Melodramatic

Three months after my baby was born, I found out my husband, Joe, was cheating. The other woman? Hailey. Pregnant and smug. Joe actually got on his knees, begging for a divorce. I said yes. Until I could find a place, Joe's mom, Claudia, let me stay at the house. "Hailey," Claudia said, "you'll handle all the household responsibilities now." Hailey, all fake enthusiasm, chirped, "I'll take good care of this family!" Claudia replied, "Great. You'll start your day at five making breakfast. When Luca's hungry, you'll feed him and change his diapers. Once he's down for a nap, clean the house, grocery shop, and prep lunch. Laundry in the afternoon, tea service mid-day, then bathe Luca and cook dinner. After that, you'll put him to bed." Hailey's face? Priceless.

Two weeks before our wedding, Jonah Alston suddenly wants to postpone it. He says, "Sasha says she's having her first exhibition on that day. She'll be alone during the opening, and I'm worried she'll get stage fright. I have to help her. We're just going through the motions with the wedding, anyway. What does it matter whether it's a day earlier or later?" This isn't his first time postponing our wedding for Sasha Lester's sake, though. The first time he did it was because he claimed she missed having homecooked food after undergoing surgery. He'd flown abroad to care for her for two months. The second time was because he said she wanted to head into the mountains to get inspired. He'd gone with her out of concern for her safety. Now, this is the third time. I hang up and look at Austin Everett, my childhood sweetheart. He sits across from me, looking leisurely as he taps his emerald-embedded walking cane on the marble floor. I ask, "Do you need a wife?" On my wedding day, Sasha holds up her glass and waits for Jonah to clink it with his. However, his eyes are red as he watches a livestream—it's the wedding of the scion of Everett Group, the country's largest property development company.

After eight years of loving him in vain, my boyfriend, Gilbert Hughes, finally proposed. The wedding is set for a week from now. However, just as I'm happily preparing for it, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and his friends. "I have to give it to Gilbert. The moment he proposes, his first love, Cheryl, gets restless." "But now that Cheryl's back, what are you going to do with your girlfriend?" Gilbert pauses for a moment, then replies casually, "It's fine. I'm not actually going to register my marriage with Jennifer. At worst, I'll just hold a wedding and play along." At the party the next day, he wraps his arm around me dotingly and socializes with our guests. Yet, the moment Cheryl Manning runs out in tears, he instantly lets go of me and chases after her in a panic. I follow quietly and watch them embrace tightly in the dark, kissing each other deeply. With my heart completely shattered, I turn away and dial a number. "Want to get married? I need a groom."

On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Oliver Parker, asks me to take off my wedding gown. He wants to let his childhood friend, Angela Summers, be the bride instead. In helplessness, he tries to explain, "Angela has leukemia. Her dying wish is to be a bride and have a wedding. Once I've fulfilled her wish, I'll marry you." Everyone seems to think I'll just go along with it and wait for him to come back and marry me. After all, I've spent three years preparing for this wedding. I've poured my heart into every detail and devoted so much time to making it perfect. However, while Oliver and Angela celebrate their wedding that night, I gave my biological parents a call to tell them I'm coming to be with them. I board a red-eye flight out of Stonevale, leaving everything behind without looking back. … Three years later, I flew back to Stonevale with my husband, Daniel Holden, to attend the anniversary celebration of the Holden Group's Stonevale branch. However, I never expected to run into Oliver at the airport. "You've been gone for three years. Isn't that enough time to let things go? Angela's leukemia is cured, and we're divorced now. Come back to me. Let's finally have our wedding. Don't be so stubborn anymore!"

The company had just taken off when a project my wife, Lenora Peterson, was in charge of ran into trouble. To ease her mind during her pregnancy, I went overseas in her stead, spending ten perilous years abroad before finally returning home, barely alive. Instead of the joyful reunion I had imagined, she greeted me with cold detachment and thinly veiled disgust. "Why are you back?" Lenora asked. "Today is Nathan’s housewarming party," she added. "Let’s head there first—we’ll talk later." We rode in silence the entire way. When we arrived, a ten-year-old girl came dashing over and clung to Lenora affectionately. “Mommy, why did you take so long? Daddy’s been waiting for you forever!” Daddy? My eyes burned with rage—until I saw my old friend Nathan Grant stepping out to greet us with a smile. "Lily, come to Daddy. Mommy’s tired—don’t bother her now." When I met Lenora’s eyes, the guilt I saw there told me everything I needed to know. I turned away and texted my assistant, Morgan Williamson, to begin acquiring the company that, by right, had always belonged to me. He soon reported back. "Mr. Brooke, the acquisition process will be completed in three days."

I took my in-laws to our place for Christmas without telling my wife. It was supposed to be a surprise, but the moment George, my father-in-law, stepped into the house, my wife's assistant shoved him. He crashed into the shoe cabinet and threw out his back. "Ms. Sampson's villa doesn't let homeless people in. I can't believe you're her father-in-law. Look at you. Even a homeless guy wears better than you." I told the maid to hold George, but the male assistant stopped me again. He even shoved my mother-in-law, Diane. "You think you own this place? That's Ms. Sampson's maid. It's enough she has to serve a leech like you. You don't get to make her serve your parents." The fury consumed Diane whole, and she had a heart attack. I called my wife and asked her to come to the hospital. Wendy Sampson, however, shrugged it off. Scoffing, she said, "Zack told me everything. I can't believe you brought your parents to my house! And you want me to see your mother? She's faking her heart attack! I know she is! I want them out of my house! So what if they die? Best Christmas gift I could ever hope for."

Everyone knew I, Isabella Marino, was Vince Moretti's greatest weakness—the one thing the mafia boss would never tolerate being touched. Years ago, when I was kidnapped, Vince disarmed himself at gunpoint, risking death to get me back, even paying his entire fortune for my ransom. To keep me from harm, he walked a razor's edge, navigating danger at every turn. After I got pregnant, he waited on me hand and foot, barely letting my feet touch the ground. There were rumors that he kept a pampered mistress outside—some woman he spoiled rotten. I never believed them. But then she flaunted herself in front of me. To beg for my forgiveness, Vince cut off his own finger. The next day, that woman slapped her pregnancy test results in my face, sneering, "Vince wanted a baby with me so badly, he just couldn't help himself!" I was already frail. The shock and rage sent me into a miscarriage.

At eight months pregnant, I was hit by a car and gave birth early. But unexpectedly, I regained my hearing. Outside the operating room, my husband was talking to the doctor. “Mr. Griffin, the baby is fully developed and stable. A normal delivery should be possible—” Albert Griffin cut him off immediately, “No, induce the labor now! I promised Summer that I would let our child rightfully join the Griffin family. Paulina is almost a month old. If she gets any older, people will figure out the truth. “If this baby doesn’t make it, that’s fine. She can always have another one. But this is the only way she will truly believe that Paulina is her own child.” I closed my eyes tightly and forced myself to stay calm. He thought his lies were perfect, but he was wrong. I heard everything. And if he could lie and pretend, so could I.

My Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart and I are pregnant at the same time. To protect her reputation, he announces to the public that her pup is his. However, he claims that my pup is a bastard that I conceived after having an affair with another man. I go from being the noble Luna to a despised slut everyone scorns instantly. When I question my mate, Simon Latham, he shrugs and says, "Xandra has always been a goody two-shoes. She won't be able to handle the gossip from being pregnant without a mate. You're the Luna. Isn't it your duty to help your people?" On that day, any form of affection and love I ever felt for him die down completely. I secretly schedule an abortion and book a plane ticket. From now on, I will leave Simon for good.

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.