Cheating Gf

Before the wedding, my fiancé, Alpha Jay, stood in front of me. Hesitation flickered in his eyes, but so did hope. “Can you give me a month?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. A month. Time to see if he could patch things up with Linda Manwaring—his ex-girlfriend. His fated mate. “If it works out,” he continued, the words deliberate, like he was convincing himself as much as me, “then it’s the Moon Goddess’s blessing. But if it doesn’t… I’ll come back. I’ll marry you. And I’ll leave her behind—forever.” He meant it. He truly believed this was the honorable thing to do. I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. Instead, I let a small, knowing smile tug at my lips. “Go ahead,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Give it a try. Life’s too short for regrets, right?” Relief broke over his face like a wave, as though I’d just untangled him from a chain he hadn’t known how to break. That night, he drove off, lighter than I’d seen him in months. Meanwhile, I packed my bags in silence. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Once I was done, I picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. “Mom,” I said, my voice even and unwavering. “The wedding’s off. I’m coming home to help you handle the Shadowfang Pack.”

When a hurricane comes, my husband, the leader of a rescue team, takes away everything we've stored at home so he can save his true love. I plead, "Leave some for me. I'm pregnant." He shakes me off. "How can you be so evil? The windows at Lottie's home have already been blown away. Don't tell me you're going to sit by and watch her die! She's not like you—you're not afraid of everything. The hurricane will be over soon, so you won't need any of this stuff." After that, he leaves without another look back. What he doesn't know is that there's also a crack in our home's windows.

At our seventh wedding anniversary party, Caleb Thorne shares a drink with his childhood sweetheart. My face darkens, and he publicly snaps at me in front of everyone. "It's just playful fun between friends—why are you so uptight? If I really had something going on with Emma, do you think you'd ever have become my wife?" He storms off in anger. That same night, his childhood sweetheart updates her social media banner to a photo of her holding hands with Caleb. In the past, I would've rushed to her house without a second thought, dragged Caleb out, and demanded to know if he ever truly loved me. But this time, I don't care anymore.

My father, the Beta of our pack, had sworn our bloodline to serve the Alpha King, Andrew Amadeus. By tradition, I was destined to be his mate. The night before our mating ceremony, I risked everything to save my stepsister, Emma Hughes, crossing into rogue territory—Wild Nest. I fought fiercely but was overpowered. At the ceremony, a cursed projection stone revealed my assault by the rogues. The pack recoiled in disgust. Andrew, seething with rage, rejected me and marked Emma instead, making her Luna Queen. To them, I was a disgrace, unworthy of an Alpha’s mark. As they called for my exile, Andrew’s younger brother, Anthony Amadeus, stepped forward. "Sophia Hughes, I have loved you in silence. By the name of the moon, I vow to be your mate for eternity." His words saved me. A year later, the healer told me I could finally carry a pup. Overjoyed, I rushed to find Anthony—only to overhear a chilling conversation. "Anthony, we helped the rogues infiltrate, lured Sophia to Wild Nest, and spread the video. She trusts you now… did we make a mistake?" He sighed. "For Emma to become Queen, Sophia had to be sacrificed. But it doesn’t matter—I’ll spend my life making it up to her." Betrayal cut deeper than any wound. My suffering had been planned. But if they thought I was broken, they had underestimated me. I would carve my own fate—with claws bared.

At my mother's funeral, I caught my husband passionately kissing a sales associate at the local department store. When I confronted him about it, he turned the tables and accused me of being paranoid and delusional. Later, I discovered she had been calling my husband "daddy" in their text messages. The betrayal left me emotionally numb, and I decided to step aside, giving them my blessing. What I did not expect was discovering that she was not just involved with my husband—she had been sleeping around with multiple men. When my husband finally learned the truth, he came crawling back to me with tears streaming down his face, begging for forgiveness. By then, I had already moved on with my life and wanted nothing to do with him.

