Three Years After They Abandoned Me

He divorced her. That was two years ago. She was shopping with her best friend when she felt a blinding sort of pain before losing consciousness. She woke up at the hospital and saw her parents and Albert Matthews, her ex-husband, and the man who can cover the sky with one hand in S City, talking to the doctor. She has a disease - and they said she's dying in three days. This is her sixth day now. She died in his watch, wishing that in her next life, she would still be his wife -- and the gods favored her.

Elijah Morris has been fooling around for four out of the five years we've been married. And from the very first month, he openly betrays me. Meanwhile, I spend my time warding people off with expensive contracts, one after another. Eventually, all that's left between us is constant fighting. One day, his younger stepsister, Abigail Wright, returns. And just like that, he finally settles down. That's when the system tells me that I can finally go home. For the next five days, I no longer ask about his schedule. I don't care if he is with Abigail, nor do I care if she is pregnant with his child. I even move out of the master bedroom myself, listening to them going at it all night. The fifth day after Abigail's return is our wedding anniversary. Elijah bursts into the room, tears up our marriage certificate in front of me, and smashes my most treasured vase into pieces. He grips my throat tightly and growls, "Why did you put mango in Abby's cake? She's allergic, and she almost died! How could you be so cruel?" For the first time, I don't argue with him. Instead, I go along with his accusations. "So what?" I then pick up a shard from the broken vase on the floor under his disbelieving gaze. Then, I draw it across my artery. Just like that, I end my life in this world.

On my sweet sixteen, my three brothers came home with a girl named Sylvie. They said I have to treat her like my family. I didn’t think much would change. But years later, everything did. Jace, my youngest brother, shoved me down the stairs for her. Asher—the oldest, who once promised he'd protect me forever—told me to get out. So I left. Quietly. They thought I was just acting out. So they took Sylvie to France, didn't even bothering to check in What they didn’t know was that I’d signed my name on a contract—one that aligned me with our family’s biggest rival by becoming their youngest chemist. Written in black and white, I could never go home again. The night they found out I was really gone for good? They broke. Every last one of them.

Born beneath the Blood Eclipse, I carry two curses: a soul that burns my mate alive and a bond that only ends in death. Born under a cursed moon, I was destined to destroy my mate. He rejected me. The next day, my parents sold me to a monster. Now I’m trapped in a loveless marriage, carrying a child I can’t explain, and pulled into a second bond with the one man my first mate calls brother. Everyone wants to control me. No one sees the storm I’m becoming. ~ “I let you go to save you, Avelyn.” Rhett muttered, with a lowered gaze. “No,” I whispered, voice trembling. “You let me go because you were terrified I’d destroy you.”

After losing everything she holds dear, Lena stands at a crossroads—trust her nemesis or embrace her hero. Two men, two paths and one life-changing choice. Which will she choose?

My fiance is the best Neuro Healer among the werewolves. His first love is his little stepsister, who once took a fatal silver arrow for him. Now, her old condition has flared up, and she has a fatal silver venom disease. She only has 21 days left to live. In order to stay with her in her final days, he pours his newly developed "Memory Lock Potion" into me to eliminate all my memories of him by force. He says, "It's just 21 days. Once she's gone, I'll feed you the antidote myself, and you'll remember me again." In those 21 days, he holds a grand bonding ceremony for his stepsister, dances with her during the Moon Goddess Festival, and makes an oath swearing that they will become mates again in their next life. Finally, he sends her off. After 21 days, the potion wears off, and he kneels in the rain with tears and blood all over his face. He asks hoarsely in an accusing tone, "The potion only lasts for 21 days… why have you forgotten me completely?" I just look up impassively at him. "Sorry, but who are you?"

“I need your help to fake a private jet crash,” I said quietly. “It’s the only way I can ever leave Luca Moretti.” People said he’d given up the Mafia throne for me. They called him the man who traded power for love— the heir who walked away from blood and gold just to marry a waitress from the slums. For years, he made the world believe in us. He built empires under my name. He sent me roses every Monday. He told the press I was his salvation. But love doesn’t always mean loyalty. While I was busy believing in forever, he was building a second home behind my back— one filled with laughter, toys, and twin sons who had his eyes. The night I disappeared, his empire burned. He tore apart cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive just to find me. But by the time he did— I was already gone. And the woman he’d once died for no longer loved him enough to stay alive.

"Some loves are written in the stars. Others are carved in sin." Sophia Chen never met her stepfather; she was too busy living her dream abroad to attend her mother's wedding. Two years later she returns home exhausted and broken from a failed relationship, the man who opens the door isn't just her mother's husband. He's everything she never knew she needed. Marcus Reid is hot, tall, intelligent, and trapped in a loveless marriage with a woman who sees him as nothing more than a convenience. The moment he meets Sophia, something shifts inside him, something dangerous, something he can never act on. For months, they orbit each other in agonizing silence. Late-night conversations. Stolen glances. A tension so thick it threatens to suffocate them both. Marcus struggles against thoughts that invade his most intimate moments with his wife, while Sophia battles a desire that grows stronger every day. Then Diane asks for a divorce. Six months later, they bump into each other again, no longer bound by marriage, no longer forbidden by law. Just two people who've denied a burning desire for too long. But freedom comes with a price. Because Diane didn't just leave Marcus for another man. She left because she knew. She'd watched them fall for each other in real time. She'd heard Marcus moan Sophia's name in their bed. And now that they're finally together, she's going to make sure they pay for every stolen moment, every forbidden thought, every lie they told themselves. Some secrets destroy families. Some loves are worth the ruin.

Everyone in Ieplad knows Leopoldo Vece, the Don of the Vece family, loves guns but not women—until me. Ten years into our marriage, my adoptive father, Raffaello Conti, lies dying of kidney failure. Leopoldo launches a global hunt for a donor, sparing no expense to save him. He finds her—a young, fragile woman—and spends millions solving her every problem to ensure she is ready for the transplant. On the day of the surgery, she vanishes. I rush to her home in a panic, only to find my husband holding her gently in his arms, soothing her in a soft voice. "If you're afraid of the pain, don't donate then. I'll find another donor." "Is there time?" she asks quietly. "I heard Lucia's adoptive father is at death's door." Leopoldo brushes his hand over her hair, his voice indulgent. "I'll search the world again if I have to. You're still young; this burden isn't yours to carry." As my heart shatters, my phone rings. I answer numbly. The person on the other end of the line says, "Signora Conti, we regret to inform you that Raffaello Conti just passed away. We waited as long as we could for the donor, but his body gave out five minutes ago." I return to the hospital and handle the funeral arrangements alone. After that, I call Marianna D'Andrea, the Don's mother, and say, "I agree to divorce Leopoldo. Please help me disappear."

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."