Novel & Cerita Baki Crying

I've been in a three-year relationship with Antonio Bianco, the successor of the Bianco family. Everyone knows very well how much he loves me. But everything has changed the moment Antonio's older brother passes away, leaving behind his newly-widowed wife, Rosetta Serra, who's also pregnant. Antonio heeds Augusto Bianco's last wish by taking great care of Rosetta. He even ditches me at the altar numerous times for her sake. On our 51st wedding, Antonio still ends up leaving with Rosetta, who keeps crying her heart out. I just gaze at the way Antonio scrambles to come up with a new excuse. I notice how skillfully the wedding planning company is cleaning up the wedding venue in advance. I also spot the flash of a provocative smile Rosetta has shown to me behind Antonio's back as she links arms with him. Suddenly, I feel like a total joke for being with such a man over the past three years. When the hotel manager gives me the bill, he asks casually, "When will the 52nd wedding be held, Ms. Marino? We can make the preparations in advance." "There's no need for a wedding anymore," I respond with a smile. "Even if a wedding is to be held, the groom won't be the same person anyway." After leaving the hotel, I dial the number of the person in charge of the International Medical Organization. "Hello, I'm Cecilia Marino. I'd like to accept your invitation to join your organization, and I can leave anytime soon."

My husband’s company went bankrupt, and his creditors quickly came over to threaten him. Then, of course, they asked me for the money. Milo Cardilo, my husband, was worried that they would hurt me, so he shielded me and said while crying, “Stella, the company owes ten million dollars. Let’s fake a divorce and split our assets. That way, I won’t drag you down with my debts. Trust me, honey. Once this is settled, we can get married again.” His sincerity and selflessness touched me. When the creditors came to drag him out of his company to beat him up again, I stepped forward. “I’m Stella York, and my father is the Don of the Rosa Family. Let my husband go, and I’ll give you the money.” But when I went downstairs to call my estranged father, I heard my husband talk to his creditors. “Don’t believe her. How could she possibly be the Principessa of the Rosa Family? She must be bluffing to stall for time. Make your act more convincing. Puncture all the fake blood bags I have on me! Once she signs the agreement to walk away with nothing, I’ll pay you ten times the acting fee!” My heart went cold. So, when it was time to sign the divorce agreement, I agreed without hesitation. Milo sighed in relief, but what he did not know was that he was going to pay the price for his deceit.

For five years, Elara Ashford was the perfect billionaire wife—gentle, loyal, and endlessly patient. She loved her husband quietly, standing behind him as he rose to the top of the business world. To Julian Ashford, the ruthless CEO of Ashford Group, his wife was nothing more than a convenient presence—someone who would never leave, never complain, and never matter. Until the night he publicly humiliates her and proves, beyond doubt, that she will always come second. Instead of begging or crying, Elara calmly asks for a divorce. Certain she will regret it, Julian signs without hesitation. But Elara doesn’t come back. She disappears—and when she returns, she is no longer the invisible woman he discarded. She is confident, radiant, and untouchable, drawing admiration from powerful men who now see her worth. That is when Julian’s world begins to unravel. Haunted by regret, consumed by obsession, and driven to desperation, the billionaire who once controlled everything finds himself losing sleep, sanity, and pride—all for the woman he cast aside. As Julian abandons his arrogance to chase the wife he never appreciated, Elara must decide whether a man who broke her so completely deserves a second chance. Especially when the truth finally emerges: She was never weak. She was always the one holding his empire together. Now the man who once looked down on her must face the most painful reality of all— losing her may be the one mistake he can never undo.

I had just left the hospital after undergoing a dilation and curettage procedure for uterine fibroids. On the bus, I happened to encounter a woman who was crying and claiming she had menstrual cramps and a terrible stomachache, asking me to give up my seat. But I refused. I never expected the woman to be the famous internet influencer, Bella Marsh. While I was completely unprepared, she started a livestream, and the next day, I was violently attacked online and pushed onto the trending searches. Netizens even dug up the record of my procedure at the hospital. “With a uterine wall that thin, it’s obvious she has had so many failed pregnancies.” “No wonder she was so shameless and refused to give up her seat—turns out she’s a despicable woman.” The so-called righteous netizens harassed me until I fell into depression, and even my boyfriend stepped forward to accuse me of being dirty and said he wanted to break up. Unable to endure the blow, I jumped from the rooftop, while the female influencer gained tens of millions of followers and began livestream selling, earning more money than she could count. Only after my death did I learn that the influencer had been my boyfriend’s childhood crush. To boost the popularity of her livestream, she and my boyfriend had deliberately staged the entire scene. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Bella asked me to give up my seat.

