Anniversary Quotes

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"

On our third mating anniversary, I was shocked to discover that my mate Ethan Rivers had been spending nights with his childhood sweetheart, and even the mating certificate he gave me was fake. When I confronted him about it, Ethan coldly accused me of being ungrateful. "I performed the mating ritual with Bella to help her deal with her family's pressure to mate. How can you be so selfish?" "It's not like I don't love you. It's just a mating certificate - why are you making such a big deal out of it? I was planning to perform the real ritual with you this year, but I never expected you to be so greedy. Aria, you really disappoint me." I blocked him completely, and he immediately took Bella on their honeymoon. Five years later, we reunited at an elite pack gathering. His pack was thriving, and beside him stood Bella Rose, adorned in jewels with a perfect smile. Seeing me crouched on the ground searching through cake scraps in the trash, he clicked his tongue impatiently. "Look what you've become after leaving me. You scorned the fake certificate back then, but now even if you threw yourself at me, nobody would want you!" "For old times' sake, if you kneel down and apologize to Bella, I might let you come back as our servant." I had no time to deal with him. My son had mischievously hidden my eighty-million-dollar mating ring in some cake, and I needed to find it quickly. Otherwise, when his father arrived, the little one would be in trouble again.

Three years ago, on the day I married Luca Moretti, he personally handed me a marriage contract with a fixed term of three years. His tone was casual, indifferent, as if he were discussing an ordinary business deal. "This marriage exists solely to serve the alliance of interests between the Morettis and the Vitales. Sign this agreement. After three years, the marriage will automatically dissolve. When that time comes, you can go and pursue your true love." I barely hesitated before signing. Ten years earlier, at an inter-family business gala, when I was ten and Luca was sixteen, I had already fallen hopelessly in love with him. What looked like a strategic alliance was, in truth, the outcome of my decade-long unrequited love. During the three years of our marriage, Luca was attentive and gentle toward me. Over time, I began to believe I was loved. I sank into that illusion, unable to pull myself out, forgetting entirely about the agreement. That illusion was shattered completely on the night of our third wedding anniversary. That evening, Luca arrived with Elena, who had just returned to New York, and attended what was supposed to be our third anniversary celebration together. She stood beside him with ease and composure, smoothly engaging with business partners. People praised her, saying she looked more like the Donna of the Moretti family. In that moment, even though Luca never mentioned the agreement again, I understood clearly that it was time for me to step aside. After breaking free from his control, crossing an ocean to rebuild myself, and becoming a brilliant leader in my industry, I would no longer wait for his love.

“I-I was in the shower then I got horny while thinking of you and started fingering myself until I came,” I said.  “I think I have become a nymphomaniac because of you, Donovan.” “Do you know what that is?” He chuckled, to which I nodded eagerly. “You are cute. Well, if you must know, buttercup,” He began, stroking my cheek. “I wasn't entirely pulling your legs that day. I want to fuck you, Emily. Ever since I got those pictures, I haven't stopped picturing you taking my cock in various positions.” “Really?” I croaked, arousal evident in my voice as I splayed my hands on his chest. + On their third anniversary, Emily Wright’s boyfriend coldly ends things between them. Heartbroken, she goes home, gets drunk, and takes lewd pictures of herself to feel better. By accident, she sends the pictures to the CEO of her company, Donovan Coleman. On discovering her mistake, she’s appalled but decides to put on a brave face. However, she’s further horrified to discover that Donovan is her ex’s brother, who unknown to her, was intrigued by her at first sight. An heated encounter with Donovan stirs up illicit desire within Emily that both confuses and excites her. A week later at a charity gala, they end up spending the night together. Throwing caution to the wind, Emily continues fooling around with Donovan. What happens when she falls in love with him? Will she end things before they spiral out of control, or will she choose pleasure over letting go?

“Your marriage is like a fairytale, exquisite dinner dates, designer gowns, a husband who made the world believe in love.” they said. She smiled, knowing everything was a lie. If only they knew that behind the diamonds, the laughter, and the perfect photographs were scars she still pretended not to see. Anne-Marie Duval was born into a world of luxury and riches — heiress to Duval Scents, Paris’s most coveted perfume empire. Married to her childhood love, Louis Trottier, Anne-Marie believed her husband was perfect until she discovered he was more of a demon than human. Desperate to save her marriage and father's name , she offers him everything: her heart, her possessions, even a child but that only worsened everything. On the night that was meant to celebrate two years of forced love and marriage, Anne-Marie’s world crumbles before her eyes. Heavily pregnant, she never expected her anniversary party to turn into a public humiliation. The man she loved calls her a slut and declares his new mistress before everyone. When she wakes up, it’s not her husband by her side but a stranger her father sent to protect her. And waiting for her are divorce papers, scandalous headlines, and the cruel reality that the man she once trusted has stripped her of everything—even the company her father left her. Now, broken but not defeated, Florence vows to reclaim her dignity, her freedom, and make Louis Trottier pay for everything he had done. He may have destroyed their marriage but she will decide how their story ends. Will she succeed in her revenge plan or will the turn out of a new love story distract her? Find out..

