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I stood at the grand entrance of the Williamson pack house, watching Jeremy's rental car pull up the circular drive. The familiar weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders as I prepared to welcome his mother—a woman I'd never met but had heard enough about to feel a knot forming in my stomach. Jeremy emerged first, his Harvard-educated confidence evident in every movement. Then came Mrs. Barnes. She was smaller than I'd expected, her Omega wolf making her appear almost fragile, but something in her sharp eyes immediately put me on edge. She surveyed our ancestral home with a critical gaze that made my wolf stir uneasily. "So this is where my son's been living," she said, her voice carrying a false sweetness that didn't reach her eyes. "Quite... extravagant." Jeremy cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses—a nervous habit I'd learned to recognize.

To save my marriage, I secretly underwent surgery, a desperate attempt to reignite the spark with my husband, Collin. I surprised him in our penthouse suite, wearing a crimson dress, hoping to feel his desire again. Instead, he called me by another woman's name. Then he gave me an order: sleep with his business rival to close the deal of the century. "You are that service," he whispered. While his mistress listened on the phone, he called me "dead weight" and promised her my life. He was so eager to get rid of me, he didn't even read the documents his lawyer sent. He just hit "e-sign" on everything. Including our divorce papers and the very contract that would make me a very rich woman. He thought he could sell his wife like an asset and then leave me destitute. He saw a broken woman, a disposable toy. He never imagined I'd use his own contract to destroy him. Now, with the help of the very man I was sold to, I'm not just taking his money. I'm taking his entire empire.

I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade. But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory. To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder. Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me. But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews. Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms. "What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?" Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had. I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull. The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage. I didn't break, and I didn't run. Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen. And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.

Upon returning from abroad, the first thing I did was join the parents' group of Matilda's kindergarten and changed my display name to "Matilda's Mom." I planned to pick her up from school that afternoon and surprise her. Just after I'd tagged her teacher in the group chat, another "Matilda's Mom" suddenly appeared, launching a tirade at me. "I've seen shameless people, but never someone this audacious. Who dares to impersonate others like this?" "Either you're a kidnapper or a homewrecker. This is a parents' group, not a place for just anyone to sneak in." Before I could wrap my head around her accusations, she posted a video of my daughter calling her "mom," with the setting unmistakably in my own home. She even changed her profile picture to one with my daughter, flaunting her claim. Shocked and bewildered, I called my husband immediately. "When did you get a new wife? And replace me as Matilda's mom?" He replied, "You're talking gibberish! If I ever replaced anyone, it certainly wouldn't be you!" After a year working hard at the European branch of the company, I had just returned home.

After my Coming of Age ceremony, Riley Ford, the Beta of the Lycan court, arrived at the Blue Moon Pack with a list of potential mates from the nearby packs. He instructed me to choose someone to form a mate bond with. I told him I would leave it to chance. In my past life, I had eagerly accepted Kayson Foster, the Alpha heir of the Shadow Pack, as my mate. But on the eve of our marking ceremony, he abandoned me to comfort Francesca Burns, a Delta whose inner wolf had become dormant. She had been devastated by the loss of her wolf and fell into despair. After being found wandering alone, she nearly took her own life. Kayson blamed me for her suffering and led his pack to destroy my birth pack, the Blue Moon Pack, and claimed their territory for Francesca to recover in. He imprisoned me and allowed her to torture me until I died. This time, I drew the name of Hunter Martinez, the Lycan Prince of the Red Flame territory, a quiet and reserved figure who rarely interacted with others.

On the first anniversary of our reconciliation, I thought my tech mogul husband and I had finally turned a corner. Then I discovered our entire marriage was a spectator sport. It was a cruel, year-long revenge game orchestrated by him and his lover, and I was the punchline. For their amusement, I was poisoned with food contaminated with dog feces, publicly humiliated with a twenty-million-dollar auction scam, and beaten until my ribs broke by his family's private security. I endured it all, playing the part of the clueless, loving wife while they laughed about it in a group chat called "The Jillian Andrews Comedy Hour." But their grand finale was a step too far. I overheard him calmly planning to leave me to die in a remote cabin during a blizzard, a "tragic accident" that would finally set him free to be with his mistress. He thought he was writing the final chapter of my life. He didn't know I was about to use his murder plot as my own perfect escape. I faked my death, vanished into thin air, and left him to explain to the world how his beloved wife disappeared off the face of the earth.