I had been on a business trip overseas for less than six months when I suddenly received a call from the hospital. "Mr. Jones, your wife is having a difficult labor. Should we proceed with a C-section or try to continue with a natural delivery?" The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I stood there, frozen. When I left, my wife had not shown any sign of pregnancy. How could she be giving birth less than six months later? I quickly dialed her number. The moment the call connected, I heard her cries of pain. "Honey, what's wrong?" From the other end of the line, I could hear a nurse urging her to push harder. However, my wife forced her voice to sound calm. "Sweetheart, I just slipped and fell a moment ago. It's nothing serious. You should keep focusing on your business trip. Don't worry about me." As I listened, the faint sound of a baby crying filtered through the phone. My grip tightened so hard around the phone that it nearly cracked. "Is that so? Then, get some rest," I said calmly. After hanging up, I immediately called my father, the richest man in the country. "Dad, Rebecca's cheating on me. She's in the delivery room right now, having another man's child. Stop all investments in the Harris family immediately. I want her thrown out with nothing to her name."

My husband had a severe addiction for physical intimacy. However, in the seven years of our marriage, he never touched me, not even once. To suppress his urges, he soaked himself in bone-chilling ice water every night. His arms were covered in needle marks from constant injections. It broke my heart to see him like that. I offered myself to him many times, but he insisted on simply giving me a restrained kiss on the forehead before saying, “Don’t be silly, Summer. I’m not like those animals. How could I ever bear to hurt you? For you, I’d gladly live the rest of my life in a platonic marriage.” This strange, almost obsessive restraint of his lasted seven years. Despite the numerous times he pushed himself far enough to end up hospitalized, he still refused to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a young woman named Anna Brandt came in for her ninth hymen restoration surgery. After the anesthetic was administered, her cheeks flushed red. As her mind grew hazy, she started crying weakly like a lost kitten. Looking at the love bites scattered across her body, I shook my head and assumed she was just another girl who had gone astray. That was until I heard her last tearful whisper. “John Shaw, you jerk.” My hand trembled and I nearly dropped the scalpel. Because my husband’s name also was John Shaw.

Devil’s own incarnation in sparkling designers. Zade Dalton Gomez is a man not to be trifled with, and Carla Meadows has always been aware of that, which was why she knew she was doomed the moment this man involved himself in her mess and forced her into a contract marriage with himself. Tycoon, big shot, and powerful with near-impossible connections, Zade was a conventionally attractive, highly sought after bachelor in the country. Carla, whose reputation in the country is completely ruined after going to prison in place of a man that ended up backstabbing her, has been deserted by everyone and is left to face her plight herself. She hoped for a miracle that would bring her out of this humiliating mess, and not a union with the devil himself, which is bound to leave her scorched in the end. Zade detests criminals. Zade loathed Carla. She and her ex-husband were responsible for a trauma of his, and he vowed to punish Carla while making use of her— to kill a handful of birds at once before discarding her. It’s just a contract marriage, but neither of them anticipated desire coming into play. A contract marriage born from raw hatred, a thirst for revenge, and punishment. What could go wrong? ~~~ Ex-husband showed up with divorce papers for me to sign. He thought I’d be crying, but I readily signed it with a smile. When he sighted me in the arms of his arch enemy, he instantly grew jealous and now, he wants me back. But, too bad for him, cause I’ve moved on from trash to diamonds!

"Did you really kiss the Alpha?" Gary asked me and turned to the man bathing in the darkness. "Is she the one you were telling me about?” "Yes," he coldly said and turned around, walking away. "Please," I begged, crying. "Alpha Asher, please. I'm sorry for what I did. I didn't mean to, please forgive me.” I begged, crying profusely and Gary looked at me, pity flickering in his eyes. "Please, Alpha. Let's help her. She could be useful to you one day,” he suggested and Alpha Asher stopped in his tracks. I almost shot Gary a dirty glare. What did he mean by useful? I didn't leave my pack to come here and serve another fucking Alpha! The Alpha I kissed at that! I was about to ask what he meant by useful but the pain in my leg reminded me of what was at stake. To serve him for a while and then be free, or to die and not be able to do anything again. "Useful?” Alpha Asher asked, breaking my thoughts. "Yes, yes. I'll do whatever you want. Just help me, please. I don't want to die." I begged. "Anything I want?” he asked again, smirking. ”What could this man be thinking of that's making him smirk?” I mumbled to myself, trying to distract myself from his attractive lips. ”Answer me, woman. Would you do anything I want?”

“You’re useless.” I lift my head, wrists aching where the rope bites into skin already numb from the cold. My father stands over me, his shadow long and sharp in the firelight spilling from the clearing behind him. I can hear the celebration. My sister’s laughter. The pack chanting her name. “I tried,” I say. My voice cracks, and I hate it for that alone. “I did everything you asked.” He scoffs. “Everything?” His gaze drags over me like I’m something rotten. “If you’d done anything right, your mother would still be alive.” My chest burns, each breath a knife. “She chose—” “She died because of you,” he snaps. “Because you were too weak to protect yourself. Too weak to be worth the trouble.” I swallow, tasting blood. “I’m your daughter.” “No,” he says coldly. “You’re a reminder of my failure.” He turns away, already done with me. “Be grateful I’m hiding you instead of killing you. An Alpha can’t afford dead weight.” The rope tightens as he knots it higher, out of reach. He doesn’t look back. Behind him, the pack howls in celebration. I lower my head and let the tears fall silently into the dirt because crying is the only thing they haven’t taken from me yet. But as the night deepens and the forest breathes around me, something else stirs—slow and patient. They call me useless. One day, they’ll choke on that word.

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."