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Eliza's life was destroyed by them: her boyfriend and her best friend. Five years ago, her boyfriend's career was at its lowest point and Eliza sacrificed everything to support him. However, her best friend fooled Eliza to be a surrogate mother. When her boyfriend led a successful career, he dumped Eliza because she had lost her virginity and had babies. It was just an excuse for the affair between the shameless couple. Losing all interest in life, she agreed to marry Mr. Valentine, a disfigured billionaire who likes to torture women in bed. It was said that his two exes died horribly in bed. Eliza didn't know that Mr. Valentine was the man she used to carry babies for. In this way, she got a handsome husband and a pair of adorable twins...

The day of the verdict, Simon—my fiancé—begged me to take the deal. "I know you're innocent, but Nancy's pregnant. I can't let her go to jail." Tears. Fake concern. "This is for your own good," he said, holding my hand. I signed it. In my last life, I refused—and paid for it with prison, torture, and infertility. This time? I played along. By morning, headlines screamed I'd stolen trade secrets. Nancy? Front and center. "Yeah, it was her. I saw her sneak into Johnston Group with my own eyes!" But when court opened that afternoon, Clark—yes, the plaintiff—stepped up and dropped the case. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee, and said, "Heidi Wynn, this time... will you marry me?"

In the uncompromising tough game of life. Valerie's half-brother betrays her for a token. Desperate to save his own head, after signing a ridiculously dangerous and risky deal at the expense of the only family he has left, selling her into the hive of the merciless Mafia lord, El Macho. The same one every being feared. Her impurity is crushed and bruised and her existence crashing in Shackles with the twinkle of an eye condemning her to a life of unbearable torture and torment. Pinned down in a painful world, she endures the tortures of a cruel man. Valarie soon finds rest and warmth in the arms of Macho's only brother, Carlos but their forbidden affair and attraction sets ablaze a once blooming relationship between two brothers. Now, they are on the run, a plan must be made to escape wrath, war and death.

Ever since her parent's death, all Violetta had to face was bullying, torture, and abuse from her father's best friend, and his family who had taken her in after their execution. Framed and locked up for a crime she didn't commit, Violetta faced a brutal death at the hands of her best friend, and at the point of death, she requested a second chance at life. The moon goddess grants her request by sending her back three years before the incident that ruined her life completely. What happens when the weak, all-to-emotional Violetta changes into a daring and sassy she-wolf? What happens when the man who caused her so much pain suddenly wants her back? Without even realizing it, she's caught the attention of another powerful werewolf.

Trigger Warning: abuse, violence, torture, sexual violence. Echo has known only pain for the last ten years. Being treated as a pack slave, she has cooked, cleaned, and worked harder than anyone she knows. Her reward for her efforts? Days without food and non-stop abuse from everyone in the pack. To make matters worse, one of her biggest tormentors is also completely obsessed with her. She has never known anyone in the pack to show her an ounce of kindness. When a visiting alpha from a neighboring pack turns out to be her fated mate, her life may hang in the balance. Will he be her saving grace, or will he reject her for her weakness? Will she ever escape the abuse? If so, can she escape the clutches of the powerful man who believes she belongs to him?

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

I happen to come across a popular post regarding a company's finance department on social media. "Seriously, that person in the sales department is such an idiot! All I wanted was to claim reimbursement under her name for the bag I bought, and yet she still refused! "Since she doesn't want me to reimburse my bag, then she can forget about reimbursing everything! This time, I'll teach her a lesson about what happens when she offends a member of the finance department!" There are many bashing comments in the comment section, but the original poster doesn't care at all. She continues adopting a haughty tone. "What am I scared of? The finance department is extremely vital to the company! I refuse to believe that the boss has the courage to offend me, the most important person alive, just to stand up for a sales employee who's easily replaceable!" As I stare at the familiar profile picture belonging to the original poster, I can't help but mentally sneer. She wants to suspend all of my reimbursements, huh? Go ahead, then! This time, I'd like to see what the consequences are for offending a member of the finance department!

In the third year of my marriage, I endure a full day of painful labor to give birth to my first child. However, my husband steals the baby to give to his true love. I try my damnedest to stop him, but all I get is a barrage of insults. "It's just a baby! I'm the one who planted the seed, so I get to decide who gets the fruit!" I'm overwhelmed by grief as I watch my husband leave. However, he shares a happy post on his social media. "Mother and daughter are safe." His true love comments, "Thank you for giving me a child, Jaspie. I'll be the happiest woman in the world with you two by my side." Clueless friends bless them and wish them well. I silently comment, "Give me back my child." All I get is another round of insults. Then, I'm blocked. I don't want to endure this anymore. I hire a lawyer to draft divorce papers before making a police report. "Officer, I want to report my husband for child trafficking."

Le jour de notre dixième anniversaire de mariage, mon ancienne meilleure amie a posté une photo. Sur l’image, sa fille et mon fils, chacun dans les bras de mon mari et d’elle. Tous les quatre serrés ensemble. La légende disait : « Une belle famille avec un fils et une fille. » J’ai commenté en dessous : « Très assortis. » La publication a disparu aussitôt. Le lendemain, mon mari a déboulé à la maison, furieux : « Sophie commençait juste à se sentir mieux, pourquoi tu l’as provoquée ? » Mon fils m’a poussée, plein de reproches : « C’est de ta faute ! Tu as fait pleurer ma petite sœur Cécile ! » J’ai sorti les papiers du divorce et les leur ai balancés au visage : « Ouais, tout est de ma faute. Alors je me casse. Profitez bien de belle famille à quatre. »