My Anniversary, His Betrayal

The Barren Luna's Secret: Pregnant with the Alpha's Heir

My husband, Alpha Damien, believed the Seer’s lie that I was barren and a curse to the Blackwood Pack. He spent his nights with his mistress, Victoria, while I sat alone in the cold study, hiding the swell of my belly and the future Alpha growing inside me. The night the Great Hall exploded, the truth could no longer be hidden. I collapsed on the floor, my water breaking, blood pooling beneath me amidst the choking smoke and debris. Damien saw me. He saw the agony in my eyes and the desperate plea on my lips. But when Victoria let out a theatrical scream from across the room, he made his choice. He turned his back on his pregnant mate and sprinted to save his mistress, leaving me to be consumed by the flames. I didn't die in the fire. I dragged myself out into the freezing blizzard, choosing to risk death in the snow rather than stay in a house that wanted me dead. It wasn't until weeks later that Damien tore apart the Seer’s tower and found the letter proving Victoria had paid for the fake prophecy. Shattered by the realization that he had abandoned his own son for a lie, he crossed the frozen wasteland to my father’s territory, falling to his knees in the mud to beg for my return. But he didn't find the weak, submissive wife he left behind. He found the White Wolf. I looked down at him with cold, dead eyes and whispered, "My child has my blood, and he will never know you."

Discarded Wife's Billionaire Revenge Unleashed

The fourth time I lost our baby, my husband threw me out of his Bentley on a deserted road. My crime? The heel of my shoe had scuffed the pristine leather interior. I woke up in a hospital bed, bleeding and alone, only to see him through the glass door, holding his high school sweetheart in his arms. Moments later, his mother posted their picture online with the caption: "Finally back where they belong. A true love story." Their friends commented, calling me a "social-climbing nobody" he was finally getting rid of. They thought they had broken me, that I would come crawling back like I always did. But they forgot about the betrayal clause in our prenup, the one that would give me control of my family's entire fortune. And it expired in one week.

The Unwanted, The Unstoppable

After ten years in the foster system, my family finally found me. I thought it was a dream come true, but I quickly learned my place. I was the workhorse who paid for my perfect twin sister Kristen's life, while she was the golden child they were proud of. The only good thing I had was my boyfriend, Jason. Then, at a party I was catering, I overheard my parents plotting with his. They were arranging for Jason to marry Kristen, saying I had too much baggage and was damaged goods. Minutes later, in front of everyone, Jason got down on one knee and proposed to my sister. As the crowd cheered, my phone buzzed with a text from him: "I'm sorry. It's over." When I confronted them at home, they admitted the truth. Finding me was a mistake. I was just an embarrassment they had to manage, and they had done me a favor by giving Jason to Kristen. To silence me, my sister threw herself down the stairs and screamed that I had pushed her. My father beat me and threw me onto the street like trash. As I lay bruised on the sidewalk, my parents told the arriving police I was a violent attacker. They wanted to erase me, but they were about to find out they had just started a war.

My Wife, My Betrayer

My wife, Sarah, and I defined DINK: Dual Income, No Kids. It was her dream, and I made it mine, even getting a vasectomy to seal our child-free future. Then, ten years into our perfect marriage, I found the birth certificates in her safe: twins, Luke and Ben O'Connell. Ten years old. When confronted, Sarah admitted they were "Liam's boys," her old college friend. She justified it as "filial piety" for Liam's "dying mother," a duty. What about her duty to me? My blood ran cold when her mother called, casually revealing the whole family knew. They expected me to "adjust," to love the boys. Suddenly, I was faced with a choice: "It's me, or it's them. You cut them out of your life, completely, or we are done." She didn't hesitate. "I can't do that to them, Ethan. They're my children." My heart shattered. I took off my wedding ring and laid it on the birth certificates. The marriage was over. I was a fool, a twenty-year joke, the loyal husband sacrificing for a woman building another family behind my back. The clinic visit replayed in my mind: Sarah holding my hand, her "concern" for me, comforting me years later with a fake infertility diagnosis. All lies. I discovered the truth through a monthly payment to a property management company, leading to photos of Sarah, Liam, and the twins living a perfect family life-a life I was unknowingly funding. At her father's 70th birthday party, Sarah introduced me to the boys. "Mommy says you couldn't give her babies, so she had to get them from our daddy," one smirked, loud enough for everyone to hear. Later, she publicly transferred fifty-one percent of my company's shares to Liam, for "the boys." I wasn't just replaced; I was erased. The next day, she brought them to our house, my house. The boy broke his own phone, then shrieked, "He pushed me!" Liam, the picture of feigned sorrow, scolded me. Then, Sarah, with a rage I'd never seen, slapped me hard across the face. "How dare you touch my son?" In that moment, I realized I was just an obstacle. I didn't say a word. I just packed a bag, signed the divorce papers, and left. On my way out, I made sure the hidden security camera had captured everything, the proof I needed to ensure she could never deny what she had done.

