. I’m just here to collect the debt."

"I gave him a crown. He gave me a prison cell." Isabella was the ghostwriter of the Rossi dynasty. She was the brain, the backbone, and the secret weapon. She sacrificed her name, her pride, and her light to make Antonio Rossi a God among men. Her reward? A public arrest. A framed conviction. And a daughter who was brainwashed into calling her a monster. While Isabella rotted in a maximum-security cell, Antonio was busy planning the 'Wedding of the Century' with the woman who helped him destroy her. They took her freedom, her child, and her dignity. But they made one fatal mistake: They let her live. Five years come and pass in a blur nobody expects.Isabella isn't the soft, sacrificial wife anymore. She is a woman with a heart of ice and a bank account that rivals the devil’s. Antonio thinks he’s at the peak of his power. He doesn't realize that the woman he discarded is back and she’s not looking for an apology. She’s looking for blood.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.