Counter Attack

After my family went bankrupt, I begged my fiancé Ryan to pump cash into our business. He didn't just refuse. He turned around and got engaged to someone else. When I was at the end of my rope, Ethan Brooks stepped up, tossing all his savings into my family's mess. Sadly, we missed our shot, and our company crashed. My parents couldn't handle it. They jumped off a building. Even so, I was thankful to Ethan and married him to pay him back. Three years later, at Lily Carter's birthday party, I overheard her talking to him. "You tanked the Harper family so I could win that bid. Won't Kelly blame you?" "For you, I'd give up everything. I'll just make it up to her." My blood ran cold as I realized our marriage was all a lie. The one he loved was Lily all along. I turned and left. If he was that hooked, I'd set him free.

On my wedding day with Jack Miller, he ran off with his first love As if to taunt me, he would send a photo of himself with her from every new destination they visited. I was getting a manicure and enjoying imported French pastries with my afternoon tea when I received their ninety-ninth photo. But after three years of absence, Jack suddenly returned. He pointed at my wedding photo with someone else and shouted, “How dare you fool around with another man while I was gone!" I couldn't help but laugh. "What other man? I've been married to my husband for three years now." "Jack, you didn't actually think I was waiting for you all this time, did you?"

When my best friend and I realized we had been reborn and traveled back several decades, we locked eyes, collapsed into each other's arms, and sobbed, shouting that we wanted to break off our engagements. The entire neighborhood whispered that we had lost our minds. But only we knew the truth. In our past lives, this was the day everything was sealed: she married a battalion commander, Ned Stark, and I became the wife of a high school teacher, Robbie Stark. My husband betrayed me. For the sake of that pretentious whore, Scarlett Wheaton, he stole my university admission letter and let her take my place on campus. The world mocked me as a failure, and Robbie stood by in silence. After we married, every time he touched me, he would immediately write another love letter to Scarlett—atoning for his supposed guilt. "Scarlett, even if I can't be with you in this life, my soul will always belong to you alone." Even my own child despised me, calling me an ignorant village woman, urging me again and again to divorce so that his father could be with his "true love," Scarlett. And my best friend, Rachel Croft—born the daughter of a factory director—was tricked by her husband, Ned, under the pretense of buying a house. He drained her savings and her wages for twenty long years. It wasn't until she fell gravely ill and went to sell the house that she discovered the deed he had given her was a forgery. The real house—the one paid in full—was in Scarlett's name. One of Scarlett's dresses cost more than my friend's entire monthly salary. When Rachel begged to reclaim what rightfully belonged to her, she was met only with contempt from Ned and her child. "All you ever care about is money. You're nothing like Scarlett, who isn't materialistic at all. Your illness is retribution," Ned had said. "Exactly. Only someone as noble and kind as Scarlett deserves to be my mother!" her child had said. Rachel and I both spent our lives working ourselves to the bone, only to end with nothing—dying bitter and broken from the injustice. But this time, fate has given us another chance. I will go to university. Rachel will become a wealthy woman. This time, without us paving the way, those shameless men and that wretched woman think they can still live happily ever after? Dream on.

When my family was at its poorest, a wealthy family found me and claimed that I was their real daughter. The school heartthrob I crushed on? He was my fiancé all along! Still reeling from all these surprises, a mysterious message suddenly popped up in front of me. "This is where everything changes. The cannon fodder is taken home by the female lead's parents, forced to drop out of school, and then gets pregnant by her fiancé. In the end, everyone thinks she's a harbringer of misfortune, and she's beaten to death." My hand froze as I held the paternity test results. My mom's eyes filled with tears as she took the report from me. "My poor child, you've suffered enough all these years! Don't worry. Just come home with us and rest. You're our daughter now. The family business is enough for you to live comfortably forever. You don't even need to take the SAT if you don't want to." The school heartthrob lowered his head and whispered sensually into my ear, "Listen to me, Lucia. Studying is hard. I'll take care of you from now on."

“Do you take this woman to be your wife? For richer or poorer, in sickness and health, will you remain faithful to her for the rest of your life?” I looked at Bridget with deep affection and was just about to speak. “Wait!” shouted someone urgently. I turned around in confusion and looked toward the audience. There stood a man holding a baby in his arms. He said pleadingly, “Bridget, our child is hungry… could we pause the wedding for a moment?” Hearing this, everyone erupted in an uproar. It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me. Only then did I realize that Bridget had a child with another man. Bridget hurried off the stage, then turned to me coldly and said, “I only agreed to marry you out of obligation. But the moment Vernon appeared, I knew it. There’s no one else I want to marry but him.” So, she took off the ring and dragged the man away without looking back. I stood alone at the end of the aisle and clutched the undelivered ring in my hand, as a flood of bitterness crashed through every corner of my heart.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

