Finny If He Had Been With Me

For three years, I was the perfect wife, silent, loyal, and invisible. Until the day my husband handed me divorce papers… to protect another woman. He thought I would beg. He thought I would break. He didn’t know I had already seen it coming. So I signed. And I left. What he doesn’t know is that I’m carrying his child. And I was never just the woman he married. When I return months later richer, colder, and standing beside the one man he can never defeat, the husband who discarded me finally realizes the truth. He didn’t lose me. He was never worthy of me.

She risked her life to save her husband. But when she opened her eyes… he had already left her behind. Her face was ruined. Her marriage was over. And the child she gave birth to… was not the one his family wanted. They thought her life was finished. They were wrong. Because the woman they cast aside… will return. Not as the abandoned wife— but as the nightmare that will make them regret everything.

I got into an elite college with my boyfriend, Philip Jewitt—and tossed my acceptance letter in the trash. His mom was dying. He stood in front of me, eyes red. "Stella, she doesn't have time... If she finds out I dropped out to pay for her treatment, it'll destroy her. Please. Help me. I swear I'll treat you right for the rest of my life." Philip got four perfect years on campus. I scraped by, working three jobs. I paid his tuition. Covered his mom's bills. After graduation, he needed startup money. I convinced my parents to mortgage our house. When his company went public, he proposed in front of everyone. I thought all those years finally meant something. But then he heard his one-sided love, Winnie Schell, died in a car crash. He got drunk and shoved me to the floor. "Why wasn't it you? If I didn't feel guilty about you, I would've married her." I clutched my stomach, pregnant, begging through tears. He sneered. "You owe Winnie everything. You really think you deserve my kid?" Then he kicked me—hard—right in the stomach. Pain ripped through me. Blood pooled between my legs. My vision went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—one hour before the college application deadline.

My ex, Jason Buckley—the guy I dumped five years ago—still sent tiny cash transfers to check if I existed. I never responded. This time, I tapped accept by accident. A second later, he lost it. "Wow, quick reflexes. What guy's been keeping you busy these past five years? Made you this cheap? Knew you couldn't get over me. "You took my 'let's fix this' gift, so we're signing marriage papers tomorrow. "My new dad's loaded—the richest in Seavora—and he can't wait to see me married." I just stared at the one-dollar payment on my screen and left him on read. The next day, he showed up at my place in Seavora City with his mom, parked right in the doorway. "This is gonna be our house, right? If you're not just after my family's money, transfer it into my name first." Yeah. He'd officially lost it. We broke up five years ago. My son's three. And if he's the heir to the richest man... what does that make my husband?

On the day of our wedding, my fiancé, Shawn Chandler, insisted that I wear a bridesmaid’s dress while having a million-dollar wedding gown custom-made for his childhood sweetheart. “Jessica said she wants to fulfill her dream of wearing a wedding dress. She’s been looking forward to seeing me get married since she was little.” I threw the bridesmaid’s dress into the trash. His expression darkened as he scolded me, “Why are you so unreasonable? Even if you wear a bridesmaid’s dress, you’ll still be the bride. And if it weren’t for the fact that you’re pregnant, I wouldn’t be marrying you at all!” Placing my hand over my belly, I slammed the door and left. That night, he posted wedding photos with Jessica Jordan on his social media. Five years later, Shawn and I met again at a charity gala. He was invited as a specially invited donor, with Jessica by his side in a custom designer gown. The two behaved intimately. When he saw me crouching in a corner sorting a donated box of old clothes, he frowned and walked over. “Tiana Larrinson, you refused to wear that bridesmaid’s dress back then, and now, you’ve fallen so low that you’re rummaging through other people’s old clothes? “Look at you, sneaking into events like this by picking through scraps. You should’ve just listened to me back then.” I was confused, and it took me a long time to remember who he was. What he did not know was that the items up for auction at this charity gala were my and my daughter's old clothes.

