Counter Attack Reviews

I did not get pregnant in the five years that I was married to Julian Gunter. He claimed that there was something wrong with his body and asked me not to leave him. But one day, I was sent to the hospital because of a stomach ache and continuous bleeding. A nurse came in and gave me an injection. She muttered impatiently, “Can’t you hold yourself back? You’re pregnant, but you had such vigorous love making. It serves you right that you lost your baby.” I endured the pain and walked out. “Mr. Gunter wanted Mrs. Gunter to have a permanent contraceptive injection after her fifth miscarriage. Don’t worry. Mr. Gunter has a way around it.” “The heir of Gunter Group can only be Mr. Jack Gunter.” Jack was the son of Julian’s sister-in-law.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

I find out about my husband's affair by looking at his social media profile picture. The other woman is rich and powerful—she hits me in public and makes me lose my job. She even makes it so that I can never get a job in the same field again! I pretend to give in. In truth, I'm biding my time and slowly exacting my revenge!

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

When I opened my eyes again, I was pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the skyscraper by my stepbrother, Rocco. The man I had been infatuated with for a decade. He panted, his hot lips and tongue trailing along my collarbone as he murmured, "Don't go." In my past life, on the night I received my acceptance letter from London Business School, Rocco got blind drunk. Late that night, I gave in to his pleas for me to stay. I willingly gave myself to him. After a debauched night, his cherished fiancée, Clara, caught me walking out of his room the next morning, my clothes in disarray. She ran out in tears, her parting words ringing in the air, "I'll let you have each other." A month after she disappeared, the family search party found her engagement ring at the edge of a cliff. At the bottom of the cliff lay mangled remains, battered by the waves until they were unrecognizable. Rocco clutched that ring and didn't sleep all night. On the surface, he acted as if nothing had happened, even arranging a trip for me to Sicily, telling me to go and relax. The night I landed, I was kidnapped by assassins from a rival family. I screamed for him to pay the ransom, only to hear him give the order himself over the phone: "Don't make her death a quick one. The Costello princess? She's nothing but a damn liability. Torture her. Break every bone in her body. " "This is what she owes Clara." You like playing games, Rocco. But in this life, I refuse to play along.

For our third anniversary, my boyfriend claimed he wanted to 'broaden my horizons'. However, he was just waiting for me to step into the restroom from the moment we arrived. He immediately shredded my passport and every piece of identification I owned. Before I could even comprehend what he had done, he dragged me into an underground casino. He strutted in like he belonged there, greeting everyone along the way. "This one's premium, fresh from studying abroad!" I blinked at the massive men closing in on me. The black rose tattoos on their arms… They looked like the insignias of the Lyon family, the mafia syndicate led by my ex-fiancé, who was also their newly crowned Godfather. He once loved me obsessively, pursued me for eight years, and nearly forced me into marriage under the weight of his family's power. It took everything I had to escape that life back then. What just happened? One vacation, and I somehow landed right back into their hands?

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

At the pack's anniversary dinner party, the Alpha, Matt White, told us to write down the gifts we wanted. He would make sure every request was fulfilled. When it was my turn, the newly arrived intern suddenly snatched the paper and pen out of my hands. "Mr. White works so hard managing the pack. We can't let him spend money on us! You shouldn't write down your dream gift," she said. I ignored her, grabbed the list back, and calmly wrote down one item: a washing machine. Peyton immediately flew into a rage and splashed the champagne on the table straight onto me. "I told you not to write anything down! As a Beta, how can you be so inconsiderate of Mr. White?" My coat was completely soaked, and I looked utterly disheveled. I couldn't hold back my anger anymore. I flung the list straight at her face without mercy. She instantly covered her face and screamed, "How dare you hit me! Do you know who my father is? He's the Alpha King! Even Mr. White has to be polite to him. I'll have you kicked out of the pack for laying a hand on me!" I froze. I was the Alpha King's biological niece. My uncle didn't even have a partner, so how would he have a grown daughter?

Just a moment ago, after nearly bleeding to death, I gave the Rossi family their heir. But my husband, Carter, the Rossi's underboss, let his confidante, Sofia, film me giving birth just because she said she was bored. She captured everything: me losing control of my body, my screams, my face twisted in agony. Afterward, she took screenshots, turned them into memes, and passed them around a private group chat for the family's inner circle. Through the door of my hospital room, I could hear Sofia's wild laughter. "Carter, this is the best entertainment all year. You always know just what I want." "But Sloane's going to throw a fit when she wakes up and sees it." The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. My eyelids were heavy, and through the haze, I heard Carter's usual, nonchalant tone. "She won't get really mad. You know Sloane. She always does what I tell her." "I'll just have to sweet-talk her a little. Besides, with the heir here now, she wouldn't leave me." My fingers, hidden beneath the silk sheets, clenched into a fist. My mind flooded with everything I had given up for him over the years. Carter had probably forgotten who made him the man who runs these streets. Since you love games so much, I'll play a real one with you. The day I walk away, you will all regret it.

In the third year of my engagement to Jack, he found himself a pureblooded, sharp-fanged huntress up in the Northern Territory. The night before my birthday, he brought her to me—just to call off the bond. He looked at me, cold and distant. “Bethel and I both live for the thrill of the night hunt. You're just a greenhouse wolf—soft and sheltered. You’ll never get what makes it all so addictive.” I asked, holding back the hurt, “Did it really have to be today?” He chuckled, “Did breaking a bond require a date on the calendar?” I nodded without arguing. But the next month, we ended up in the same Blood Moon Trial up north. What he didn’t know was—I tasted the rush of the hunt, the heat of blood, and got the champion long before he even came of age. Later, on his birthday, I sealed a life bond with another powerful wolf. He looked at me, red-eyed and hoarse, voice barely his, “Did it have to be today?” I smiled back, “Life bonds need good omens. The moon’s just right tonight.”