L'heure Du Divorce

My husband Fred had a "big surprise" for my birthday - a divorce settlement. "Emily, sign it. The two-year contract marriage is over. Fred said calmly. "But, Fred, I..." I began, trying to explain how I really felt, the words trembling out of my mouth. "You knew the deal, Emily," he interrupted. Yes, it was true. Our agreed deadline had passed. I loved Fred with all my heart. What he didn't know was that I had known him for a long time. I hid my identity as a billionaire's daughter and married him to be a good wife. I thought 2 years of marriage would win his love. But when his first love, Nancy, returned, it was all over. Heartbroken, it's time to say goodbye. When I decide to forget him and return to my original life, Fred became increasingly strange, even begging me to love him again. "But I don't love you anymore." I said indifferently. "It's my turn to love you." Fred begged.

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

Sa edad na 22, ikinasal si Tamara Alonzo, sa lalaking nagpapatibok ng kaniyang puso. Walang iba kundi sa bilyonaryong babaero na si Galvino Lorenzo.

How many points did I lose for accepting my husband’s divorce five years ago after being framed by who I considered my best friend and losing my unborn baby in the process? -1000 points. Elle Marino, once the heiress of the Marino Family gave up her inheritance to get married to the love of her life. But, things went downhill when she got framed by her best friend and no one believed her. Devastated, she fled back to her hometown and took her rightful inheritance as the head of her family’s business. With the help of her brother, they have made her family name stand proud once again. Now, it's time to show the world that Elle Marino isn't the woman they once knew. She's stronger. Wiser. And more powerful than ever. And she vowed to do everything it takes to bring down her ex-husband’s business and make life unbearable for her ex-best friend. Will she succeed or will her heart once again betray her when he comes begging for a second chance?

Azar Khaled, 29 ans, est l’attaquant-star de l’Olympique de Marseille. Icône du football français, capitaine adulé et machine à buts, il incarne la ville sur les terrains du Vélodrome comme dans les campagnes de pub de luxe. Il est beau, riche, puissant. Entouré de gardes du corps, de sponsors et de femmes sublimes, il vit dans une villa ultramoderne sur les hauteurs, loin du bruit, loin du réel. Mais Azar s’ennuie. Derrière les flashs et les trophées, il étouffe. Tout le monde l’admire, mais plus personne ne l’atteint. Jusqu’à elle. Leyna Dias, 20 ans, vit à l’opposé de ce monde. Une cité bétonnée du 13e arrondissement. Une mère malade, deux petits frères à charge. Serveuse dans un bar à chicha, elle enchaîne les petits boulots pour survivre. Elle rêve en cachette d’un autre avenir mais elle a appris à ne rien attendre. Surtout pas d’un homme comme lui. Ils n’auraient jamais dû se croiser. Mais une nuit, Leyna est engagée comme hôtesse lors d’une soirée privée organisée pour les partenaires de l’OM, dans une villa de luxe sur la Corniche. Robe louée. Badge provisoire. Interdiction de parler aux invités. Elle le voit. Et lui, il la repère immédiatement. Pas pour son physique il a vu défiler toutes les formes de beauté. Mais pour ce qu’elle refuse de donner. Son regard, calme et fiévreux. Sa façon d’être là sans chercher à séduire. Elle ne joue pas. Elle ne ment pas. Il ne sait pas pourquoi, mais il la veut.

WARNING: The female lead is not a weak, spineless doormat. She’s bold, funny, slightly fearless and witty as hell. Her husband is an absolute fool and her ex-fiancé is a full fledged red flag who is completely obsessed with her. Thanks for reading!! *** At the age of 18, Amani’s fiancé looked her in the eyes and called her “the trash.” On top of that, he proceeded to call off their engagement because he found a more beautiful and glamorous woman. Heartbroken and shattered, she gets married to Henry Wilson a few years later and he turns out to be an abuser and a cheat. Their son is diagnosed with stage four cancer and while he breathes his last on his deathbed, Henry is busy frolicking around town with his new secretary. Angry beyond measure, she files for divorce. Amani’s plan after divorce is to remain totally man-free for the rest of her life, but that plan turns to dust when the man who shattered her heart at 18 storms back into her life like a violent earthquake. Bhyron Macaulay is his name – New York’s most enigmatic billionaire bachelor, gorgeous as a demon and every woman’s dream man. One thing about him? He hates debtors. And Amani’s late parents owe him the sum of twenty million dollars. Bhyron has only one plan — to make sure Amani becomes his wife whether by consent or by force, and he plans to use that debt as leverage. When dark, haunting secrets about their pasts start to fly and Amani begins to feel a burning attraction for a man she once swore she hates, who will fall first? The heartless billionaire or the woman he once abandoned…?

