Squidward Begging

My stepbrother hated me. He hated me and my mom for coming into his life, for ruining what he believed was his perfect family. Whenever he saw me, his face would turn cold, and he would tell me how disgusting I was, asking cruelly when I was going to die. In the end, I gave him what he wanted. But then he regretted it. He cried, begging me to come back, saying he never should have broken up with me and never should have treated me so cruelly. But I was already dead. Who was he putting on this show of affection for now?

On their third wedding anniversary, Ava's life takes a heartbreaking turn when she discovers her husband's shocking betrayal: he’s been having an affair with her stepsister, Autumn. Devastated and feeling lost, Ava realizes the love she gave him was met with betrayal and deceit. Now pregnant and facing heartbreak, she decides to file for divorce. Just when she thinks she can finally move on, Jerome, her ex-husband, returns, begging for a second chance and claiming he was just a pawn in Autumn's cruel game. Will Ava take a leap of faith and give love another shot, or is it time to close the door on the past for good?

My in-laws were hit by a car crash. I called my husband, begging him to give me some money to pay the hospital bill. He said, "Oh, if you want money, just come out with it. That excuse is terrible!" He hung up on me. Despite how unfair it felt, I had to call him again. This time, a voice I was familiar with hit my ears. A woman's voice. "Chris, I got a bit too much sunscreen on my hand. Can I smear the rest on your abs?" Lovingly, my husband said, "You little troublemaker." His parents died that night. Overseas.

“The daughter of Alaric Blackstone. How dare you deceive me?” Rejected for my bloodline, I faced a harsh truth: the man who once held me tenderly now looked at me with hatred. Marked as the shameful Omega daughter of an Alpha, I thought the mate bond was my salvation—only to find it was my curse. Forced into marriage by my father as a bargaining chip, I made a decision to escape the torment and leave behind those who betrayed me. Years later, when I finally found peace, my mate returned, begging for forgiveness. However, after enduring all the pain he caused me, can I truly forgive him?

It took me five years after my son was born to finally realize the truth—he never loved us. To end this painful marriage, I decided to take my son and leave. But fate played a cruel trick on us. During a rogue attack, I lost my wolf spirit, and my son lost an eye. Just as I was drowning in despair, my usually cold and distant husband knelt before everyone, begging for forgiveness and swearing he’d be our rock for life. So, my son and I gave him a chance—a 100-day trial. If he proved himself, we’d stay. But on the 99th day... fate shattered everything again.

My fiancé's secretary had my wedding ring remade into a Hello Kitty trinket. When I confronted her, she twisted the truth with shameless arrogance, insisting that my wedding was hers to decide. I turned to my fiancé for support, only to have him dismiss me as petty and unworthy of being his bride. Together, they ridiculed and humiliated me, unaware that their families' power and future all depended on me. When my superior stepped in, their mockery collapsed in the face of truth. My fiancé fell to his knees, begging me to honor our engagement. But I cast him aside without hesitation, breaking off the marriage and leaving him with nothing.

A mysterious girl, known to be heartlessly cold, with a gun in her hand. Two criminals on the tip of her gunpoint, shivering and begging her for mercy, who used to be proud of their tremendous power. A secretive guy who fell in love with that girl and trusted her blindly, without knowing who she was. A child in the middle of the chaos to be protected and kept away from the fire of revenge. And a shadow secretly controlling the whole game and playing with their lives. The pawns are chosen and the war has begun. They're all trapped in this maze of secrets and revenge, holding each other at gunpoints. The maze gets more twisted with each step they take and the only thing that can get them out of there... is Death.

What would you do if you stumbled upon a bride crying her eyes out minutes before the wedding, begging you to help her escape? You help her, of course. What would you do if you stumbled upon a drunken guy being mugged in the dark alley later that night? You help him too, of course. What would you do when you discover he was the same guy left hanging at the altar earlier that day? You regret everything, of course. What would you do when you start seeing that same guy everywhere you go? You fall in love, of course.

My husband, a regiment commander, once promised me he'd only accompany his depressed first love ninety-nine times. But when I finally reached that ninety-ninth tally, I saw the two of them locked in a tight embrace. After that, I stopped crying and begging him not to go to her. I only asked him for a safety locket—a small blessing for our soon-to-be-born child. At the mention of the baby, his expression softened. "When I get back," he said gently, "I'll go with you to the hospital for the checkup." I nodded obediently. I didn't tell him that ten days earlier, I had already filed for divorce. Now, our divorce was final.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.