CRAVING MY REJECTED MATE

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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YVONNE –

My fists pounced on the punching bag for the hundredth time ~~. Sweat coated my forehead, dripping down my neck, and my heart ~~was~~ racing faster due to the constant depletion of my strength.

Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea engulf me, and I sat on the floor.

"What could this be?" I wondered. "It's still morning, and I don't feel ill. So why am I nauseated?" I mumbled.

Just then, I felt something forcing its way up my throat to my mouth, and I ran near the woods and threw up.

I was so tired, but the anger within me forbade me from stopping the training. Conan, my alpha-mate of one year, has suddenly changed. He doesn't look at me the way he used to. Instead, his admiring gaze has turned to someone else-Sophia.

Sophia is the Princess of the Darkmoon Pack, a powerful werewolf pack that shares a border with my pack, the Moonstone Pack.

Everything was all about her now. He barely spent time with me anymore; it was as if Sophia was his Luna and not me. I felt like a third wheel in my marriage. I felt so pathetic; hence, I mostly spent my time here because it was my comfort zone.

All this was because I hadn't given him an heir, which was not even my fault. We had taken different lab tests, and the results always said nothing was wrong with me.

I approached the bag and started to punch it again, a long, harsh breath dragging from between my lips. I was so exhausted that I couldn't continue.

Finally stepping away from the punching bag, I sighed, glancing at the pack members training around me. I had been coming here more often than I used to.

"It's time to go home," I mumbled inwardly. I walked towards the exit, nodding at the pack members who greeted me.

On my way home, an unfamiliar pain invaded my chest. I hadn't felt this sudden pain before, or could it be that? It was as if something terrible was about to happen.

I continued walking, staggering forward, until I stood in front of our house. The pain wasn't alleviating; if anything, it was becoming worse.

I pushed the door open and was about to head to our room; however, the sounds of hushed, intimate whispers and movement were unmistakably coming from behind the closed door of our bedroom.

My heart raced faster, and my throat suddenly felt dry.

"Yes, Conan... just like that..." a breathy, unfamiliar voice murmured.

I gulped hard and tried not to believe what I just heard. As I approached the door, a cold dread settled in my stomach at the sounds coming from the room.

"Could it be that Conan brought a woman into our house, into our private space?" I wondered, my mind reeling.

"Say you're mine. I want to hear you say it," Conan's voice replied, low and possessive.

Upon hearing that, my body began to shiver. This betrayal, in our own home! The intimate murmurs and the soft creak of the bed felt like physical blows.

I decided to grab the doorknob weakly, my hand shaking from a devastating mix of heartbreak and rage, and my pulse began racing faster than I had ever experienced.

As I pulled the door open, I was met with the confirming sight I had dreaded-my mate was locked in a close embrace with Sophia in our bed!

They were entangled amidst the disheveled sheets, their sudden stillness amplifying my shock. However, they hadn't noticed my presence until the door opened. I stood there, frozen, and my heart sank. I stared at them for a few seconds before I managed to speak.

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