After my husband topped the wealth rankings, he hired his first love as his personal housekeeper at a high salary. “Quincy, you hail from humble beginnings. I don’t want you embarrassing me in high society, so I specifically brought in Vivian to teach you the rules. From now on, everything you do must be reported to her for approval.” From that moment on, in public, I was the glamorous Mrs. Lane. However, behind closed doors, to even enjoy simple marital moments with my husband I had to write a thousand-word application seeking Vivian’s approval. Then, my adoptive father had a heart attack. I dropped to my knees, begging her to transfer me five hundred thousand dollars. She laughed coldly. “What kind of surgery costs half a million? Stop making excuses to pad your family’s finances.” “This isn’t a small sum. Write a 10,000-word application, and this time it’s denied.” Rage coursed through me, my body trembling uncontrollably as I spun toward Tyler and fell to my knees, begging him to save my father’s life. There wasn’t even a flicker of emotion on his face. “Vivian did nothing wrong. I know you’re still clinging to your old poor habits even after getting rich, but my money doesn’t grow on trees.” “This time, your father’s medical treatment will be put on hold as a lesson. Next time, don’t blame me if he’s kicked out of the VIP ward.” In the end, my adoptive father died on the operating table due to the delay in treatment. Completely disheartened, I finally asked Tyler for a divorce.

On the day, my husband, Eugene Doyle, receives the offer to further his studies in the city, he serves me divorce papers instead. I, Maria Johnston, am eight months pregnant with his child. He tries to console me. "Maria, ever since my elder brother, Edgar, passed away, Janice has had nobody taking care of her. She can't survive on her own. "I'll marry her for the time being, just on paper, until she manages to find her footing in the city. After that, I'll come back and marry you again." Everyone assumes that I will patiently and obediently wait for Eugene to return because of my pregnancy. However, I tear up his written oath to me and terminate the pregnancy that same day. Then, with the offer letter for the National Archeology Certification in my hands, I leave our little village and disappear from Eugene's life. Five years later, I become a successful archeologist and return to the same village for a survey. My current husband, Rupert Kingston, can't come at the same time as me due to an emergency meeting, but he has informed the villagers to welcome me with open arms ahead of time. To my surprise, I meet my ex-husband instead. He says, "I know that you lost your baby at eight months. There's no need to be ashamed about it. It's about time you came back after running away from home all those years ago. "Janice is about to give birth. We need you to be her nanny."

I plan on ordering some food using my husband's phone, yet I've noticed a remark that's been saved on the delivery app. "The food is for a pregnant lady. Please make sure to be hygienic and use less oil and salt when making the dishes." I can feel my heart sink. I turn my gaze toward the bathroom, where my husband is. I can't figure out why my husband, who's been firm about not wanting a child, has been ordering meals for pregnant women. After a moment of hesitation, I scroll through the delivery app's order history with shaky hands. Numerous orders have been placed with the same restaurant, one that specializes in making exquisite dishes designed for pregnant women. Each of these food orders costs more than ten thousand dollars. My husband's company address has been chosen as the delivery address, and he's also the recipient. … After exiting the delivery app, I sit on the couch and stare into space. As I look at my husband's well-defined muscles, I recall how he, who's about to hit 40, is suddenly quite invested in getting in shape over the past year. I blurt out asking, "Have you been ordering food to your office often lately?" My husband freezes for a split second. Then, he fixes me with a gentle gaze. "I do that once in a while. Why are you suddenly asking about that? By the way, I haven't had the sweet and sour meatballs you make in a long while. Can you make some for me so that I can bring them to the office for my lunch tomorrow?" I smile at him and agree to his request. Still, I toss and turn in bed as the remark about the pregnant lady in his phone keeps gnawing at me that night.

Tristan Hénault était un homme à l'allure claire et lumineuse, né au sein d'une lignée de hauts dignitaires. Son origine était prestigieuse, sa famille influente. Il était le favori du destin, celui que tous admiraient depuis le piédestal où on l'avait placé. Ils s'étaient aimés pendant quatre ans. Tout le monde savait que Léonie Tessier était son amour le plus profond, gravé dans sa chair et dans son cœur. Mais une mise en scène de « tromperie » avait tout fait voler en éclats, et ils s'étaient séparés dans la confusion et l'humiliation. Cinq ans plus tard, ils se sont retrouvés. Il l'a plaquée contre le mur, et dans ses yeux brûlait une haine capable de tout anéantir. « Puisque tu as disparu de mon monde, alors disparais complètement. Ne me laisse plus jamais te revoir. » Elle a répondu sans hésitation, d'une voix nette : « D'accord. » Tristan la haïssait jusqu'au fond de l'âme, et pourtant il continuait à devenir fou pour elle, à perdre tout contrôle à cause d'elle. Lorsque la vérité a enfin été révélée, les yeux rougis, il l'a acculée contre la porte : « Passe ta vie à expier. Épouse-moi. Ta dette, c'est moi qui la porterai. »