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I was about to get married to the leader of ‘Decease’, the heftiest mafia gang of Albania next week. Nonetheless, things up when I ended up having a one-night-stand with a stranger just a night before my engagement. No! It wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened with me. It shuddered me from the core when I witnessed my would-be husband in the ceremony. Yes. He turned out to be the one I slept with. “I don’t wanna get married to a girl who sleeps with guys a night before her engagement,” that’s what he said to my grandfather. ~~~~ “Be my submissive,” a month later I offered him and he shook his head in agreement, unable to reject it. ~ The only thing Abraham Harris never wanted was to fall in love with Amayra. The only thing Amayra Mehta wanted was to destroy Abraham beyond repair. Will they ever succeed or destiny will play its role against their goal?

On the bed in a train's compartment, I find myself getting pinned beneath my best friend's boyfriend, Gaston Walters. Our bodies are firmly glued to each other. I don't have any strength left in me, so I can only let Gaston do whatever he wants to me. Soon, I feel him turning me on. My husband, Stevie Murray's loud snores drift from the bunk bed above our heads. That's when Gaston slowly slides his hand beneath my blanket before hiking my nightgown upward. "Wow, you're so wet…"

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On the night that was meant to bind them forever, Avelyn Cross was handed divorce papers instead of a vow. Married to billionaire tycoon Cassian Blackridge in what she believed was a marriage of growing love, Avelyn discovers the truth too late she was never his choice. She was a substitute, a convenient bride filling space until the woman who owned his heart returned. Humiliated in her wedding dress and discarded before the night could end, Avelyn signs the divorce and disappears from Cassian’s world without tears, pleas, or explanations. What Cassian never expects is the silence she leaves behind. As Avelyn rebuilds her life from the ashes of betrayal, she sheds the identity of a disposable wife and rises into a woman of power, independence, and quiet fire. The fragile girl Cassian once ignored becomes someone the world cannot overlook. Years later, fate forces their paths to cross again. Cassian, now haunted by regret and haunted by the emptiness her absence carved into his life, realizes too late that the woman he discarded was the only one who ever truly loved him. But Avelyn has learned the cost of loving without being chosen and she is no longer willing to pay it. When buried secrets surface, past lies unravel, and an unexpected truth binds them once more, Cassian must confront the consequences of his cruelty and fight not just for forgiveness but for a second chance he may not deserve. In a world of power, pride, and broken promises, Divorced on Our Wedding Night is a slow-burn story of betrayal, transformation, and redemption where love must survive regret, and forgiveness must be earned, not begged for.

After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out. I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat. But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage. The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying. The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive. [She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!] [No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!] The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me. The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir. Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer. It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love. To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.

George Sunther doesn't show up on the day we're supposed to get engaged. His family is nowhere to be seen either. Mom's and Dad's faces become increasingly darker as our relatives whisper disapprovingly. I'm about to contact George when I see a social media update from Winona Sunther, the Sunther family's adopted daughter. "From today onward, we're siblings and also spouses." A photo of her and George decked out in wedding attire while holding each other close is attached. Later, I find George, and he says guiltily, "Winnie is pregnant out of wedlock, and her boyfriend has made a run for it. I have to marry her first so that her reputation remains untainted. It's all so she can have the baby without any hitches." I'm stunned. The invitations for our wedding have already been sent out! George wraps an arm around my waist, his tone as gentle as always. "I'll marry you once the baby is born, okay? You're the only woman I'll call my wife, Mary. You have to trust me." I look into his eyes, which I had once loved with all my heart. My heart twists painfully. He's always like this. He always tells me I have to be more tolerant and magnanimous when it comes to Winona because she's his sister. I watch as he leaves in a hurry after answering a call from Winona. Then, I stop hesitating and call my parents. "Mom, is the Zowski family still up for a wedding?"

Can my life get any worse than it already has? I have a stepfather who cares about nothing but turning me into his source of money and pleasure, and a mother who doesn't give a damn whether I live or die. I thought this was the end, but no—fate decided to gamble with me last Christmas. It all started after a failed birthday celebration, which was followed by my stepdad trying to sell me out to the highest bidder. Escaping such a tragic event landed me in the arms of a ruthless billionaire boss, Maximum. I thought it couldn't get worse than this until I finally discovered that my biological dad is back. And his archenemy is the man I am in love with.

My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames. Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated. Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills. Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married. On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice. "If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!" Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire. For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time. To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.

My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world. As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable. Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldn’t get any worse, my husband's first love returned—on the very same day. That night, the man I’d been married to for years didn’t come home. The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent. “I’ve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?” I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. “I’m still at the hospital.” He didn’t even pause. “I don’t care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.” My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. “As you wish, Lucian.” What he didn’t know was that I was dying—literally. A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing. Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart. But it was too late, my love. This time, you’ll never see me again.