"Sign this. We're done." Aaliyah Monroe thought she’d found love with a rising billionaire, Henry Smith—until he blindsided her with divorce papers on their fourth anniversary, revealing her twin sister, Aurora, as his true love. Betrayed and cast out, Aaliyah drowns her fury in a nightclub, where she meets Orrin Hayes, a billionaire mogul who falls for her instantly. He offers her a deal– “Aaliyah, I’m smitten. You’re fire, and I want to burn. Marry me.” She froze as her heart tripped. “What?” “Not for love, not yet,” he said with his eyes glinting. “A deal. You want revenge on Henry and Aurora? I’ve got the power to crush them. Marry me, and I’m yours—my money, my connections, my everything. We’ll make them beg.” She stared, the whiskey clouded her head but not her judgment. The idea was insane, but it lit a spark. Henry’s face on that stage and Aurora’s smirk—they deserved to fall. And Orrin? He was a weapon, wrapped in charm and danger. “You’re serious?” she asked, testing him. “Dead serious.” He took her hand into his, gently. “I’m half in love with you already. Say yes, and we’ll shake the world.” She laughed, the sound was shaky but real. “You’re crazy. But… okay. Yes.” Aaliyah agreed. But there was one thing she was yet to inform this charming yet mischievous Billionaire suggesting marriage to her– she's carrying her ex husband’s child. Will she successfully use him to climb the ladder and get her revenge despite having a child for her ex-husband? Or will a second chance in love surface?

Our third wedding anniversary was coming up, but my wife, a programmer at a major tech company, suddenly claimed she had to work overtime to meet deadlines. She said she couldn't go on the trip we'd planned. That very afternoon, however, her intern posted a video on social media. My wife—the same woman who normally wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure—was holding a screwdriver, repairing an old flip phone. The caption read: [Having a programmer wife is the best. Even when Grandma's phone breaks, we don't need to pay for repairs.] I chuckled, liked the post, and commented: [Right up her alley.] Within minutes, the company group chat exploded. There were over ninety-nine unread messages speculating on when I'd finally snap. Not long after, my wife called. Her voice was ice-cold. "What was that comment supposed to mean? How is Shawn supposed to face anyone at work now? "His grandma's phone broke, so I fixed it. What's the problem? Your parents have always spoiled you. You can't possibly understand real hardship. "Delete the comment. I'll make it up to you over the New Year; we can take that trip then." The New Year? I'd already waited through two other major public holidays. I'd even taken special leave for this trip, and she still bailed. Now she was dangling empty promises again? I hung up on her. My leave ended around the same time as our divorce cooling-off period.

Even knowing that wailing at an Eravalen aristocratic funeral was considered disrespectful to the deceased, I let my husband's adopted sister make a scene anyway. In my previous life, my husband, Robert Baker, had a distant relative among the Eravalen aristocracy who passed away. A lawyer informed him that he stood to inherit the estate and invited him to attend the funeral. His adopted sister, Mia Carter, insisted on tagging along to see how the privileged few in another country lived. She wanted to rub shoulders with nobles and make herself look important, even planning to wail dramatically in front of everyone. I rushed to stop her. "Public mourning is taboo among Eravalen nobility. Forget inheriting anything. We'll all be thrown out!" Yet she burst into tears, accusing me of looking down on her and thinking she was not good enough to mingle with aristocrats. She stormed out and was killed by street thugs in a random attack. I thought Robert would fall apart, but he stayed silent through the entire funeral and collected his inheritance without a hitch. Six months later, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the snowy mountains for a photoshoot. The moment we reached the peak, he shoved me into a sleeping bag and tied it shut. "If you hadn't blown everything out of proportion, Mia never would've run off and gotten herself shot." He buried me alive in the snow. I froze to death, and he used that aristocratic fortune to become the CEO of a publicly traded company. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mia insisted on wailing at the funeral.

I leaned over her, brushing a kiss on her lips. “One last thing. Do you want me to gag you, or are you good?” She tilted her head, smirking. “What, are you worried my moans might be too loud for your neighbors?” I laughed outright. “Honestly? I don’t give a damn how loud you get. In fact, I want you to be as loud as you want. The louder, the better and that means, I’m doing a good job.” I winked, then moved past her, settling between her thighs. ***** In a marriage reduced to cold silence, Lena Marsh’s anniversary ends with an empty chair and a breaking point. Then Adrian Blackwood steps in, her billionaire boss’s dangerously seductive brother. His gaze strips her bare, promising to ruin her with slow, filthy touches that leave her trembling and soaked. One forbidden night, and she’s addicted to the way he claims her body like it’s his birthright. But obsession has eyes everywhere. Her boss watches with possessive hunger, his stare dark and unyielding, and he wants her locked away from everyone, especially his brother. And when her husband Noah finally wakes up, he fights dirty to reclaim what he ignored, his renewed passion bruising and desperate. Caught between three men who crave her in wildly different ways, a reborn husband, a reckless lover, and a controlling boss, Lena isn’t just tangled in lust. She’s the match. And when secrets ignite, she could burn their entire empire to the ground.

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.