Prove Wrong Synonym Novels & Stories

I thought I was the Conti family's "legitimate wife." Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Christian, resting his hand on my stepsister Emma's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future. Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir." Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy. I didn't cry and didn't make a scene. I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment. Twenty-four hours later, Christian's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized— That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife. He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family. But what I really wanted to know was— When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

My ex-fiancé made me do a blood test the night before our wedding. The next day, he threw the genetic report on my face and dumped me over defective genes. The reason was that the Zimmer family only wanted perfect heirs, and he said that I was not worthy. He broke off the engagement, and instantly married the girl-next-door with perfect genes. Five years later, he reappeared in the hospital, clutching his ill son. He saw my daughter who had similar rashes, and he thought I had given birth to his daughter in secrecy. Little did he know that my daughter had nothing to do with him and only had a mild seafood allergy. I would not be defined by the so-called defective genes again, while me and my daughter live happily and healthily, it was their turn to be destroyed.

Louisa Forge didn’t choose this. She was handed over like a bargaining chip — marked by an Alpha she despises, installed in a pack house that doesn’t want her, bound to a man who locks her in her room and calls it mercy. Kaelen is everything a wolf shouldn’t be: cruel, reckless, and hungry for a power he hasn’t earned. But the pack house has another occupant. Julian — former Alpha, widower, a man who has been quietly starving himself to death since the loss of his mate — is supposed to be irrelevant. A ghost in the east wing. Instead he’s the one who checks on her in the night, who brings her sedatives for the pain, who laughs with her over terrible soup until the whole dining room forgets to be miserable. He’s also the one who tells her, very clearly, that what happened between them during her heat meant nothing. He’s lying. They both know it. Caught between a mate bond she never consented to and a connection she can’t name, Louisa is doing what she does best — surviving. She’s building alliances in quiet corners, winning loyalty one small kindness at a time, and carrying a secret that could burn everything to the ground. Because the heir Kaelen is so desperate to claim? It isn’t his.

After experiencing the betrayal of her fiancé with her best friend, Ashley's innocence was taken by a mysterious man. As a royal blood witch, she never expected to be involved with a werewolf, let alone he seemed to be an Alpha. Releasing her uncontrolled power and erasing her every trace, she left home with a broken heart. Five years later, she returned home with a baby. Happy and successful. Then, she met that mysterious man again. And he claimed that she belonged to him!

She got the surprise of her life on her Fiance's birthday which shattered her whole being completely. Seeing the love of her life banging her best friend, wasn't enough. She got expelled from school due to the sex tape her Fiance had released out of anger and pride for breaking up with him.Her reputation and that of her father is threatened, her business is crumbling and she has now become a laughing stock.To save her self from the shame that was looking around her existence, she had to accept the marriage contract.However, she got contracted to the wrong Alpha who ripped her existence apart.

“You are not going to disrespect me! She is a commoner, and I’d rather die than let you be with her!” Isaac’s father was very loud and his tone was threatening. “Then you better drop dead right now, because I’m sick of being caged by the standards and rules that this family has set for me! I’m sick of being a robot built for the sole purpose of being the heir to the Ford fortune!” Isaac spat the words in his father’s face.

Cleo Carrington used to be Northvale's brightest spark—wild, fearless, impossible to pin down. And then she married Damian Joubert. The most controlled, rigid heir in their world. Damian ran like a machine. Perfect standards. Zero slack. And he expected the same from his wife. Cleo loved noise—clubs, music, bodies moving. He had every venue in the city blacklist her. She loved freedom—the blazing Afriyan sun, the northern lights in Icelorn. She raced cars. She jumped out of planes. He took her passport. Shut it all down.

I was nineteen the first time Cole Whitfield broke me. Not with cruelty. With a single word. Why. Not did you — why. Like the answer was already settled and he just wanted the story to make sense. I told him the truth anyway. He said nothing that mattered. So I picked up my bag, walked out of his apartment, and decided that a man who trusted a rumor over two years of me wasn’t worth a correction. I spent the next two years becoming someone I actually liked. New city. Graduate program. A published paper with my name on it. I was done with Cole Whitfield in every way a person can be done. Then I walked into Seminar Room 114 and he was sitting right there, gray eyes already on the door, like some part of him knew. I sat down. I opened my notebook. I did not look up. Here’s the thing about studying how people form beliefs: you understand exactly why he believed it. That doesn’t mean you forgive it. That doesn’t mean two years of silence disappear because he’s learned how to look at you like he’s sorry. He wants a conversation. I want my degree. But the campus is small, the seminar table is round, and the boy who broke my heart at nineteen is doing everything right at twenty-one — and I’m starting to understand that composed isn’t the same thing as healed. I hate that I still know the exact sound of his voice.

Blurb **She's promised to his brother... but branded by his touch. And now the past refuses to stay buried.** *** **SIENNA** I thought I buried that night. The night I gave myself to a stranger. Reckless and wild. No names. No rules. No future. Just heat. Desperation. A body that made me forget who I was supposed to be. Now I wear his brother's ring. Planning a future with the man I'm supposed to love. Then he walks into my engagement party and everything shatters. Landon Callahan. The black sheep. The rebel. The man who touched me before I knew his name. He acts like I never existed. Like that night was nothing. But I remember every breath. Every broken rule. Every moment I came alive. I should walk away. Should marry Noah and forget. But Landon has always been the fire I was never meant to touch twice. *** ** **LANDON** She was never supposed to be his. The night I had her, I didn't ask her name. Didn't want to know. I just knew I'd never forget the way she looked at me. Like I was the only thing she ever wanted. Then I walk into the engagement party I should have skipped. And see her standing beside my brother. Now I'm back in the world I swore I'd left behind. And she's the one thing I can't outrun. She wears his ring. Smiles like she hasn't been in my bed. Pretends I never made her come undone. But I remember. And so does she. One night should have been the end. Instead it was only the beginning. Because I don't let go of what's mine. Not even for my brother.

My boyfriend, Dallas Clarke, had a pick-me girl constantly hanging around him named Olivia Phillips. She knew perfectly well that I had diabetes and could not eat high-sugar foods. Yet, during our hiking trip, she still managed to trick me into eating a high-sugar energy bar, which caused my blood sugar to spike. When I pulled out my insulin pen to inject myself, I discovered with horror that my medication had been replaced with saline solution. Seeing me collapsed on the ground, dry heaving uncontrollably, Olivia smirked in disdain. "You are always so dramatic. It's just sugar, you don't need to act like you're dying. That's why I told Dallas to switch your meds, because you needed to toughen up and build some stamina." I looked toward Dallas, my breathing already becoming labored. "Dallas, give me my medication. If I don't inject insulin soon, I'm going to die..." Dallas frowned slightly. "Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic? I've never heard of anyone dying from a bit of sugar. Olivia's right... You're such an attention seeker. We barely get together as a group, and here you are causing a scene." My heart sank, and I called Dad immediately. "Dad, I'm getting bullied, and I might die! Are you going to do something about it or not?"