Novel & Cerita Stepped Unscramble

A trending tag read: "Emil Carson's mistress is pregnant." On my birthday, he came home with a woman who had a slightly visible baby bump. "Caprice is pregnant. I need to make sure she and the baby are properly taken care of. I’ll need you to cooperate. For now, we’ll go through a temporary divorce. Don’t worry. Once the baby is born, we’ll get married again." I did not cry or make a scene. I proceeded with the divorce from Emil. When we stepped out of the city hall, he expressed in a pleased manner, "Just stay low and keep to yourself. I'll contact you after Caprice gives birth." Then, his tone suddenly became threatening. "But if you cause any kind of trouble for Caprice, you can give up on any chance of remarrying me." I nodded quietly. However, I waited until they had their second baby, and yet there did not seem to be any initiative on his part to remarry me. It did not matter anymore. I was about to give birth to twins—a son and a daughter. Just like Emil, I was going to become a parent of two. If anything, I was afraid of him barging back into my life and disturbing my peace. After all, I now have a partner who has a particular streak of jealousy.

Amy Lacey and I were sworn enemies—stuck in a marriage neither of us wanted. She blamed me for ruining her last chance with her childhood sweetheart, Bryan Gurley. I hated her for sliding a separation agreement across the table on our wedding night. Seven years together. We both wished the other dead. The day I finally decided to divorce her, our private plane started going down. She grabbed the only parachute and strapped it around my waist. "Isaac Irving, if you die, how are you supposed to pay me back for the years I wasted on you?" The parachute snapped open. Then the explosion hit—and her last words cut through it. "Next life, don't come bother me again." Later, the rescue team pulled her burned body from the wreckage. In her arms was the love token Bryan had given her. That night, divorce papers in hand, I stepped off a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amy ran to the airport to win Bryan back. This time, I let her go without a second thought. In this life, I set her free. From here on out, we'd walk our own roads—owing each other nothing.

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

Years ago, I, Ella Marin, became the wife of Andrew Lorenzo, the underboss of the Lorenzo family. Sadly, my last three years were spent in prison after I caused a fatal car accident. I heard plenty of “good news” about my husband while I did my time. Andrew had officially taken over the Lorenzo family once the Don had stepped down. He then spent a fortune on a woman called Rose Gunfire and was rumored to have had a one-night stand with a rival. He was also seen acting intimately with Sophia, the Principessa of the Rossi family, and private photos of them kept appearing online. When the underboss came to warn me about Andrew, I remained calm. “The Don says that as long as you don’t cry or make a scene, you’ll still have a place in the Lorenzo family after your release.” I replied quietly, “So he has women on the side. I can handle that.” Three days before that, the church’s hospital had called to tell me that my mother was terminally ill. Since the Lorenzo family could help find a kidney donor, I agreed to a marriage in name only. All for my mother’s sake.

Daphne Harper spent three years believing she was the beloved wife of Vincent Carter, sacrificing everything to support the man she loved and the child she thought was hers. Until the day she discovered the truth. Their marriage was never legal. The little boy she raised with unconditional love was not her son. And Vincent already had a real wife—Rumbidzai Carter—the woman who had been laughing behind Daphne’s back the entire time. Heartbroken and humiliated, Daphne walks away from the life she built with nothing but shattered trust. But fate has one last surprise waiting for her. When a powerful billionaire reveals the secret Daphne’s mother took to her grave, her world changes overnight. The woman they once treated as disposable is actually the hidden heiress to one of the largest fortunes in the country. Now, Daphne returns stronger, richer, and untouchable. As Vincent and Rumbidzai desperately try to crawl back into her life, Daphne has already stepped into a new world of power, wealth, and influence—one where a dangerous and enigmatic billionaire, Brian Adrian, seems far too interested in her. This time, Daphne Harper isn’t the woman being deceived. She’s the one holding the power. And revenge has never looked so elegant.

