Marrying The Wounded King: My Ex's Regret

Too Late, My Mafia Heir Ex

My fiancé of seven years, the heir to a mafia dynasty, claimed amnesia three weeks before our wedding, forgetting only me. Then I overheard him laughing on a video call, calling it the perfect "hall pass" to sleep with an influencer before he was tied down. He flaunted his affair, abandoned me with a broken arm after a staged car crash to save her from a scratch, and planned to leave me homeless. He called me his "property," a doll he could play with and put back on the shelf when he was done. He thought I’d be waiting for his "miraculous recovery." Instead, I disappeared, leaving behind his ring and a simple note: "I remember everything. Me too."

From Mafia Princess To Unbroken Queen

The man I gave up a twenty-billion-dollar inheritance for asked me to go to prison for his mistress. In the same breath, he told me to kill our unborn child. While his mother's actions caused me to miscarry our son in a derelict warehouse, he was on television announcing his engagement and *her* pregnancy. The betrayal wasn't just private; it was a public execution. So I picked up my phone and made a call I hadn't made in five years, to the one man he never knew existed. "Father," I choked out, "I need you."

She Refused to Get Back Together with the Guy She Loved

Lanny experienced his first overwhelming desire; in a haze, he ended up in bed with Belen. Over the next three years, though he never confessed his feelings, he became intensely obsessed with her body. Belen believed that with time she could win his heart, but instead received the news of him dating the other girl. "I've been pursuing her for a long time, and she finally agreed to be my girlfriend," Lanny said, looking into her eyes. "Let's not keep in touch anymore." Belen granted his wish and disappeared completely. But Lanny regretted his decision, desperately searching the world for her. He knelt before her in abject humility and pleaded, "Belen, come back to me, please?"

The Fake Death Plot

The ninety-ninth time I tried to kill myself, I was sent to the hospital. For seven long years, I had lived in a fog of grief, believing my husband, Ethan, had died in a fiery car crash. But then, in that sterile white room, I saw him. Ethan. Alive, vibrant, and kissing Olivia Hayes, his former sister-in-law, who cradled a prominent baby bump. Their child. In that instant, the truth crashed down on me. There was no crash, no death. He had abandoned me to elope with Olivia, living a happy life while I wasted away: my hair turning gray, my wrist scarred with 300 marks for every missed month, while he cried with joy over her pregnancy. My world went black. When I came to, I was back in time, seven days before our first wedding anniversary. Ethan stood before me, his eyes filled with intoxicating adoration, murmuring sweet words. Yet, the image of him kissing Olivia, the name "Olivia Hayes" flashing on his phone, burned in my mind. He left me to check on her, claiming she was unwell, while I knew the truth. I was blindsided by my trust. I thought of what he put me through, what he planned to do to me. The betrayal felt like a gaping wound. I looked at him, then called my brother, David. "I want to come live with you abroad," I said, my voice cold. "And David, could you please help me arrange something? I need a body. A fake one. I want to give it to Ethan on our wedding anniversary. Seven days from now."

His Wife, The Starved Dog

The screen on Ethan's phone glowed, showing a missed video call from his sister, Sarah. He swiped to check the voicemail, but it wasn't a message; the call had connected, and his phone had recorded what happened next. The shaky video revealed his sister' s office, but a woman he didn't recognize, Jessica Riley, sat in Sarah's chair, laughing with his brother-in-law, Mark Thompson, as they mocked Sarah's supposed foolishness. Then the camera moved, revealing Sarah herself, curled on the floor, her hair matted, clothes in rags, a metal chain around her neck, and an empty dog bowl beside her. Jessica cooed, "Time for dinner, sweetie," kicking the bowl, while Mark dropped bread, saying, "Eat up, doggy." Ethan watched in horror as his brilliant sister scrambled for food like a starved animal. A cold rage seized him, cracking his phone screen, and with a dangerously calm voice, he called his assistant: "Get the jet. We're going home. Now." Landing in the US, Ethan found his childhood home overgrown and dreary. Kicking the door open, he discovered Sarah chained to a radiator, skeletal and terrified, whimpering at his approach. This was his sister, treated like an animal in her own home. Mark, Brenda, and Jessica appeared, feigning concern, claiming Sarah was "unstable" and producing forged medical diagnoses, trying to dismiss the horrific scene with a piece of paper. Ethan' s control finally snapped. He knew Sarah' s strength, her intelligence; this cruelty was inflicted upon her. He watched as Mark, arrogant and unrepentant, tried to silence Sarah's weak confession of forced signatures. When Mark raised a hand to strike her, Ethan intervened, his grip like steel, "Don't you ever touch her again." Mark spouted lies, accusing Sarah of ruining the company, blaming her for the bruises and injuries that covered her body. The scene escalated as Ethan, blood boiling, called his assistant, David, who arrived with a team of men. He ordered Mark, Brenda, and Jessica secured, stating, "You are a parasite, Mark. And you own nothing," before hitting him. Mark, still defiant, claimed control of Hayes Innovations and the board. Ethan calmly directed David to search the house for evidence, then gently unclipped Sarah, scooping her into his arms. She was light as a child, trembling, whispering, "He'll hurt you. He'll hurt us both." Ethan vowed, "He has no idea what I'm capable of." He saw the raw marks on her neck, fueled by fresh fury. Sarah huddled in his jacket, whispering how Mark had gaslighted her with fake videos. Ethan knew the videos were lies. Kneeling, he gently told her, "We're going to your office." When she panicked, terrified of Jessica, he reassured her, "It's time for everyone to see the real CEO of Hayes Innovations." With a flicker of her old self, an almost imperceptible nod, she agreed. He left the villains secured, telling David to find every piece of evidence they had used against her. Holding Sarah's hand, he led her out, ready to fight.

My Identity Was Stolen

The last thing I felt was the pillow smothering my face, the cheap floral scent filling my lungs as my struggles grew weaker. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Ms. Davis' s chilling hiss: "You crazy girl, how dare you disrupt the young lady' s party! I' ll kill you!" She wasn' t lying. My life, so bright just hours before, was ending in a dark, dusty storage room. It all began on my graduation day, Sarah Miller, the valedictorian, standing on stage. But when I arrived at my family home for the lavish celebration, the doors were shut, my key wouldn' t turn. Inside, through the window, I saw Emily Davis, my guardian' s daughter, wearing my dress, accepting congratulations from my friends, being called by my name. A cold wave of nausea washed over me. I pounded on the door, screaming, "Let me in! I' m Sarah Miller! That' s an imposter!" No one believed me. They saw a frantic, disheveled girl and a poised, elegant young woman inside. Ms. Davis slapped me, shrieking, "How dare you disrupt the young lady' s party! I' ll kill you!" They dragged me away, threw me into a windowless storage room, and locked me in. Hours later, Ms. Davis returned with a pillow. "You just couldn' t leave it alone, could you?" she whispered. "You make too much noise." Then, she pushed it down. My consciousness dissolved into suffocating blackness. Then, I gasped, shooting upright. Sunlight streamed through a familiar window. I was in my bed, in my room at the Davis house. My heart pounded. The floral scent was gone. No pain, no darkness. My phone rang, a shrill, insistent sound. The screen lit up with a date. It was the day my college admission results were announced. I wasn' t dead. I was back.

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius

Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."

She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen

Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.