I Was Pregnant After Divorce Novels & Stories

Alpha Kaden chose power over love, rejecting his fated mate Aria in front of the entire pack to marry the daughter of a rival Alpha. Humiliated and heartbroken, Aria was cast out with nothing but her shattered bond and burning rage. But rejection ignited something fiercer within her. Rising from the ashes of her pain, Aria discovers her true bloodline—one that makes her far more powerful than anyone ever suspected. When she returns as Luna of the most formidable pack in the region, Kaden realises too late what he’s lost. The mate he discarded now holds his fate in her hands, and she’s not the broken girl he cast aside. Now he’ll beg. He’ll grovel. He’ll burn with regret as he watches her claim everything that should have been theirs—without him. But can a bond truly severed ever be restored? And does a man who chose ambition over his mate deserve a second chance? In a world where the mate bond is sacred, breaking it comes with a price. And Aria is here to collect.

Alice Lewiston stumbled upon Enzo Clinton, the most powerful and richest business man in Liverpool who was allergic to women and end up sleeping with him for the night after seeing her Cousin impregnated by her finance. He suddenly become obsessed with her after the night they spent together and used everything in his power to get her. He gave her Juicy offers in exchange for thier marriage. Alice found herself as the madam of the largest household in Liverpool from 'Miss Alice Lewiston to Mrs Alice Clinton" even though she was still a student that's studying at a film academy and got small roles. Alice suddenly have the power to get anything she wished for, including Revenge on her ex boyfriend and Cousin.

My younger sister had sworn off marriage and children, but as we grew older, she envied me for having both a husband and son. Not only did she demand that I share my husband with her, but she even wanted my son to care for her in her old age. I scolded her for being delusional and shameless. But she held a grudge, and in front of my son, she claimed that I had cut off his chance at inheriting a fortune. He believed her. With one strike, he killed me and then declared to the world that my sister was his real mother. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day my sister refused to go on a blind date. This time, she happily agreed to it and even boasted to me that she planned to have many kids. "Liz Stanton, this time, I'll be the one with a husband and kids." But I had no intention of reliving the misery of marriage either.

When Samara marries a wealthy and powerful Colonel to save her family, she knew her life long dream of experiencing true love was thwarted. He was way older and never struck as the kind of man she would want to spend her entire life with. However an unexpected turn of event made her realise she might just be wrong, and her lifelong dream might become a reality.

My dad, Frank Stanford, was an Alpha. I, Lana Stanford, was his only daughter. The year I turned eighteen, he told me to choose a mate from the nine werewolf warriors he had taken in. I avoided Simon Eaton, the one I used to be obsessed with. In my previous life, I was kidnapped by rogues on the very day of my marking ceremony. When they drove silver nails soaked in wolfsbane through my palms, I endured the agony and sent a desperate plea through our mind link. “Simon, help me.” All I got back was his cold response. “Lana Stanford, are you done yet? Is this another lame trick of yours? “You actually hurt yourself just to get me to come see you? You're disgusting.” I closed my eyes in despair. As the silver cage sank into the frozen lake, icy water filled my lungs. My wolf let out a final, broken cry and died with me. When I woke up again, I'd returned to the day my dad asked me to choose a mate. This time, the very first thing I did was cross Simon’s name off the list. Later, he stood in front of me with tearful eyes and asked why I hadn’t chosen him. I didn’t answer. I just looked at him strangely. “Simon, this time, I did exactly what you wanted. Why are you crying again?”

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker in the hopes that he would collect my body. That way, I could die and be buried. I would like to finally be at peace, even if it meant that I could only achieve it after death. I packed up my bags and left home in search of a place to die, only to receive a message from my undertaker. [Sorry, something came up. I can’t come now.] …Excuse me? I’m already half-dead, and you’re blowing me off?

"If you thought you had just escaped hell, then you're wrong. Because you are in hell, Camille. And neither you nor that bastard child will come out alive," he spat, his voice shaking with rage. His words sent a shiver down her spine. "WELCOME TO HELL, CAMILLE!" he shrieked maniacally, as the guards dragged him away. "WELCOME TO HELL!" ⸻ In a country where the price of murder is murder, Camille Owens is accused of killing her birth father, David Owens. Locked up with no hope of escaping her execution, Camille Owens has only one solution to save her head: pregnancy. She had to be pregnant-and her only choice of a baby's father was none other than the General's son, Pierce Landon, the son of the only man in Ventria powerful enough to spare her life. But Pierce Landon had vowed never to bear an heir for his father-and when he learns the truth, he will do anything to erase the mistake... even if it means murdering her.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. You just walked out of Boston City Hall looking absolutely radiant. Any special occasion to celebrate?" "I'm getting divorced." "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind telling me what happened?" "He's been bedding his late right-hand man's sister. In my art studio, on my yacht, across my private study desk, and even on the grand piano in our living room. He thought I didn't know." "I can't imagine how much this hurts. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Where are you heading now?" "The hospital. Prenatal checkup." ... The interview went viral within hours for her calm, unflinching recounting of the betrayal and the shocking contrast between her glamorous mafia wife identity and her devastating situation. It didn't take long for netizens to dig out my identity, and the entire world now knows the woman in that video is me. Elena, Donna of the Moretti family. Three years ago, Vincenzo Moretti, the undisputed Don who ruled Boston's underworld with an iron fist, threw me a wedding that made headlines across the nation. Back then, everyone envied me, calling me the luckiest woman alive. But now? That interview had been online for nearly two days, and Vincenzo was still lost in his little love nest. By the time Vincenzo finally bothered to watch the video his men had forwarded to him, I was already in New Zealand. The whole world knew I was leaving Vincenzo Moretti. He was the last person on earth to find out.

"Vera, you are accused of conspiring with the Petrov Group to assassinate the family's future Donna, Sylvia. This tribunal is now in session." In the center of the tribunal, a syringe filled with a dark green liquid glinted under the lights. My former fiancé, Rocco, the new Don of the Corleone family, sat on the dais, disgust plain on his face. "Confess. Let everyone see the monster you are behind that mask." Sylvia leaned against his chest, a faint smile on her lips. She thought I would finally break, my reputation in ruins. Shackled to the accused's chair, a smile of faint relief touched my lips. "Rocco, are you sure you want to do this?" "Use that needle, and there's no going back."

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.