He Discarded Me Like I Was Nothing

After I become pregnant, Mason Clarke suddenly becomes incredibly attentive to me. He cancels all his social engagements and personally cooks for me every day. Everyone envies me for finding such a devoted and caring husband. Until one day in his study, I accidentally discover a document titled "Prenatal Blood Donation and Cord Blood Donation Agreement". My name and social security number are clearly written on it! In the beneficiary column is Chloe Reid, his first love, whom he has been supporting abroad for seven years. From outside the door comes his gentle, doting voice. "Chloe, don't worry. I'm personally monitoring her. Her nutrition and daily routine are held to the highest standards to ensure the baby is born perfectly healthy. Your life-saving treatment is absolutely guaranteed!" So all those pregnancy meals he carefully prepares for me, the mountains of expensive supplements, none of it is ever out of love. It's all to fatten me into nothing more than a walking blood bank!

"See how wet you are for me? I bet he could never make you feel this good… I’ll make a video and send it to that ex-husband of yours, let him watch how you ride me senseless.” Used and discarded, Elena Carter was nothing more than a contract wife. The moment her billionaire ex secured his inheritance, she was thrown aside and replaced. Years later, she returns as Lyra Royce. Now, her ex-husband’s stepbrother is her fiancée, and together, they have a shared goal: destroy Adrian Black. Caught between two brothers, which man will she ultimately choose?

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."

My Alpha mate, Ross, and I were known as the most resentful couple. He hated me for allegedly swapping his sister's antidote, which led to her death from wolfsbane poisoning. On the other hand, I despised him for turning a blind eye when my younger brother was bullied, abandoning him to die alone in the pitch-black forbidden forest. Upon hearing the news, he sneered and spoke to me for the first time in ages, "This is your karma." When I was three months pregnant, I was kidnapped by an enemy pack. As I was left bleeding from the torture and my unborn child slipping away, the enemy demanded he surrender his western territory in exchange for saving his Luna. However, he just scoffed. "It's about time to stop this act. Tell Jenny that I'm not falling for this. Don't even think of watching me make a fool of myself." In the end, I lost everything—just as he wished, as if it was my retribution. So, why did he regret everything?

On our tenth anniversary, I came home with roses and the biggest deal of my career. I expected celebration. Instead, I found my husband in bed with my cousin. They looked at me like I was the one who had interrupted something that mattered. That night, I walked away from the man I thought loved me and the company I built. They thought I vanished. They rebranded everything in my absence, twisted the story, and erased my name from what I created. But I did not disappear. I became Juliana Cross. And I am not here to beg for what was mine. I am here to take it all back.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, Vincent Castellano celebrated like a man who had been handed heaven. Fireworks over Brooklyn. Vows whispered against my stomach. Promises that his empire, his loyalty, and his life were mine. That same day, I found out the hospital built in my name had been sheltering his affair. While I was throwing up and fighting to keep our babies safe, he was holding another woman in the next room. So I made my choice. I would keep the twins. But Vincent Castellano would lose all three of us.

My fated mate, Alpha Cullen, fell for the lies of his first love, Donna, and planned to kill me. But in a twist of fate, we were ambushed by rogues and died together. But with his last breath, he whispered another woman's name: Donna. In that moment, I knew the truth—it had always been her, his real love. When the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance, I was reborn on the day I first met him. One look at the hatred in his eyes, and I knew: he had been reborn, too. So before he could speak, I rejected him in front of the entire pack. Years later, when we met again, he sneered that I was nothing more than a pathetic rogue who tinkered with flowers. But he didn't know I had found a new mate: Orton, the Alpha of Alphas. It wasn't until our son ran to me, wrapping his little arms around my leg and crying, "Mommy!" that Cullen's façade finally shattered. He grabbed my arm, his voice cracking as he begged, "This can't be happening! I'm your fated mate! You still love me… right, Juliet?"

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

I woke up in the past, on the eve of being traded by my family to that controlling mafia Don. Last life, his suffocating “love” and rigid rules strangled me to death. This time, watching my father’s eager face, I just smiled. “The engagement? Give it to your precious illegitimate daughter.” I walked away. Using the skills he forced me to learn, I secured my escape. On the day of his wedding to my replacement, I boarded a plane far from this gilded hell. Just before leaving, I pressed a button. The family mansion—the symbol of my old prison—erupted into a fireball behind me. Now, I’m thriving under the Mediterranean sun, free and wild. The once-untouchable Don is scouring the globe for me, unraveling. He found me at an airport, fell to his knees, his eyes desperate, begging me to come back. I lowered my sunglasses and looked at this stranger, my ex-fiancé, my voice utterly calm. “Do I know you?”