Ohio Bound: With His Baby

Unwanted By The Alpha: The Secret Royal Princess

I woke up in agony after saving my husband from an explosion, only to find him standing over my hospital bed with a death sentence. Alpha Julius didn't care that I was bleeding internally. He only cared that his new "Fated Mate," Kenzie, needed a bone marrow transplant. And I was the match. When I refused, Julius didn't hesitate. He used the Alpha Command to paralyze my body, forcing me to lie still while doctors drilled into my hip. He threatened to throw our five-year-old daughter, Ava, to the feral Rogues if I didn't sign over my assets and accept his rejection. "If you die, the pack will find a use for the girl," he said coldly. He took my marrow, stole my life's work, and left me for dead in a supply closet, convinced I was just a weak human with no leverage. He thought he had won. He thought he had stripped me of everything. But Julius made one fatal mistake. He didn't know who I really was. As he walked away to celebrate with his mistress, I smashed through the mental barriers I had kept up for a decade. I reached out across the void to the one man who could burn this pack to ash. "Father," I screamed silently into the mind-link. "He's killing me." The Alpha King’s voice thundered back in my skull. Julius thought he had crushed a human. He had no idea he just woke up the White Wolf.

His Unwanted Wife, Her Vengeful Heart

To save my father and our family's gallery, I was forced to marry the ruthless Caleb Wiley. He treated me like a commodity, his heart belonging only to another woman, Eva. When my father needed a life-saving surgery, Caleb made me a cruel offer. To get the money, I had to drink a fatal allergen during a high-stakes poker game. I drank it and nearly died. I woke up in the hospital to learn the money was never sent. My father was dead. Caleb had abandoned me to chase after Eva, later trading me to a lecherous judge like a piece of property. My life, my father's life-it was all worth less than his obsession. But then I found the proof. His mother had orchestrated everything-my family's ruin, my father's murder. My grief turned to ice. From the shadows, I began to broadcast every one of the Wiley family's crimes to the world.

Too Late: The Innocent Traitor I Destroyed

I walked out of the federal penitentiary with a terminal cancer diagnosis and exactly six months to live. Desperate for money to pay for a sky burial, I returned to the Vitiello family, the people who now wanted me dead. Dante, the man I had loved since childhood, looked at me with pure hatred. He thought I was the monster who killed his mother. He didn't know I had confessed to a crime I didn't commit to hide the ugly truth—that she had taken her own life. To punish me, Dante became cruel. He forced me to work as a servant, making me stand guard outside his bedroom door while he was intimate with his fiancée, Sofia. When the estate caught fire, I didn't hesitate. I ran into the inferno. I dragged Dante to safety, my back burning as debris fell on me, scarring me forever. But when he woke up, I hid in the shadows and let Sofia take the credit. I couldn't let him feel indebted to a "murderer." I thought that was the worst of it. I was wrong. On the eve of his wedding, Sofia had an accident and needed a blood transfusion. I was the only match. Dante didn't know my body was already shutting down. He didn't know my blood was poisoned with cancer markers. "Take it all," he roared at the doctors, ignoring my frail, trembling body. "Just save my wife." I died on that table, drained dry to save the woman who stole my life. It wasn't until the monitor flatlined that his right-hand man finally threw a file onto Dante's lap. "She didn't kill your mother, Dante. And she didn't just leave town. You just executed the only person who ever truly loved you."

Broken Pianist, Unbreakable Spirit Returns

I was Haylee Velasquez, a real estate heiress and Juilliard pianist, engaged to tech genius Joshua Cunningham. My life was a fairytale written in gold. Days before our wedding, I was kidnapped. The ransom was fifty million dollars. My fiancé refused to pay. Instead, he and my best friend, Giselle, used that exact amount to close a business deal, leaving me to be tortured for fifteen days. I lost our unborn child and the use of my hands forever. When I finally escaped and ran to him, bleeding and terrified, he accused me of being dramatic. "What in God's name are you doing?" he hissed. "Are you trying to ruin everything?" He had me committed to a mental institution for three years, stealing my inheritance and my sanity. Now, I'm out. A viral article celebrating their success just popped up on my phone, with a cruel comment from Giselle meant only for me. They think I'm still the broken girl they locked away. They're about to find out how wrong they are.

The Twenty-Billion-Dollar Sacrifice

I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Liam. But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell. He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Sophia. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her acting career couldn't handle the scandal right before his company's IPO. When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately. He didn't know the scars on my own back were from that same fire. He didn't know I was the one who pulled him out, not her. He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility. He knew. And he still sent me. I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Liam and Sophia were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach. My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years. "Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I was wrong. I'm ready to come home."

The Wife He Cast Aside

The two pink lines on the pregnancy test glowed back at me, a beacon of hope after two years of trying. My first thought was David, my husband, away at a tech conference. This was everything we wanted for our future. But when I video-called him, eager to share the joyous news, it wasn't his face that filled the screen. I heard his voice, cold and dismissive, telling someone, "I' ll tell her I want a divorce tomorrow." Then came the husky, triumphant voice of Emily White, his head of marketing: "You promise, David? You' ll leave her for me?" My phone slipped from my trembling hand as he promised Emily, "Tomorrow, it' ll be over. Then it' s just you and me. And our baby." The words "Divorce" and "Our baby" echoed in the silent bathroom, each a cruel twist of the knife. I stood there, stunned, the positive pregnancy test in my hand a mockery of my shattered reality. Returning home, I found David and Emily in our bed, in our perfect suburban home. Not only was he unapologetic, but he also physically shoved me, then stood there, naked and defiant, declaring our marriage over. When I, shaking, revealed my pregnancy, he snatched the test, snarled, "It doesn' t matter. I don' t want it. I don' t want you," and snapped the test in two, throwing the broken pieces at my feet. How could the man who promised me the world, the man I poured my life into, become this cruel stranger? How could he deny his own child, especially after knowing my struggles to conceive? The betrayal was compounded when I discovered, through a chilling message, that he had been with Emily, celebrating their "first big deal," on the day of my father' s funeral. The man I loved had desecrated my deepest grief. Now, a cold, hard resolve clicked into place. He would pay for every lie, every betrayal, every tear.

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."

Too Late, Hubby, I'm The Tycoon's Darling Now!

For three years, Averie pushed herself through a secret marriage, waiting for the day she could finally wear a white dress and be seen as his wife. The night before she could finally walk down the aisle, he confessed without a hint of hesitation that he was marrying the woman who once rescued him instead. The "fake" divorce agreement she signed for him shattered into a real, icy breakup that finally freed her wounded heart. When he returned in remorse, begging for just one more chance, a ruthless business magnate pulled Averie close and muttered coldly, "You're too late. She's my woman now."

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."

The Rise Of The Ugly Luna

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable

Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."

Passion Unleashed: Carrying The President's Child

After a one-night stand with a stranger, Roselyn woke up to find only a bank card without a PIN number. Still in a daze, she was detained on charges of theft. Just as the handcuffs were about to close, the mysterious man reappeared, holding her pregnancy report. "You're pregnant with my child," he said coldly. Shocked, Roselyn was whisked away in a helicopter to the presidential palace, where she learned the truth: the man from that night was none other than the country's most powerful and influential leader!