She stepped into the role to save her family… and walked straight into a trap. Mira Chen never imagined her own best friend would sell her out. When Victoria begged her to pose as a billionaire’s girlfriend for a week just until she returned from an emergency Mira said yes. She needed the money. Her father was drowning in medical debt. And the job sounded simple enough. But nothing about it was real. Especially not the part where Victoria *never planned to come back.* Now, Mira is stuck playing pretend with Tyler Dalton a cold, calculating billionaire with eyes like ice and a temper as sharp as his tailored suits. He believes Mira’s part of the game. Another liar. Another woman using him. And he intends to use her right back. Except Mira isn’t who he thinks she is. And the more she fights back, the more Tyler wants her for real. As the web of lies closes in and the truth behind Victoria’s betrayal is exposed, Mira is left with no one to trust… except the man who was supposed to be her biggest enemy. But falling for Tyler might be the most dangerous mistake of all. Because in his world, love is a weapon. And Mira just became the perfect target. She was only supposed to fake it. Now the lies are real… and so is the heartbreak.

It had been six years since Vincent Castellano was declared dead in that “car crash”, and I was still alone. My friends kept nagging me to move on. Even in my dreams, Vincent was there, begging me to stop living in the past. So I finally caved and agreed to a blind date with Leo Christopher, the guy who’d been chasing me for years. I’d decided I’d make a clean break with Vincent once and for all on the Day of the Dead. But the second I stepped out of the cemetery, a billboard for a luxury brownstone in Brooklyn Heights caught my eye. It was the exact place Vincent had been obsessed with back when I thought he was alive. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was heading straight for it. What I saw that day is seared into my brain for the rest of my life. There, on the bench outside the house, sat Vincent. The man was laid to rest in the Castellano family crypt. And he had his arm around another woman. That woman? Mia Rossi. The card dealer he’d been screwing behind my back six years prior. The same one I’d caught him red-handed with, the one I’d made him fire from the family casino.

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

The whole wolf pack knew I was Alpha Nick’s fated mate—chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. But the second I stepped into Brown Pack territory with my suitcase in hand— His mother, Mrs. Johnson, ordered the maids to spray me with wolfsbane. His cousin, Enna, "accidentally" put me in *his* bedroom. And his childhood sweetheart, Rina, slapped a ten-million-dollar check in my face, demanding I publicly renounce this "joke of a mating bond." Even Alpha Nick himself—the ruthless legend of the pack—spent the first night wrapped around me like a damn octopus, only to kick me out coldly the next morning: *"Get out. Don’t come back to my room again."* When I was framed for theft, forced to work overtime till midnight, or locked inside a pitch-black office mid-panic attack… My *"fiancé"* was too busy grinding on Rina at some high-society ball. Then the truth about me dropped— Brown Pack’s elders dropped to their knees, trembling. Rina ripped her knockoff Luara gown in rage. And Alpha Nick, eyes bloodshot, pinned me against the wall: *"Wendy… you played me."* I smirked, peeling his fingers off me. *"Sorry, Alpha. The three-month contract’s up."* *"Now… call me by my real title—heir of White Moon Pack."*

Jason Schwartz had been a close friend of my father's, despite the age gap. The year I met him, I was fearless, the kind of girl who thought nothing could touch her. I bit down hard on the hand he offered me. Jason just laughed. "You're adorable," he said. "Like a little wolf." On my 18th birthday, he shoved me onto the bed, his eyes red, as if he had been holding back for years. "Diana, I've finally waited long enough for you to grow up." He was the one who pulled me into that first flutter of desire, the one who led me across every line I wasn't supposed to cross. I grew into exactly the kind of girl he wanted. The day my father was hacked to death by his enemies, Jason took my hand and stepped into his place without hesitation. When I was pregnant, he brought home a girl covered in blood. "Diana, she's not like you. She's like wild grass, tough and stubborn." He said he admired wild grass. But he forgot something. He was the one who raised me into a rose that only knew the shelter of a greenhouse. Good thing I didn't need him anymore.