Mathilda had to taste the bitterness of life when she was forced into marriage with a young and powerful CEO named Fredric. From the very first day, her life turned into a living nightmare. She endured endless humiliation, emotional abuse, and cold indifference from the man who was supposed to be her husband. To him, Mathilda was nothing more than a burden-someone to display in public, then discard once the cameras were gone. Despite her pain, Mathilda tried to hold onto hope. She told herself that someday Fredric would see her true worth, that love might grow where only resentment lived. But fate had other plans. One night, an accident shattered everything. The car crash left behind twisted metal, fire, and smoke-and the world believed Mathilda was dead. Fredric never looked back. He moved on, unbothered, as if her existence had been erased. The company held a brief memorial, the press covered the tragedy for a day or two, and then her name vanished into silence. But Mathilda wasn't dead. She woke up in a remote hospital, broken but alive. Her body was scarred, her spirit nearly destroyed-but her heart burned with something new: vengeance. Every wound became a promise. Every scar, a reminder of the life that had been stolen from her. For months, she planned in secret-building herself again, piece by piece. The world would soon see a different woman, stronger, more beautiful, untouchable. When Mathilda finally returned, she was no longer the fragile wife Fredric once despised. She had become his greatest fear-a ghost of his past, walking in heels, wrapped in elegance and power. And this time, she wouldn't ask for love. She would demand retribution.

An awkward urology exam led Ximena, a brilliant physician, to stumble into Aydan's most guarded weakness-the untouchably wealthy heir's humiliating secret. In public, he was a ruthless tycoon who treated romance like a liability. In private, he was her patient, battling a hidden condition-and she was the only person who could help him. A marriage contract welded their lives together. Before the wedding, he drew a sharp line. "Doctor. Boundaries." Afterward, he begged, "Babe... do you really feel nothing?" Ximena blinked. "This was supposed to be a contract. Why are you acting like it's real now?"

The full moon hung like a silver medallion in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the gathered Crimson Fang Pack. My heart fluttered with anticipation as I knelt before the sacred altar, my hands resting protectively over my swollen belly. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration—the blessing of my first pregnancy, the pup that would finally solidify my bond with Kyren. "Are you ready, Luna Jane?" Sarah, our pack healer, whispered as she arranged the ceremonial herbs on the stone altar. Her eyes sparkled with genuine joy for me. "I've been ready for this moment my entire life," I replied, unable to suppress my smile. Eight years of devotion to Kyren, eight years of enduring whispers about my wolfless state, all culminating in this precious gift growing inside me. The pack formed a perfect circle around us, their faces illuminated by flickering torchlight. I searched for Kyren among them, finding his tall figure standing proudly at the head of the assembly. Our eyes met briefly, and I allowed myself to hope that this child would finally bridge the distance that had always lingered between us.

The algorithm knew my fiancé was cheating on me before I did. It led me, five days before my wedding, to a secret Instagram account. My maid of honor was wearing my wedding dress. The account was a shrine to her three-year affair with my fiancé, Arden. They had crafted a perfect narrative for their followers: they were tragic soulmates, and I was the cold, calculating villain keeping them apart. The comments were full of hate for me. But the final twist of the knife was seeing that my best friend, Dallas, had "liked" a comment wishing I'd have an "accident" and break my leg again. I had saved his life. My family had saved hers from ruin. Why this elaborate, public cruelty? On my wedding day, I was a no-show. Instead, as the elite of New York society watched, the ballroom screens lit up with a presentation I' d prepared, exposing every photo, every text, and every single lie.

A DIVORCE HE REGRETS BOOK 2 She was the golden girl. He was the boy born of revenge. One dare led Ava Graham into a party she should never have attended... and into the arms of Kye Osborn - the stranger who stole her first kiss, her first night, and her peace. By morning, he was the new transfer student. By afternoon, he was blackmailing her to obey. And by night, she was falling for the very boy sent to destroy her family. But when old secrets resurface - about murder, betrayal, and the sins their parents tried to bury - Ava realizes she isn't the only one trapped. Kye's revenge runs in his blood... and his love for her might just kill them both.

“These are symptoms of pregnancy.” The doctor said to me. I couldn't believe this. “What?” I asked the doctor again, just to be sure. “You are pregnant, Kayla.” He said again, sounding so confident as he handed the result to me. “You are two months gone and more excitingly, you aren't carrying one child.” He told me. I was confused here. “You are pregnant with triplets.” Without wasting so much time, I rushed home. The news, waiting to be spilled out of my mouth. On reaching however, I could sense a strange presence which I went to check. Upon getting to the kitchen, my stepmom, Giorgia, was cooking for my husband and trying to seduce him. She was here while I was away in the hospital. I went speechless, then furious, not wanting anyone to take my man from me. “Don't tell me you want to make a big deal out of this. It is nothing, she just came to cook for me. Nothing more.” He tried to explain. But few days later, the greatest shock of my life happens– Baron handed over a separation agreement to me. “Our separation. Our union ends today. I would rather be with Giorgia than you. Pack your things and leave tonight. I will give you three million dollars to start a life somewhere else, but as for us, it's over!” But what happens when five years later, Giorgia, my stepmom and his wife, is dead and he calls me back to be his daughter’s nanny?

