Novels About Cheating Novels & Stories

When the earthquake hit, I found myself buried under the rubble, barely clinging to life. My wife, Meghan Hudson, charges into the collapsing office building without hesitation. However, the person she rescues is Gerald Parker, the new technical specialist at my company. Even as she hurries away with the rescue team, she doesn't spare me a single glance. Severely crushed and bleeding heavily, I'm rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. Yet, Meghan pours all her care and attention into Gerald, who barely has a scratch on him. In the end, I'm completely disheartened and pull out the divorce papers. Meghan goes berserk and tears them to shreds, thinking I'll give in like I always did. What she doesn't know is that this time, I'm truly exhausted.

To save his childhood sweetheart, who had a congenital heart condition, my husband tricked me into signing an organ donation agreement. Then he got into a truck and ran me over right in front of the hospital. Barely clinging to life, Elliot Carter tore my heart from my chest. When my body was wheeled out of the operating room, Alan Yates came crashing to my side like a man gone mad. Seeing the gaping hole where my heart used to be, he screamed and wept: "I'm sorry… I was too late… If there's another life, I'll never let you suffer like this again…" Tears fell exactly where my heart had been, and somehow, I even felt a flicker of warmth. He spun around and ran back into the operating room. When he came out again, Elliot and Jessica Foster were lying in a pool of blood. Alan, meanwhile, had slashed his own wrist to die with me. On his deathbed, he ordered that we be buried together. Then I opened my eyes. I had been reborn. Before me stood Elliot, dressed in a wedding gown, holding a bouquet, and proposing. I flung the flowers in his face and turned to embrace Alan in the crowd. However, only a year and a half into our marriage, he changed. Alan began openly pairing up with Jessica, letting her move into our home. Worse, he claimed that our cat's mating season had disturbed Jessica's sleep, and so he allowed her to run over the cat I had raised for seven years. I could not believe it. This was not the man who had loved me so deeply in my previous life. My eyes blazing, I demanded, "What's wrong with you?" However, Alan's gaze was icy. "Nothing. I just don't love you anymore."

I'm Lindt Group's CEO's mistress. When Gerald Lindt's fiancée calls to demand answers, I lean into his embrace and tell him to go to her. I play the role of a mistress perfectly. However, Gerald kisses me tenderly. "You're too kind, Lucy." I conceal the ruthlessness and hatred in my eyes as the image of a young woman's corpse appears in my mind. She was subjected to inhumane torture before her death. The pain of losing my loved one eats away at me; it's a feeling I'll never forget. I want all of these people who think they're better than me and my sister to pay with their lives.

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

Mom dies of rage when she discovers that the bride at my wedding has become Nelly Johnson, Harvey Fisher's business partner. My wedding turns into Mom's funeral the moment she breathes her last breath. Despite that, Harvey insists that the ceremony continue as planned. He even orders me to put the wedding ring on Nelly's finger. "Hurry up and put it on! I'll explain everything to you tonight!" he snarls. I ignore him and leave the hotel with Mom's body in my arms. The wedding ends with a banging success at 8:00 pm. Nelly updated her social media with a post that's liked by tens of thousands of people. "I've finally married the light of my life! I'd like to thank a certain homewrecker for leaving after remembering her place." Harvey updates his social media with a similar post. "Those who are unworthy don't deserve to be loved." I like both their posts in the ice-cold morgue. I comment, "I wish you two a lifetime of happiness." Then, I head home with Mom's ashes. When I enter the house, I see Harvey holding Nelly tightly while making out with her.

In my sixth year with Nathan Bennett. "Nathan, I'm getting married," I said. He jolted, suddenly snapping back to reality, looking somewhat troubled. "Hannah, you know the company is at a crucial point with our financing. I'm not in the mood to..." “It’s okay,” I replied, my smile calm and composed. Nathan misunderstood. I was getting married, but not to him.

I was a wedding planner, and I personally designed my husband's wedding to his mistress. I had been with Victor for five years. Three of those years were swallowed by the pandemic. The remaining two were spent married, pregnant, and raising a child. The wedding I had always dreamed of existed only as "next time" whenever it came out of his mouth, until the day I received a new wedding planning request. The client was a young woman, her eyes curved with laughter, her smile bright and full of hope. "This is the venue my boyfriend chose himself," she said softly. "He insisted the wedding had to be held here." I took the file from her, and my gaze stopped on the venue name. The church in Clairmont. The very church I had mentioned to my husband countless times, the place I had dreamed of more than anything else. I was just about to smile and marvel at how someone in this world shared my taste so perfectly when the groom's name leapt into view. Victor Langford. My fingers froze on the page. Across from me, the girl was still wrapped in her happiness. She added gently, "We've only been together for two months, but he said he wants to give me the best wedding possible." I curved my lips into a smile and fixed my eyes on that familiar face—the man I had lived with for five years. After all this time, the day I planned Victor's wedding had finally arrived. Too bad the bride wasn't me.

After I get off work from the hospital, I decide to exercise by taking my mountain bike out on a ride. However, that's when I find out that the seat of my mountain bike has been lowered. There's even a blue sticky note with a scribbled heart pasted on the bike handle. I call my wife, Sabrina Yellin. "Who took my bike on a ride?" After a few seconds of silence, Sabrina replies nonchalantly, "Kelly's boyfriend wanted to learn how to ride a mountain bike yesterday, so he practiced a few laps with your bike. What's wrong, though? Is the bike damaged in any way?" Kelly's boyfriend? But he had boasted about going on an overseas vacation for one whole month last week on his social media account. My gut feeling tells me that something's fishy about this whole thing. So, I just curl my lips into a smirk. "Nah. He can keep using it." After that, I push the mountain bike back to its original parking slot. Then, I find myself two needles so that I can insert them into the seat. Three days later, when I'm working the night shift at the hospital, a nurse rushes in hurriedly. "Dr. Hart, there's a male patient in the ER right now. He claims that his crotch was stabbed by needles when he was riding his bike earlier."

My fiancé goes missing after a grand and lavish engagement party. He leaves nothing but a letter behind. It states that his childhood sweetheart has a terminal illness—her only wish is to see the aurora. On the day he returns to the country, I visit him, wanting to call off the engagement. Ivana Jennings stands beside Jacob Gardner and weeps. "I'm sorry for putting you two in a tough spot, Ariel. I'll leave now. I'll never disturb you anymore!" Jacob stops her and shields her behind him. He looks at me frostily. "I'll kill you if you dare do anything to Ivana!" I sneer. "I don't deal with just about anyone for two reasons. Firstly, I don't want to dirty my hands. Secondly, I don't want to deal with rabid dogs."

On the day I was diagnosed with uremia, my husband asked me to donate a kidney to his one true love. I turned him down, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t expect him, my own husband, who was a doctor, to drag me to trial. The charge? Ingratitude. If found guilty, I would be executed on the spot, my kidney forcibly harvested, my soul condemned for eternity. But if the charges were dismissed, my husband would face immediate execution. His love would fall into ruin, plagued by illness and poverty. Everyone pressured me to confess. After all, when I nearly died in a car crash years ago, it was her blood transfusion that had pulled me back from the brink of death. But what they didn’t know was… I had been reborn. In my past life, I died never knowing my husband and his lover had orchestrated the car crash that nearly killed me. Now that I had returned, I would tear off their masks and expose their malice for all to see.