Wink Photo Booth

I had just gotten hospitalization prior to my operation when my wife told me she was going on an urgent business trip, leaving me and our one-year-old daughter behind. Two days later, her childhood sweetheart proudly posted a family photo on social media with a caption that said: “Took a picture of our happy family of three on our trip!” I looked at my wife who was smiling tenderly in the picture and commented, “?” My wife immediately called and berated me, “He's a single father who doesn’t have a wife to help take care of his child! All I did was take a picture with them, what are you being so defensive about?” That same evening, her childhood sweetheart posted a picture of a million-dollar dowry given to him with the caption: “After we took the picture, she insisted on giving me this as a dowry.” I knew my wife gave it to him to appease him. But this time, I was going to leave her for good.

My husband, Hank, is dead.  On our wedding anniversary, he ventured out in the pouring rain to buy me a cake, only to be hit by a truck. His body was badly mangled in the crash.  My sister-in-law, Lyra, called me a killer, claiming that I did not deserve Hank’s inheritance.  My mother-in-law, Judy, kicked me out of the house.  Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, I often wondered if he would still be alive had I stopped him that day. Eventually, emotions gripped me, and I was diagnosed with cancer.  Judy came to visit me on my deathbed. “You’re an idiot to believe everything!”  She threw a family photo in my face.  The shock and anger were more than I could handle, and I breathed my last.  It turned out that Hank was never dead. He had a child with his old flame.  When I opened my eyes once more, I returned to the day my husband faked his death.

I double over in pain after assisting Adrian Randall with a late-night operation. He immediately carries me to a ward to check on me. However, before he can do that, he receives a call from a patient and hurries off. That night, I miscarry. When I come out of the operating theater, I see his childhood friend's social media update. She's shared a photo of her baby bump. "He hurried to come to my side just because I was lost. You have to treat Adrian well in the future, my darling!" I rub my belly, which throbs with a dull ache. I don't cry and demand an explanation from Adrian as I would have in the past. Instead, I like the post and apply for a position on the Borderless Medical Assistance Program. The day I leave, the high and mighty Dr. Randall looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. He asks, "How can you bear to leave me behind?"

A saying had always been passed down in the Fendon Pack. Every male wolf in this world might betray his mate. However, Damon was the exception. As the current Alpha of the Fendon Pack, Damon was known for his cold discipline, absolute self-control, and unmatched strength. Everyone also knew that when he was young, he had already given his whole heart to his fated mate, Yuna. But five years after they completed their mating mark ceremony, Yuna received photos of him cheating. The moment she saw them, her entire body went rigid. In the photo, Damon was draping his coat over another woman’s shoulders. However, the woman beside him wasn't a noble-blooded she-wolf. She wasn't one of the pack’s powerful warriors either. Vera was just a divorced human who ran a small flower shop in the Neutral Zone. Yet the way Damon looked at her held a love and tenderness that ran deep into his bones.

Lena Hayes knows exactly who she likes, and it’s not Adrian Hale. But when a daring photo meant for her long-time crush accidentally lands in the hands of his reckless, infuriating younger brother, her carefully controlled life is thrown into chaos. Adrian isn’t just mischievous; he’s magnetic, unpredictable, and entirely too aware of the effect he has on Lena. He proposes a deal to: she’ll play his fake girlfriend to keep an ex-girlfriend off his back, and in return, he’ll help her get noticed by the boy she’s been crushing on for five years. What could go wrong? Almost everything. From stolen moments in hallways to charged locker-room encounters, their playful scheme quickly spirals into something neither of them can ignore. Lena wants control. Adrian wants more than a deal. And suddenly, the wrong brother might be exactly the right one if she’s willing to risk her heart, her plan, and her five-year-long crush on someone else.

My wife, Celina Buckley, is a violinist. I've wooed her for five years before she finally agrees to date me. After our marriage, Celina insists on staying child-free for the sake of her career. Left without a choice, I can only poke a few holes in the condoms. Finally, Celina gets pregnant, and with twins, too! Delighted, I make all preparations to welcome the new members of my family into my life. But I accidentally stumble across a photo of a pregnancy report posted on the social media feed belonging to Leo Kolcheck, Celina's senior at work. "Thank you for fulfilling my wish to become a father, Celina. I can't wait to meet my twins!" I feel as though I got struck by lightning. At that moment, I feel like a complete joke. While Celina is at Leo's birthday party, I begin packing up. I make sure that I've taken all of my belongings with me. All that's left is the divorce agreement on the table.

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

After five years of marriage, my wife’s childhood friend posted a photo of a property deed in his social media circle with the caption, [Thank you, Miss CEO, for transferring the house to me.] I was stunned when I saw the address on the deed—it was my home. Confused, I left a comment. [?] Almost immediately, my wife, Alice, called and scolded me. "He’s a single dad, so pitiful! I only transferred the house to his name to make it easier for his daughter to attend school. It doesn’t affect us living there. How can you be so heartless and lack even a shred of compassion?" In the background, I could hear her childhood friend complaining bitterly. Half an hour later, he posted on social media again and tagged me. This time, he showed off a $150,000 sports car with the caption, [Paid in full! As the saying goes, where a woman spends her money is where her heart lies.] I knew it was my wife who bought him the car to make up for upsetting him. But this time, I’ve made up my mind—I’m filing for divorce.

They call me 'Ghost.' The king of mercenaries, feared across the entire black market. But for Madeline, the Godmother of the Chicago Mafia, I walked away from it all. She wanted me by her side, so I became a normal man. We were married for five years. The entire underworld knew she loved me more than life itself. She even had my dagger tattooed next to her family's crest—a permanent mark of loyalty. Until I got the photo from her lover. The bartender was naked, his chest covered in red scratches from her nails. Madeline’s hand, with its red polish, was still on his waist. He’d drawn his name right next to my dagger on her skin. And my wife had let him. "Madeline says I'm the only one who can make her feel like a woman. You can't satisfy her anymore. It's time to make way for a younger man." I didn't reply. I just made a call. "Hello. I need a new identity. And a plane ticket."

Three years into marriage, he treated her badly, while treating Charlotte like a treasure. He neglected her, their marriage feeling like a prison. Ella endured it all because she deeply loved George! Until she received a photo from Charlotte, when everything became clear to her. With a heavy heart, Ella coolly signed the papers... She then took off the apron of a virtuous housewife, and put on the crown of a queen, ruling the world. Returning once more to her rightful place as a billionaire heiress and a skilled doctor, she was no longer George's wife, but a powerful woman in her own right. Her ex-husband insisted, "Mrs. Wickham, I haven't signed yet! You can't be with anyone else!" Ella smiled faintly, "Mr. Wickham, we have no relationship anymore!" His eyes slightly red, the man trembled as he spoke the vows from their wedding day, "I will never divorce you!" The Divorced Female Billionaire Heiress is created by Eva TaleSmith, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.