The Betrayal: A Love Lost

I was Mark Thompson' s secret, his adoptive niece, and his hidden lover for three years. He took me in when I had nowhere else to go, becoming my protector and hero. Then, two pink lines on a pregnancy test changed everything. I went to tell him, hoping this baby would make our relationship real, only to overhear him on the phone, laughing. "A baby? With her? Are you crazy? I can't have some unwanted mutt ruining my life." My blood ran cold as I heard him, the man I loved, dismiss our unborn child as an "unwanted mutt," and me as "just a kid," "a fling." My phone shattered on the floor, mirroring my heart. Later, his ex, Sarah Jenkins-the "white whale" he never got over-buzzed his phone. I heard her laughter in the background as he canceled our dinner for her. The dream turned into a nightmare. Days later, Mark took Sarah' s side after she maliciously posted private photos of me online and then lied, claiming I was crazy. He didn't ask for my side of the story. He just saw her tears and shattered phone and immediately took her side. "You have caused nothing but trouble since she came back," he snarled, and then the man who promised to protect me slapped me. I fell, clutching my stomach, screaming his name as I saw the blood. But a cold, unfeeling Mark just looked at me. "Stop it, Olivia," he said, his voice laced with disgust. "The drama is over. I'm not falling for it." Then, he left me bleeding on the floor, driving off with Sarah as I lost our baby. How could he? How could the man who raised me, the man I loved, turn into a monster who chose his ex-girlfriend's lies over my suffering? How could he dismiss me, hit me, and abandon me when I was losing our child? What kind of love was this? What was wrong with me for believing in him? I would not let him soothe me this time. There would be no more tears, no more begging. I would take my shattered pieces, walk away, and build a life where I was finally free.

The Fiancé's Cruel Game

One month ago, my life was a fairytale, complete with an engagement ring from Liam Blackwood, the man I adored. Then, Vance Capital collapsed, my father was arrested, and quickly died in prison. My mother, shattered, faded away. I lost everything overnight, and when I ran to Liam, my fiancé, for comfort, he simply stated, "I did it, Ava. Every part of it. I destroyed your father." Shock, grief, and utter confusion warred in me as he revealed a chilling tale of vengeance spanning decades, culminating in my family' s ruin. Now, I stand on an auction block in Liam' s exclusive, underground club, priced and displayed like a possession. My humiliation, he believes, is the final stroke of his revenge. But as he mockingly toasts his victory, a new fire ignites within me. He thinks he' s broken me, but he has only forged a new enemy, and this is just the beginning of his downfall.

The Curvy Ex-Wife's Revenge: The Divorce He Gave, The Regret He Earned

Nicole had entered marriage with Walter, a man who never returned her feelings, bound to him through an arrangement made by their families rather than by choice. Even so, she had held onto the quiet belief that time might soften his heart and that one day he would learn to love her. However, that day never came. Instead, he treated her with constant contempt, tearing her down with cruel words and dismissing her as fat and manipulative whenever it suited him. After two years of a cold and distant marriage, Walter demanded a divorce, delivering his decision in the most degrading manner he could manage. Stripped of her dignity and exhausted by the humiliation, Nicole agreed to her friend Brenda's plan to make him see what he had lost. The idea was simple but daring. She would use another man to prove that the woman Walter had mocked and insulted could still be desired by someone else. All they had to do was hire a gigolo. Patrick had endured one romantic disappointment after another. Every woman he had been involved with had been drawn not to him, but to his wealth. As one of the heirs to a powerful and influential family, he had long accepted that this pattern was almost unavoidable. What Patrick wanted was far more difficult to find. He longed to fall in love with a woman who cared for him as a person, not for the name he carried or the fortune attached to it. One night, while he was at a bar, an attractive stranger approached him. Because of his appearance and composed demeanor, she mistook him for a gigolo. She made an unconventional proposal, one that immediately caught his interest and proved impossible for him to refuse.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

From Rejected Omega to the Supreme White Wolf

I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.

After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.