Caught Cheating

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

When my husband returned home to visit his parents, I noticed that he forgot to bring back the specialties he had bought. I ran after him, only to find him getting out of a car in a suit. His childhood friend stepped forward to welcome him. They held hands and smiled as they looked into each other’s eyes. They looked like a happy, newlywed couple. Only when my husband saw me standing not too far away did he hurriedly distance himself from his childhood friend. “Her mother’s critically ill, and her mother’s only wish is to see her get married. I’m just helping her.” I simply smiled. I pushed him right back to his childhood friend’s side and started cheering with everyone else. “When’s the baby coming?! I’ll be sure to wrap a nice gift!”

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

He was tricked into the Lone Wolf’s den and fell into a silver trap. The trap was filled with countless silver nails that burned into his wounds. He had a chance to survive—even if he would lose his Inner Wolf, at least his life could be saved, as long as he could be treated by the healer. But my Alpha husband, Anthony, the noble leader of the wolf pack, took the only healer away, giving him to his white moonlight son, Lucas, to treat his wounds. Meanwhile, our son, in the treatment room next door, could not heal from the silver-inflicted wounds. His blood flowed continuously until his golden wolf eyes lost all their light. I mentally reached out to Anthony, begging him to let me see our son one last time, but in the eyes of that high-and-mighty Alpha, there was nothing but disgust for our child. "Your son is truly ‘exceptional’—weak like a pup, yet he dared to enter the Lone Wolf’s den!" "Lucas nearly got pierced by a silver blade trying to save him! And what did your son do? He ran away without a second thought!" "I will not acknowledge such a cowardly bloodline! From this day on, his right to inherit is revoked!" After he spoke, he severed the mental link. My blood froze in my veins. In that moment, my dying cub shared his memories with me— I saw Lucas drive the silver nails into his own palm. I saw him turn and flee when the Lone Wolf attacked, while my child, despite trembling in pain, chose to fight the Lone Wolf to protect the pack. Until the very end, he fulfilled the duty of an Alpha’s son. And Anthony dares to say he is unworthy of the “Alpha bloodline”? That night, the moonlight over the wolf territory turned crimson. Anthony, you will soon realize— It wasn’t just my son’s flesh that was pierced by silver, but your prejudice as well! Your prejudice killed your own child.

The intern my husband brings home feeds our son hard liquor. My husband merely says I'm making a mountain out of a molehill when he finds out. Ultimately, our son dies. After his death, I leave the country to be with my parents. That's when my husband regrets everything.

I found out I was pregnant in the middle of a fight with my husband. How should I tell him without embarrassing myself too much? I decided to ask the Internet, and the netizens gave me a ton of advice based on their years of experience reading novels. One, run away with your unborn baby. Two, pretend to gag over lunch. Three, put his number into the abortion registration form… When he came to me in a frenzy, I belatedly realized, ‘Crap, I think I went too far!’

I was a soldier's wife. Less than two years into our marriage, I asked Lucian Summers for a divorce because I found a little handmade bracelet at home. It was not mine, and Lucian had never bought me cute little trinkets like this before. Lucian scoffed and said, "All because of that little thing?" I could not be bothered to explain this time, so I replied coldly, "Yeah. It's exactly because of that little thing."

It has been fifty-five days since my fiancé cut me off. I called off the wedding I'd waited eight long years for. All while he was caring for his childhood sweetheart, who was battling depression and seeking peace at a remote retreat. He even had the historic chapel—a local landmark called the Aethelred Sanctuary—closed to the public for six months because of her. And me? I was left to face the swarming reporters, hounded from one place to the next until I had nowhere left to hide—all because he disappeared without a word. Out of options, I went to the retreat to find him. But he turned me away, saying I would disturb the quiet and sanctity of the place. In the bitter cold of deep winter, I collapsed outside the gates, barely holding on. When I woke, I saw him—Jonathan—planting an entire garden of roses on the grounds, every bloom a declaration of love. Six months later, he finally left and returned home with his childhood sweetheart. The roses they had planted now filled what was supposed to be our wedding venue, from floor to ceiling. I watched them, cold and unmoved. What he didn't know was this—I was already engaged to someone else.

The day I give birth, I have to endure the pain of the scalpel cutting through my skin because I'm allergic to anesthesia. Marcus Lambert weeps by my side and says, "I don't care whether we have a girl or boy, sweetheart. We're not having any more children. You're all I want…" But later, he has an affair, even allowing his mistress to have his son. He indulges in her and allows her to torment my daughter, which I went through hell to bring into this world. Meanwhile, I keep Marcus' cancer a secret from everyone. Since he and his mistress are tormenting my child, I'll take his life. It's a fair trade, isn't it?

I was the girl Ian Sutherland, the underworld boss himself, personally picked to be a shield for his beloved. By the third year of our marriage, I'd been kidnapped by his enemies for the eighth time. When Ian came with his men to rescue me, the negotiation hadn't even lasted five minutes before the girl called him. "Ian, I lost a dare and have to kiss one of the guys here. But I want my first kiss to be yours. Can you come get me?" … The moment Ian left without a second thought, a knife plunged into my abdomen, and blood gushed out. His men handled it the same way they had the last seven times—paying off whoever they had to, then sending me to the hospital. In the ambulance, I heard someone wondering if I'd live long enough to see the day that girl could stand on her own. They burst out laughing, while I was the only one crying. My mission to save the underworld boss had failed, and I was about to be erased by the system. Ian, I wouldn't live to see that day.