I Donated My Bone Marrow to Save His Mistress

The steady beep of the heart monitor pulled me from a dreamless sleep. For a moment, I forgot where I was, my mind still clouded from the anesthesia. Then the familiar antiseptic smell hit me, and reality crashed down like a wave. Mount Sinai Hospital. Recovery room. My sixth abortion. Not by choice. Never by choice. I blinked at the stark white ceiling, feeling hollow in every sense of the word. My hand moved instinctively to my abdomen, fingers spreading protectively over the emptiness where my child had been just hours ago.

Chapters

Chapter 3

I still had nightmares about drowning.

Two weeks after the pool incident, I would wake gasping for air, my lungs burning as if still filled with chlorinated water. If not for Daniel, the groundskeeper who had seen everything from the garden shed and pulled me from the depths while Marcus stood watching, I might not be here at all.

Tonight, the Sterling dining room glittered with crystal and silver, a celebration dinner for Sarah's temporary remission. The bone marrow transplant—my forced sacrifice—had bought her time, though the doctors were careful to call it just that: temporary. Not that anyone acknowledged the source of her second chance.

I sat rigid in my high-backed chair, picking at the roasted duck on my plate while conversation flowed around me. The dining table was filled with Marcus's business associates and family friends, all raising glasses to Sarah's health.

"You look beautiful tonight," whispered Evelyn Reed, the attorney seated beside me. She was new to Marcus's circle, brought by a mutual friend. "Are you feeling alright?"

I managed a tight smile. "Just tired."

Her eyes held mine a moment too long, as if she could see the bruises beneath my carefully applied makeup—not physical ones, but the kind that marked a soul. I looked away first.

At the head of the table, Marcus rose, commanding attention as he always did. "I'd like to propose a toast," he announced, lifting his crystal flute. "To Sarah, whose strength continues to inspire us all."

The guests murmured their agreement, raising their glasses. I reached for my water instead.

"Wait," Sarah's voice cut through the moment, her eyes finding mine across the table. "Isabella should join with champagne. This is, after all, partly thanks to her... donation." Her lips curved into what guests might mistake for gratitude, but I recognized the malice behind it.

Marcus's gaze shifted to me, expectant. Challenging.

"I don't drink champagne," I said quietly. "I have a sulfite allergy."

Sarah's eyes widened with feigned concern. "Oh, I completely forgot! How terrible of me." The performance was flawless—the caring sister-in-law, momentarily forgetful of a potentially dangerous allergy.

"One sip won't hurt," Marcus said, his tone light but his eyes hard as he moved behind my chair. He placed a full flute before me, his hand heavy on my shoulder. "For Sarah."

The table had gone uncomfortably quiet. I could feel the weight of curious stares.

"Marcus," I began, my voice barely audible, "you know what happens when—"

His fingers dug into my shoulder, silencing me. "A toast," he insisted, lifting the glass to my lips. "To new beginnings."

I tried to turn my face away, but his other hand caught my jaw, holding me firmly as he tipped the flute against my mouth. The champagne burned as it touched my lips, a few drops sliding past them despite my resistance.

"There," he said, satisfaction evident in his voice as he released me and returned to his seat. "Was that so difficult?"

The first symptoms began almost immediately. A tingling sensation spread across my lips, followed by an uncomfortable tightness in my throat. I reached for my water, taking desperate gulps as the familiar panic set in.

"Isabella?" Evelyn's concerned voice seemed distant now. "Are you alright?"

I couldn't answer. My airway was constricting rapidly, each breath becoming a labored wheeze. I clutched at my throat, my eyes wide with terror as I looked to Marcus—a reflexive plea for help that my rational mind knew was futile.

He watched impassively from across the table, making no move to assist as I rose unsteadily to my feet. Sarah's expression was a mixture of fascination and satisfaction, poorly disguised behind a hand pressed to her mouth in mock horror.

The room tilted sideways as my knees gave out. I collapsed onto the parquet floor, gasping like a fish out of water, my vision tunneling to pinpoints of light.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Evelyn's voice cut through the chaos, sharp with authority.

"She's just being dramatic," I heard Sarah say, her voice floating somewhere above me.

"If you don't call 911 right now," Evelyn snapped, "I will, and I'll make sure every medical professional knows exactly how this happened."