The day I learned the truth about my husband, Duke Alistair, and his adopted sister, Liana, I left. I abandoned my title, my home, and returned to my father's palace. A year passed. Then came news of chaos in the duchy. The servant Alistair sent spoke with desperation, “Your Highness, the Duke and your son are lost to reason. If you don’t return, I fear they will burn everything to the ground.” I looked at the blood I'd coughed onto my handkerchief. I nodded. "Fine. I'll go back." The doctor had already given me my diagnosis. Consumption. I had only a month left to live. So I went back. And I played the part of the perfect duchess. I no longer demanded Alistair's loyalty. I even found him three new mistresses who looked just like Liana and sent them to his bed after he had sent her away for me. I no longer made Damian study the arts of statecraft and not forced him to master his courtly duties. Instead, I supported his ridiculous dream of joining the Expeditionary Force. I took the pain they gave me. I wrapped it in the "understanding" they always craved. And I served it back to them cold. But it drove Alistair mad. He threw out the mistresses. He crushed me in his arms. His kiss was a punishment. He bit my lip, drawing blood. "I sent Liana away! What more do you want from me? How can I earn your forgiveness?" Damian cried and clung to my arm. "I'll never call Aunt Liana 'gentle' or 'beautiful' again! Mother, please. Just stop." They didn't understand. I wasn't making a scene. I just wanted to live out my last month in peace. And then, I wanted to die.

On the day of the wedding, Galen Shaw forces me to crack walnuts with my bare hands for his so-called female buddy. My expression goes cold, and I refuse outright. "My hands are for holding a scalpel, not cracking walnuts for her!" He only chuckles and orders someone to hold me down. Then, he glues the walnuts to my palms himself. One by one, he slams them against the ground. "You cheated while studying medicine. Now that you've married me, forget about ever being a doctor again!" I grit my teeth through the pain. My fingers are aching, but I try to explain. "I went abroad to study medicine for you!" His so-called female buddy sneers in a shrill voice. "All that talk about the Shaw family's hereditary disease is nonsense! Galen has been perfectly healthy for over 20 years. Don't tell me you just want another excuse to cozy up with your precious senior?" The moment those words leave her lips, the faint thought of having someone bandage my hand disappears. A shadow crosses Galen's face. "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson!" He throws me into the basement and locks me there for three days. By the time I crawl out, my hands are completely ruined. Later, when Galen's hereditary disease finally surfaces, the doctor tries to comfort him. "This disease may be terminal, but there is still a way. Dr. Robinson has just returned from overseas. She's the only one in the world who can perform this surgery. "I hear that she's your wife."

On our wedding anniversary, my CEO husband, Michael Grant, invited me to watch the ocean with him. Tragically, a typhoon hit. I stood there in the raging wind and rain for over two hours, and he never showed up. In the end, all I got was a text that he was suddenly going on a business trip and couldn’t make it. Right after that, his intern, Nora Blake, posted a video on her social feed. It showed my usually pampered husband barefoot while helping fishermen haul crates of seafood. Her caption read: "Our hardworking CEO loves to get his hands dirty!" I laughed and commented: "Diligent and enduring—a true role model for us all." The company Slack channel instantly exploded. Everyone was betting on whether I’d finally blow up this time. Michael called me, his voice tight with fury, "Lauren West! What the heck did you mean by posting that comment? Are you trying to humiliate Nora in public? "It was a typhoon. I helped her family move some fish. What’s the big deal? You’re such a pampered little princess who has no idea how hard life really is. Delete that comment now. I’ll take you to the coast another day." Disgust churned in me. I replied, "Let a man who’s already rolled in the mud take me to the ocean? Forget it." Yes. Michael was now tainted, and I didn’t want him anymore.

My husband cheats on me with a university student when our daughter is two years old. My mother-in-law says I'm unworthy of being a woman. So, I back out, and he marries his mistress. When my former father-in-law cheats on my former mother-in-law, she gets a stroke. My ex-husband ends up behind bars, and his mistress abandons their child to be with another man. I stand before my former mother-in-law's bed. "Ask your new daughter-in-law to care for you!"

When I become pregnant with Ryan Hurst's child—at the same time his so-called first love, Kate Davis, do—he doesn't hesitate to claim hers, while ignoring mine. My child is thus branded an "illegitimate child". Ryan, the eldest son of the powerful Hurst financial empire, looks down at me with eyes like frost. "Kate is a real socialite. She can't have her reputation tainted by… this," he says coldly. It turns out that our seven years of marriage were nothing but a lie. The day my adopted family, the Kleimanns, forces me to get an abortion, Ryan is in another country, playing the doting partner at Kate's side while she gives birth. When we meet again, I will have already burned the bridge between us with my own hands. What none of them know is that behind Kate's polished smile lies a festering rot. And as for me, I am the sole heiress to an old and powerful aristocratic bloodline.