The Manhattan skyline stretched before me like a glittering promise, each building a monument to ambition and desire. I gripped the edge of the rooftop railing, my knuckles white against the cold metal, as the truth crystallized in my chest like ice. Behind me, my twenty-second birthday party continued without its guest of honor — laughter and clinking glasses carrying on the night air, oblivious to the fact that my world had just imploded. Thiago was late. Again. The story of our relationship in a single sentence. I'd stepped away from the celebration to call him, my phone already in hand when I noticed the voicemail. He must have called while I was mid-conversation with Simone about her latest job opportunity. I pressed play, expecting his usual excuses — work emergency, traffic, some reason why he couldn't make it to yet another milestone in our five years together. "Mayaaa," his voice came through, low and intimate, the kind of tone he used when he thought no one else was listening.

I used to believe love could survive neglect. I told myself that every missed birthday, every broken promise, every moment Anson chose another woman and her son over me and our daughter was just temporary. But when he walked out on our seven-year-old daughter the night before her life-saving bone marrow transplant, something inside me finally died. My daughter, Anna, is battling leukemia. While she fights for her life, my husband spends his time protecting Dora—the helpless widow he swears is “just a friend.” He misses Anna’s treatments, ignores her tears, and leaves us alone in the hospital while he plays father to another child. So I make a choice. I stop waiting for him. I risk my own life to save my daughter, file for divorce, and prepare to walk away from the man who destroyed our family. But just when I think Anson has already broken us beyond repair, I uncover something even darker. Someone wants Anna dead. Now the man who abandoned us is about to learn exactly what it costs to lose the only people who ever truly loved him. And this time, I won’t forgive him.

The Silverfang pack house was loud. Too loud. Crystal chandeliers threw harsh light over the crowded banquet hall. Laughter and music mixed with the clinking of champagne glasses. It was a celebration of new alliances. But to me, it felt like walking into a cage. It had been exactly three years since I ran away. Three years since I shattered my own soul to save a boy who had nothing. Now, I was back. I smoothed the skirt of my dark green dress and kept my chin high.

By the third year of our mate bond, Adeline returned. For the first time since becoming my mate, Drake, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, skipped dinner at the pack house. He grabbed his coat and headed straight for the airport. That night, he didn’t return. I found Adeline through Drake’s Instagram by checking who he followed. Scrolling through the updates, I saw her latest post: “Finally back home, surrounded by love and friends.” In the accompanying photo, Drake stood beside Adeline, his commanding presence unmistakable even in a casual setting. They were surrounded by his pack warriors—friends he had never introduced to me. My chest tightened as I closed the app, shutting my eyes and my heart along with it. After my duties at the pack’s headquarters, I dined alone at a quiet restaurant by the riverbank. The cool night air brushed against my skin as I drove back to the pack house.

“Margaux is a gorgeous and confident girl, who had a beloved fiance, Lester. However, no one expected Lester would run away from their wedding. Maybe he was just in traffic or maybe his car broke down on the road. No one knows the reason. Lester was just disappeared in this way. Having no time to change her bridal dress, Margaux got into the car and tried to find her groom back. But her car was blocked by a handsome guy, Lawrence. Lawrence was eager to have an important meeting. But he was attracted by this crying beauty. All the on-lookers thought Lawrence was the runaway groom so they persuaded Lawrence to go back and get married to Margaux. Well, Lawrence shrugged and grinned, "Miss Runaway Bride, don't cry, I'm much better than your ex-fiance."

The cathedral bells chimed as sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across my white satin gown. I stood in the small antechamber, my hands trembling slightly as I adjusted the diamond tiara holding my veil in place. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of my life—my wedding to Jefferson Morrison, the man I had loved since college. "You look absolutely radiant, Sophia," my maid of honor whispered, squeezing my hand. "Jefferson won't be able to take his eyes off you." I smiled, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. Three hundred guests waited in the cathedral's main hall—family, friends, business associates, and society's elite. Everything was perfect: the cascading white roses, the string quartet playing Pachelbel's Canon, the custom-designed gown that hugged my curves before flowing into a magnificent train. I had planned this day for months, envisioning our perfect future together. The wedding march began, and I took a deep breath, stepping forward as the massive oak doors swung open. The crowd rose to their feet, gasping and murmuring appreciatively as I glided down the aisle.

