Cheating

Five years after migrating abroad, my husband, Shawn Johnson, brings his true love and her son home. "Jill and Neil are new here. They'll be staying with us for a few days." He and I get into a huge fight over this. On my birthday, Shawn hands me a divorce agreement. He says, "Hurry up and sign it. Jill needs this country's citizenship, so let's divorce for show first." I frown, wanting to ask for more details. However, he points at me and calls me heartless. Shortly after, I see Jill's social media update. "Shawnie divorced his wife for me and Neil! We finally have a roof over our heads." I like the post and sign the divorce agreement. Then, I submit an application to my company to be transferred home.

When I was nine, I was caught in the blast while trying to save Joel Yorks, and the loud wave took away my hearing. Since then, I have had to wear hearing aids. Joel felt guilty. He insisted on having my hand in marriage. With his eyes welling up in tears, he swore, “Helen, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” However, when I turned eighteen… Everything changed because he wanted to please the prettiest girl in the school. He ripped off my hearing aid in front of her and our classmates and said in disdain, “I’ve had enough of you being a burden. I really wish you hadn’t survived that day when you were nine. It would have been better if you were dead.” I clutched my audiology report and stayed silent. When I got home, I quietly revised my college applications and formally broke the engagement along with my parents. Joel and I would go our separate ways after that. We would not need to meet again.

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.

On the eve of giving birth, my world turned into a nightmare. My husband’s sworn enemy broke into our home, seeking revenge. I was brutally cut open and my baby was ripped from me. Yet, I made the chilling choice not to call my husband for help. In my previous life, desperate and terrified, I begged him to return home. He abandoned a Valentine’s dinner with a scholarship student to rush back. That night, the student was preyed upon in a bar, leading to her tragic suicide. My husband’s wrath was unrelenting. Blaming me for her death, he locked me in a kennel, leaving me to be savaged to death. “This is the pain Wynne endured because of you. Now it’s your turn to suffer!” Given a second chance, I resolved to make a different choice. This time, I let him stay for his romantic Valentine’s evening with her. But when I returned home, he had spiraled into madness.

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.

Feeling overwhelmed by loneliness, I installed a one-way mirror in the bedroom of the apartment next door, which I specifically rent out to muscular men. One day, through the mirror on the wall, I watched my tenant with his girlfriend, caught up in their fiery passion. I couldn't help but be drawn to his strong physique and impressive size. One day, I pulled him into a small, dimly lit cubicle with me...

On my wedding day, the first love of my boyfriend appeared and declared she wanted my place at the altar. Sobbing theatrically, she pleaded, "Claire, I’m seriously ill. You have your whole life to be with Evan. Just let me have this wedding." And my boyfriend backed her up without hesitation. "Claire, you’re already pregnant with my child, and we’ve signed the marriage papers. You’ve got everything you need. This wedding? It doesn’t matter." The guests gawked, while I stood there as the punchline of their jokes. But instead of causing a scene, I kept my composure. That same day, I booked an abortion and looked his first love straight in the eye with a smile. "Sure, take the wedding, and take him too. He’s all yours."

In Kieran Chase's eyes, I was not his wife. I was a non-performing asset waiting to be liquidated. When I got sick and asked for help, he became impatient. He said, "This is a minor problem. You can handle it on your own. No need to tell anyone." When I broke down in tears, he reprimanded me. "Losing emotional control shows weakness. It exposes the fragility of our alliance. I'll have the PR team teach you emotional management." Even when I called for help after a car accident, he hung up. "Nothing about you is important enough to interrupt a transaction worth hundreds of millions." I spent seven days in the ICU fighting for my life. On my first day home, I found Kieran leaning over another woman, his voice suddenly soft and coaxing as he convinced her to take her medicine. He opened his mouth to explain. I smiled bitterly and handed him the papers I'd prepared long ago. My tone mirrored his perfectly. "Mr. Chase, regarding our marriage project, the return on investment is unacceptably low after comprehensive evaluation. I'm formally proposing we terminate our cooperation. "Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it."

My boyfriend refuses to accompany me to the airport to pick my mother up, but he later rams into my car from behind in my new Maybach. He looks at my secondhand car and wraps an arm around the young woman beside him, who looks frightened. He says, "It's just a rusty old Volkswagen Beetle! So what if I've crashed into it? I can afford to pay for the damages!" The crowd praises him for being handsome and rich. With his back to them, he warns, "This is the woman my mom wants me to date. I'm just playing along for her sake. Don't make things embarrassing for me." I nod understandingly and tell the young woman, "Since you like collecting trash so much, you can have both him and the car. I'll have my lawyer send you the bill." Now, my boyfriend panics. He looks devastated as he hangs around outside my company all day, begging me to give him another chance.

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.