Only then did I hear Marcus move, barking orders for someone to fetch my EpiPen from the bathroom cabinet upstairs. As consciousness began to slip away, one thought crystallized with perfect clarity: my husband had been willing to watch me die before a stranger forced his hand.

Some choices, once made, can never be undone.

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After catching her boyfriend banging her coursemate, Luna ends up in a club with her friend, in a bid to forget it all. There, she meets this dashing guy who she jumps on without hesitation and requests for wild sex. It was supposed to be a one-night stand— one hell of a one-night stand that gave her shivers, but what she wasn't expecting was to meet him again. Not as the one who helped her brother secure a business deal and the one in whose house she would be spending the next thirty days. His name is Xander Storm— a dashing billionaire and one of the most eligible bachelors in Bayview. The shock goes both ways because the two of them relished the one-night stand and acknowledged that it felt more than one— but weren't expecting to see each other again. What will these thirty days be like? Will they pretend it never happened, or will they give in to the growing feelings that gnawed at their hearts? What will Xander's growing feelings for Luna mean for his revenge against the death of his parents, and for his enemies?

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.5

DISCARDED WIFE, MY HUSBAND'S WORST NIGHTMARE

8.5

Ten years of marriage. Lara Castellano believed it meant something. Until the night her husband walked through the door with another woman… and their baby. Humiliated and betrayed, Lara soon discovers the truth is even worse than infidelity. Her husband didn’t just betray her. He used her. For years Andre Castellano has been manipulating everything—her health, her family, even the circumstances surrounding her father’s death. But Andre made one fatal mistake. He believed Lara would remain the quiet, loyal wife he could control. Instead, she disappears… and begins building a plan powerful enough to destroy him. With secret allies, hidden financial moves, and truths Andre never expected to surface, Lara begins a silent war. And by the time he realizes what she’s doing— it’s already too late. Because the woman he discarded is no longer his wife. She is his worst nightmare.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.3

Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire

9.3

My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger. During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience. I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants. My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure. Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn. Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery. "Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever. I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.2

I Hid His Heir from My Alpha

8.2

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.

Billionaire Romance Werewolf

8.7

My Fake Bankrupt Husband Is A Tycoon

8.7

I was trapped in a greasy diner by my own mother. She was forcing me to marry my abusive cousin because he had paid her twenty thousand dollars. To escape, I used a contract marriage app and begged a complete stranger to marry me at City Hall that very day. Ethan drove a cheap Ford and wore a plain suit. I thought he was just an ordinary guy needing a fake wife. When my mother found out, she brought thugs to destroy my flower shop—my only home and livelihood. To protect Ethan from her endless extortion, I shielded him and screamed that he was bankrupt and drowning in credit card debt. My mother fled in disgust, and Ethan took me into his apartment for the night. But out of trauma and habit, I locked my bedroom door, muttering that he must be old and desperate. He stormed out into the freezing night, leaving me terrified that I had ruined my only lifeline. I didn't understand why he was so furiously offended, completely unaware that my "broke" husband was actually the most ruthless billionaire in New York, and I had just trampled his massive ego. The next morning, his face was a mask of ice as he dragged me back to City Hall to annul the marriage and get rid of me. "Annulment. Now," he demanded. But the clerk just popped her gum and slid a pink paper across the counter. "State law changed. Mandatory thirty-day cooling-off period."

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.8

Pregnant, Then Betrayed by Fiancé

7.8

My phone buzzed with a notification, the screen lighting up with a social media alert. Normally, I'd ignore it during my lunch break, but the preview caught my eye—Travis's name alongside some congratulatory comments. Curious, I tapped on the notification, and my world collapsed in an instant. There he was—Travis Webb, my fiancé of five years—down on one knee at La Maison Rouge, the city's most romantic restaurant. The diamond ring in his hand caught the candlelight, sparkling almost as brightly as Fiona Turner's eyes as she covered her mouth in theatrical surprise. "Fiona Turner, you've been my dream since we were children," Travis's voice came through clearly in the video. "I promise to love you forever, to give you the life we always talked about. Will you marry me?" My hands trembled so violently I nearly dropped my phone. The comments beneath the video blurred through my tears: *Congratulations to power couple Travis Webb and Fiona Turner! #RelationshipGoals* *The business mogul's fairy-tale proposal is EVERYTHING!

Billionaire Modern Romance

I Donated My Bone Marrow to Save His Mistress

Chapter 3

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