I woke up in a Swiss clinic with severe amnesia, having survived a three-week coma from a terrible skiing accident. That was when I found out I was married to a ruthless billionaire named Holt Farmer. But instead of a loving husband, I was greeted by a monster who looked at me with pure hatred. Because of my accident, his fragile mistress was being painted as a homewrecker by the media. To save a corporate merger, my own family dragged me out of the hospital in a wheelchair, forcing me to attend a high-society gala to publicly apologize to the mistress. When I refused and demanded a divorce in front of the cameras instead, my brother violently shoved my wheelchair into a marble pillar, fracturing my spine. When I finally made it back to my parents with a broken body, they didn't even ask if I was hurt. "A PR disaster. That's what you are." My father looked at me coldly, only worried about the failing stock price, while my mother told me to take the settlement money and disappear forever. I finally understood that to my husband and my blood relatives, my life was worth less than a corporate contract. I didn't shed a single tear. Sitting alone in the dark, I dialed the number of the most feared divorce attorney in New York. "I don't want his money. I want to dismantle them all."

Eight days after my c-section, my husband left me and our hungry, premature newborn alone. He rushed to his manipulative ex-girlfriend, Cassidy, who was faking another one of her "panic attacks," just as he always did. His obsession with "saving" her had already caused our son's premature birth. This time, it got him killed. In a jealous rage, Cassidy slammed her car into us, and my baby was gone. But when I woke up in the hospital, Kevin was protecting her, not me. He told me it was an accident, that her diagnosed mental illness made her not responsible. He even had our son cremated without my consent, erasing all the evidence. He begged me to forgive them, to let it all blow over so we could be a family again. I looked at the man who had destroyed my life and smiled. "I called the police, Kevin," I said, showing him my phone. "And that medical certificate you're holding? It's a fake."

Lyra, an orphaned heir of the crescent pack has lived for years with her father's former beta and her cousin Emery, feeling unsafe and unwanted. On the night she turns eighteen, she hopes to finally mate with Adrian, the wolf she loves. Instead, Lyra is rejected by Adrian, the Beta of the Nightfang pack and twin brother to Alpha Triston. Lyra is also poisoned by her cousin Emery and dies. Lyra's wakes up reborn as a moon goddess. She stumbles on Triston, the blind Alpha lycan of the Nightfang pack, who claims her as his fated mate. Lyra becomes Tristons Luna and passionate lover. But the twin who broke her heart returns to her seeking her love, so that together, they may kill Alpha Triston and rule over Nightfang and Crescent. Will Lyra choose her first love or her true mate.

In the sixth year of my marriage to Stefan, I discovered I was pregnant, only to have the joy extinguished by the news of an ectopic pregnancy, forcing me to terminate it. On the morning of the miscarriage, I received a call from a woman. "Hi, could you please ask your husband to come home?" she said. "He's been lingering outside my place." I suddenly felt drained. When I handed the divorce papers to Stefan, he asked irritably, "Just over this small issue?" "Yes, just over this small issue." ... "It's just one phone call. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? And what can you even do after we split?" Stefan, falling back into his usual indifferent manner, asked with a mix of curiosity and disdain. I looked at his relaxed expression, realizing he didn't believe I would actually go through with the divorce. To him, it seemed like I was just throwing a tantrum in a new way.

The candle on my table flickered, casting dancing shadows across the white tablecloth. Three hours. I'd been sitting alone at Le Bernardin for three hours, nursing a glass of water while couples around me enjoyed their anniversary dinners, Valentine's celebrations, or simply Tuesday night dates. The waiter approached for the fifth time, sympathy etched in the lines around his eyes. "Another few minutes, Mrs. Bennett?" he asked gently. I nodded, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Yes, please. My husband is... he's just running late." He was beyond late.

The pack house was silent at three in the morning, the kind of silence that pressed against my skin like a physical weight. I moved through the darkened hallways like a ghost, my bare feet making no sound on the cold wooden floors. Ophelia had finally fallen asleep after hours of fussing, her small body curled tight around her favorite stuffed wolf. But I knew better than to hope for rest. Sleep had become a stranger to me, another casualty of the darkness that had settled in my chest since she was born. The medication the pack healer had prescribed sat untouched in my bathroom cabinet. I couldn't bear the thought of dulling myself further, of missing even more of Ophelia's precious moments in a chemical haze. Tonight, I needed something real—the small blue blanket Ophelia loved, the one that smelled like lavender and home, tucked away in Sterling's office. I didn't turn on the lights. After months of navigating these halls in the dark, I knew every corner, every shadow.