Hope He Cheats

Melannie couldn't remember the last time she felt something. While Ace remembers every sting and ache. Both of their chaotic worlds collide and through every moment they share, one starts to feel and the other starts to heal. The only thing standing in between is that it's a cycle of pain, and no one knows how to get out.

At the pack's festival, a witch hands me a crystal orb that reveals the truth. When I ask "why," she says she was entrusted to deliver it and reminds me only to use it when I am alone. As the image in the orb grows clearer, and my mate appears, I forget how to breathe. "Jared Hamilton, do you love me?" a woman asks in her sweetest voice, curling her arms around his neck. "I do. Of course, I do. You're the only one I'll love for the rest of my life, Luciana." My hand slips. Even after the crystal orb hits the floor, I can still hear them talking. "I swear before the sacred Moon Goddess that I'll be with you, Luciana Rose, until my very last breath. If I ever break this oath, may I never know joy again." I feel suffocated. All I can do is stare in disbelief. The woman he vows to love for life is none other than my very best friend.

Her life was picture-perfect—until the night everything came crashing down. One scandal. One devastating betrayal. And suddenly, the woman who once had it all is painted as the villain in a story she never got to tell. Humiliated, abandoned by the man who promised forever, and stripped of everything she built, she vanishes without a trace. But disappearing was never the end of her story. Years later, she returns as someone entirely different—stronger, untouchable, and fueled by a quiet hunger for justice. No longer the broken woman they left behind, she’s now a ruthless corporate investigator with one mission: expose the corruption hidden beneath her ex-husband’s flawless empire. She came back for revenge. To ruin him the way he ruined her. But the closer she gets to the truth, the more cracks begin to show in the story she believed for years. Buried secrets rise to the surface, old wounds reopen, and the man she swore to hate may not be the enemy after all.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

Amelia Jones, Amy's good life turned upside down when she lost both her parents in a car accident. Now she got to move in with her father's best friend, Peter Brown, and his family. The only problem, their elder son Jason Brown is her arch-nemesis. That and her maternal uncle whom she never saw coming to take her custody. What is Amelia going to choose? Staying in Los Angeles and continue her life with Jason to irritate her 24*7 Or leave Los Angeles and move to India and leaving her whole life behind. And fast forward she comes to know that her wedding is fixed with Jason a long time back.

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.

RAYNE DE LUCA is the devil, and I am the sacrifice thrown at his feet. I am the pawn in his little game unbeknownst to my father, but who says I am who you all think I am? Who says I will allow myself be wrapped around his finger like the doll he wants me to be? Sometimes everyone forgets who I am. Too bad, I won't remind you. You will watch and you will know, all by yourself. Sincerely, LILITH.

"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.

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.

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.