The day before the World Piano Masters Competition, I was kidnapped, and my tendons were deliberately severed. Endorsements were swiftly terminated. Advertisers, once eager to work with me, turned instead to my rival. Crushed under the weight of betrayal and despair, I spiraled into a deep depression. Just when I was at my lowest, Carl Manos appeared. He not only paid off all my breach-of-contract penalties but also sought out top specialists to treat my damaged hand. Later, he knelt on one knee and solemnly proposed. I saw him as my salvation, the light that pierced through my darkness. Without hesitation, I let Carl slip the ring onto my finger. Two years later, my hand had fully recovered. I rushed to the study, eager to share the good news, only to overhear a chilling conversation. "Carl, if you hadn't arranged for someone to sever Reily's tendons, my sister never would've had the chance to win the competition and land those endorsements. I'll never forget what you did for us." There was a pause. Then came Carl's indifferent reply, "I simply helped Lucy achieve her dream. Breaking a woman's tendons in exchange for that is nothing." So this was the truth. The marriage I took such pride in… was nothing but a cold, calculated nightmare. Since that was the case, there was nothing left for me here. It was time to leave.

“I, Neolani Griffin accept you as my mate,” I beamed, waiting for him excitedly to accept me too. There was a long pause. “Who gave you the right to call me by my name?” He snapped, anger dripping from every word he spoke.“Answer me” He barked, eyes locked on mine. “How do you know my name? It must have been the maidservants right?, I'll have them stripped off their post” He stepped away from me. “I, Ragnar Gray, reject you Noelani Griffin as my mate” Neolani never asked to be a rogue. Once an Alpha, once a daughter, her world was in shambles the night her family was murdered and her pack taken hostage by her half-uncle. Now, she’s nothing but a rogue, fighting to survive where wolves like her are despised. On the run for survival she unkowingly crosses the borders of Alpha Ragnar pack who is known for his cruelty, powerful, merciless, and loyalty to a pack that sees rogues as the enemy. Alpha Ragnar prepares to end her without a second thought, but then he feels it. The bond, she’s his mate. The one thing he swore he would never want. Worse, his heart already belongs to someone else: his beautiful childhood friend who was mated to his beta, Kendrick. He rejected the bond the moment it burned through him. But desire doesn’t wait for permission. With every stolen glance, and every reckless touch, the line between hatred begins to blur. Together, they could ignite a powerful love that is if pride and betrayal don’t destroy them first.

Three years of my loyalty. My body. My silence. My whole heart wrapped up and placed in hands that never deserved it. And the night I found out I was carrying his child — I found him in our bed with my best friend instead. He didn't beg. Didn't explain. He looked me in the eye and said I was never his first choice. Then he filed the rejection papers before I could finish crying. So I left. I buried Cora — the weak, devoted, foolish Luna who loved a man who saw her as a placeholder. Five years later, I'm someone else entirely. Someone with a life he could never have imagined for me. Someone with a son whose silver eyes are the only beautiful thing that man ever gave me without meaning to. Now his pack is dying. And I'm the only one who can save them. He's on his knees in front of me. The question isn't whether I'll help him. The question is — how much will it cost him first? Some women fall apart when they're broken. I rebuilt myself into something he'll never be able to bury again.

"If you are going to enter my world, be ready to play my game," Mago warned, his eyes gleaming with danger, "If you can't keep up, then you'll have to endure the pain." MAGO CONCEPCION—ruthless, seductive, and incapable of love. He believed emotions were a weakness, and I, ARLENE MEJORADA, believed I could change him. I was the woman who thought I could heal him with my love, drawn in by his dangerous allure that I couldn't resist. I was a willing victim, drawn into his world of power and temptation. I convinced myself that I could handle the pain, that I could survive his cruel, calculating ways. But love doesn't always conquer all. Yet, my determination was unwavering. Soon, I found myself breaking. Piece by piece, he tore through my heart, leaving me shattered and empty, a shadow of the woman I once was. I wanted to save him, but in the end, I was the one who needed saving. This is my story—of how I gave him everything until nothing was left of me. Now I face the choice: do I pick up the pieces and walk away, or keep letting him destroy what’s left of me? My name is ARLENE MEJORADA, and I was willing to endure anything for love. Until I wasn’t.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.