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Triplets After Divorce: His Regret

Triplets After Divorce: His Regret

"Laurette, you are not qualified to have a child." Hearing these words from her husband, Laurette's heart shattered into a million pieces, leaving her wondering if she'd be enough. Every time they had sex, he'd remind her to take her contraceptive pill, making sure she never got pregnant. For five years, Laurette found herself trapped in a loveless, secret marriage with Bryce – one that forbids pregnancy. No one knew about it – not even her family. It's been five years already; everyone expected children, especially her mother-in-law, who couldn't wait to cradle her grandchild. But the truth was, she'd had a miscarriage years ago, and the doctor said she couldn't get pregnant again. The memory still lingered, a painful echo of what could've been. She kept it a secret, hiding behind a mask of compliance, letting her mother-in-law cling to hope of carrying her grandchild one day. But today was different. Her mother-in-law, Mrs. Ava, fueled by years of frustration, called Laurette "infertile." Bryce stood there, silent. He knew the truth. He knew about the contract, and he didn't defend her. Instead, he handed her divorce papers and said coldly, "Let's get divorced. My first love is back." Bryce Rodriguez chose Irene – his childhood sweetheart – over the woman who'd stood by him for five years. Laurette couldn't compete when her husband's first love returned. Heartbroken but dignified, she walked away without looking back. But fate had other plans. Months later, Bryce accompanied Irene to a prenatal checkup... only to run into his ex-wife, holding triplets! He went crazy and shouted, "Whose children are they?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "I thought you're infertile?" Laurette only smiled. Too late, Bryce realized the truth. He didn't just lose his wife... He lost his entire family.
Romance
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Broken Hearts and Second Chances

Broken Hearts and Second Chances

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.
Short Story · Romance
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T-3 Days to Farewell

T-3 Days to Farewell

Three days ago, I almost died. A birthday cake was needed for my sister, Rosa Esposito's birthday, so my dad told me to pick it up. He claimed that this was my way of making it up to Rosa for accidentally spilling coffee onto her new dress. When I was cornered in an alley by the thugs, I was in the middle of sending Rosa an apology text. They covered my mouth and dragged me into a van. That was when I heard them say, "Yup, that's her alright. That's the bitch named Rosa Esposito." I shook my head, trying to explain that I wasn't Rosa at all. But my name didn't matter at all when blows started raining down on me. That was how I spent the next three days in living hell. By the time I wake up in the hospital, my phone harbors a new family photo sent by Rosa. It features my dad, my older brother, Rafael Esposito, as well as my husband, Enzo Vitale. All three of them can be seen surrounding Rosa. When I was in the middle of getting pinned on the ground while feeling blades slashing my skin, these people were celebrating Rosa's birthday happily with her. Later on, Rosa smiles at my face. "Do you have any idea how much I hate that face of yours? I also hate how much better you are than me as well as the fact that everyone likes you more than me! "That's why I've robbed all of their love from you… be it Dad, Rafael, or your husband! You, on the other hand, deserve to be alone till the day you die!" At that moment, I've made three choices. First, I forge a miscarriage report. Next, I place a signed divorce agreement into a giftbox. Finally, I dial the number of my mentor, Sofia Bianchi. There, I agree to participate in a classified project research that will last for ten years without getting in contact with anyone. Since then, I, Valentina Esposito, have never existed in this world.
Short Story · Mafia
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Death Comes in Twos

Death Comes in Twos

My Alpha's ex-girlfriend finds an excuse to move in with us. Whenever she sees me and my pup, she clutches her chest and acts like she's devastated. My Alpha is sure that I'm deliberately showing off our pup to upset her. "I can't believe you keep flaunting our pup to get on Cissy's nerves! I have to teach you a lesson!" He orders his men to have our pup and me thrown into the basement. No one is allowed to bring me food. I try to escape, and I beg for mercy. I tell him our pup is weak because I wasn't in the best of health when carrying it. I also tell him a healer has advised me to be hospitalized for further treatment. He sounds like he's heard the world's biggest joke, and his tone is cold as he says, "How can you be weak when you made it out of being ambushed in the forest? Stop trying to make yourself seem pitiful! Stay in the basement and repent! This is what you get for making things hard for Cissy!" What he doesn't know is that, when I save him from the attack, I lose my wolf because I am injected with wolfsbane. During my pregnancy, I am also hospitalized many times in order to prevent miscarriage due to the fact that my body is too weak. The pup is in poor health and has been receiving treatment since birth. In the basement, I slash my wrists to feed my pup with my blood, but he still dies in my arms. My devastated howls reverberate in the space. Losing my wolf means I no longer have the ability to heal myself. I lie in a puddle of my blood as I hold my pup's cold body close. Three days later, my Alpha decides he wants me back when he drinks a cup of coffee that isn't to his liking. He says, "Let my Luna out so she can make me coffee and apologize to Cissy. She and the pup can be taken to the hospital if she's sincere enough." No one dares obey his orders—my blood is already flowing out of the basement.
Short Story · Werewolf
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