Belly Inflation Story

I was born wolf-less. At the academy, Arabella made my life hell for it. By the time I graduated, my wolf finally awakened, gifting me powerful healing abilities. I thought the nightmare was finally over. I met my fated mate Alpha Tristan. He was powerful, gorgeous, and promised me the world. But the day I went to tell Tristan I was pregnant was the day I discovered his devastating lie. It was never Tristan in my bed. It was his twin brother, Ronan. The rogue Alpha who’d abandoned the pack years ago to slum it with humans. He used a scent-mimicker to crawl into my bed, to get me pregnant. It was all a twisted plot to humiliate me on my big day. They wanted revenge for Arabella, who lied and claimed I was the bully. They wanted to crush me. I stormed into the study to confront them. I told them I’d expose everything and demand an apology. Instead, they imprisoned me. They performed a dark ritual, siphoning my wolf into Arabella. They drained my life force and murdered my unborn pup. I died in agony. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day I found out I was pregnant. I clutched my belly, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. Those bastards were going to burn for what they did.

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

When my husband, Lucius Croft, and I were on a flight that was heading toward our honeymoon destination, his childhood friend, Belinda Todd, suddenly appeared before us while pregnant. She claimed that she had bought an economy-class ticket and that she wanted to go on a vacation with us. Not only did Lucius not reject Belinda, but he also wanted me to give my first-class ticket away to her. I turned his suggestion down. So, he helped Belinda occupy the first-class seat next to us. When I realized that an old lady was the owner of that particular seat, I did everything I could to convince Lucius to return the seat to her. Unexpectedly, Belinda was so mad that she got off the plane right away. On her way home, she got into an accident, which killed her and her unborn baby. Lucius attended her funeral calmly. But on the day I was supposed to go into labor, he tied me up in the car and staged a car accident on purpose. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you, Belinda never would've died! You deserve to make it up to her with your life!" I could only watch the car drive into the tree in total despair. All I saw was a huge explosion and tongues of flame around me before I completely lost consciousness. When I open my eyes again, I see Belinda standing before me with her belly jutting out. This time, I no longer stop them. What they don't know is that the inconspicuous-looking old lady is actually a member of the esteemed Howard family, also known as the global business powerhouse. She's also the grandmother of the richest man in the world, Ethan Howard.

I was Don Victor’s secret wife for five years, hidden away like a dirty little secret. He made me a promise. Give him an heir, and he’d show me to the world. I’d be the Donna everyone envied. But there was a catch. A lie. His doctor told me I was barren. Victor held me while I sobbed, kissing my face. "Baby, we can still do IVF. I want a child from you. Only you." So I took the pain. Five years. 999 needles. I was finally pregnant on Christmas Day. I ran to his office to share the news, only to find him buried deep inside another woman. Julia. A Mafia princess from another family. The betrayal hit me. I turned to leave, tears in my eyes, but then I heard a truth I couldn't escape. "Don't you worry, my princess. The baby in Maria's belly? It's ours. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel." My hand trembled. I backed away, silent. Then I made a call. A lawyer. "I don't care what it costs. I want a divorce from Don Victor."

He Rejected Marking Ceremony, I Upgraded Mate The very first thing I decided to do after being reborn was to reject the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate Ethan. In my previous life, when Ethan tried to postpone our ceremony for the thirty-second time, I threatened him with the sacred laws of the Moon Goddess. Ethan eventually caved. To pacify my rage, he promised that nothing would interrupt us again. But that was the night his Omega mistress Ivy died. From that moment on, Ethan hated me with every fiber of his being. When I told him I was pregnant, he drowned me in the freezing North Sea. "You and that abomination in your belly deserve to die for her," he spat as he held my head under the water. I died in despair. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the altar. Ethan looked impatient. "Selena, Ivy says her chest hurts.. We need to postpone the mark again." He expected me to beg. Instead, I unclasped the ceremonial collar and threw it in his face. "Go to her. I quit." Ethan sneered, "Stop acting. Without my scent, you’ll be back crawling on your knees in a week." He didn't know that an hour later, I was knocking on the door of his mortal enemy—Damon, the Tyrant of the North. When I posted a photo of the Winterborn Alpha’s ring on my finger with the caption "Upgrade my mate," Ethan went mad…

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

Dying from wolfsbane, I came back six months into carrying his pup. I went straight to a witch, begged for a potion to slow down the pup's growth. Choked it down. Then every day, I padded my belly with rabbit fur and kept up the act. In my first life, Emily and I went into labor on the same day. She popped out a perfect silver-white pup. Me? A white wolf giving birth to some scrappy mutt. James—Alpha of Ebonfang Pack—looked me dead in the eye and swore I betrayed him. I begged him to test the pup's blood. He did. Results came back: father was from an enemy pack. He called me a traitor, said I slept with the enemy, cut the bond, and threw me out. Five years rogue gutted my wolf. Then he showed up again. Guilt all over his face. "Emily got played by a Darkclaw wolf. She's just an omega—she wouldn't have survived going rogue. I had to swap the pups. Didn't you get the supplies I sent? Whatever, it's over. I'll take care of you now." Emily shot me a look full of venom and passed me a teapot. Didn't even get a word out before the wolfsbane kicked in. I died choking, eyes wide, body frozen. But now? I'm back. I know everything. Let's see how they plan to win this time.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”