As my due date approached, a massive discrepancy surfaced in the Galante family's arms accounts. The leadership made a swift decision. They sent me, Sophia Vitale, the Don's wife, the woman everyone claimed had nothing better to do, to personally inspect the armory and verify the inventory. I believed it was a routine check. I never imagined my husband's godsister, Monica Leone, would use it as cover to blow up the entire armory. The explosion was deafening. Fire ripped through the sky. Concrete collapsed around me, crushing my body as a searing pain tore through my abdomen. I did not call my husband on his highest-priority private line. Instead, I sent a distress signal to my father. In my previous life, the moment the explosion occurred, I had used that same priority channel to call my husband. The child had survived. Monica had been obliterated in the blast. My husband had claimed he did not blame me. He had said Monica was an outsider and that an heir mattered more. He had spared no expense, hiring elite obstetric specialists to monitor me day and night. He had told me to stay calm and wait for delivery. Then, on the day I went into labor, he personally locked me and the baby inside an abandoned warehouse drenched in gasoline and burned us alive. "If you hadn't deliberately delayed, she wouldn't have died. Do you really think playing the innocent victim could fool me? Dream on," he said. "You like playing with fire so much? Fine. I'll let you experience her despair yourself." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the armory, at the exact moment of the explosion.

I’m a werewolf, eight months pregnant with my vampire mate's hybrid child. When the contractions hit, my vampire mate, Justin, locked me in an ice coffin carved with runes meant to suppress childbirth. I screamed. I begged him. He just said, "Wait." But this was all for his childhood sweetheart. Isolde. The pureblood vampire had used dark blood magic to carry his pure-blood heir without having sex. The first vampire child born in a millennium would receive the Progenitor's ultimate blessing. It would purify the bloodline. It would break a curse generations in the making. "That honor belongs to Isolde's child," Justin said, his voice pure ice. "You already have my love, Gracie. This coffin just ensures you give birth after her." The pain of the contractions tore through me. I begged him to take me to the Bloodspring Sanctuary. He leaned in, his cold fingers gripping my chin. "Stop the act. I should have seen it sooner. You never loved me. You were an outcast in the werewolf world. You only wanted my power and my title." "You're so desperate you'd risk our child with your savage wolf tricks, just to ruin a pureblood's blessing... You're poison." Tears streamed down my face. I trembled, my voice shattering. "The baby's coming—I can't stop it. Please, I'll make a blood oath. I don't care about the blessing. I just want you!" He scoffed, a hint of pained betrayal in his eyes. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have run to my mother. You wouldn't have poisoned her mind against Isolde." "I'll be back after she receives the blessing. After all, the child you're carrying is mine, too." He stood guard outside the sanctuary where Isolde's ritual was taking place. He didn't give me another thought. Not until he saw the halo of the blessing crown Isolde. He ordered his blood thrall to release me. But the thrall's voice trembled with terror. "My lord… Lady Gracie and the child… their life signs… they're gone." In that instant, Justin’s world shattered.

After becoming pregnant, my mate Derek transformed from a notorious playboy into the perfect devoted partner. He dismissed all his lovers and stayed by my side constantly, attending to every detail of my care with meticulous attention. Everyone marveled at his dramatic change, claiming he had truly fallen in love and reformed because of me. Three days before I gave birth to our pup, I heard him on a phone call. "Derek, that orphaned omega your mate sponsored is looking for you again. The girl's devoted enough - still chasing after you after all these years." Derek scoffed coldly. "Don't mention her again. If it weren't for accumulating good karma for my unborn pup, I'd never spend another penny on any other she-wolf." But on the night before my delivery, after he received a message from that omega, he decisively abandoned me. "Sorry, Alpha Derek. My bone marrow compatibility test failed. Thank you for sponsoring me all these years. I'm sorry that I can't accompany you anymore." During the storm, he left me alone deep in the forest. I called him desperately through our mindlink, but he had blocked me completely - every attempt met with cold silence. The rogue wolves found me in my vulnerable state. Their attack was merciless, and my body, heavy with pregnancy, couldn't defend itself. The trauma was too much. When I woke up again in the healing center, my pup was gone. Derek gave me the mate bond severance agreement with red-rimmed eyes. "The girl is stubborn and gets upset whenever she hears your name. Once she can accept you, I'll mark you again." Finally heartbroken, I left him behind. Three years later, I was at an auction house with my sister-in-law, my belly round with pregnancy again, when violent sounds erupted behind us. Derek stared fixedly at my swollen belly, his whole body trembling. "Whose pup is in your belly?"

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.