I Lost Our Baby When His Mistress Pushed Me

During the Frostmoon Pack's sacred marking ceremony, Alpha Anderson publicly shuns Irene, the woman he once mistakenly marked. Claiming his heart belongs to his first love, Leah, he replaces Irene at the altar to fulfill ancient traditions. Having loved him for twelve years, Irene watches from the shadows as they exchange vows under the full moon. Deciding to finally release her unrequited bond, she prepares to depart, only to find that her absence begins to destroy Anderson in ways he never anticipated.

On her wedding day, Chloe’s world shatters when her fiancé, billionaire Julian, gives her custom bridal gown to his secretary for a photo shoot. This cold betrayal is the final straw for Chloe, who realizes she will never outrank his assistant in his heart. Choosing self-respect over a loveless union, she cancels the ceremony and vanishes. Now, Julian must face the consequences of his negligence as he desperately tries to win her back.

It all started with one encounter. One night with a man whose touch felt like sin and whose scent still haunts my skin. I never meant to fall - but when I caught my boyfriend, the Alpha's son, cheating on me, something inside me broke. And that's when he found me - a stranger cloaked in dominance and danger. His hands promised ruin, his lips whispered damnation. I gave in. Just once. Or so I thought. Now, I've been hired as the Alpha's new secretary. And when I walked into his office, the world stopped. Because he's not a stranger. He's him. The man from that night. The man I should have never touched. The father of my ex. I tell myself I can resist him - that I can keep my secret buried. But every time his gaze lingers, every time that deep, commanding voice wraps around my name, my resolve burns away. This isn't love. It's an obsession. Possession. Darkness disguised as desire. And I know one thing for sure - once an Alpha sets his eyes on you... He never lets go.

June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife. Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining. To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live. She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson. When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds. Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family. The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted. He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed. "Stop crying. I'll handle it." Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life. To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.

My little boy died on the operating table during a minor, routine surgery. That exact same night, my billionaire husband bought out the Hudson River for a massive, million-dollar fireworks show. It wasn't to mourn our child. It was to celebrate his first love's son being discharged from the hospital. When I confronted him with our son's death certificate, he sneered and accused me of hiding the boy to get his attention. He held his mistress in our home, watched her fake a panic attack, and threatened to bankrupt my family if I didn't get on my knees and apologize to her. But the most horrifying truth came from a terrified hospital nurse. My son's anesthesia was deliberately kept low during the procedure to keep his tissue viable to save the mistress's child. He was awake and in agonizing pain while his own father planned a grand celebration for another man's son. I couldn't understand how a father could be so completely heartless. How could he sacrifice his own flesh and blood just to please a woman who constantly manipulated him? Looking at the ashes on my son's favorite toy, my paralyzing grief evaporated, replaced by a cold, unyielding rage. I arranged my little boy's funeral alone in the freezing rain, left my wedding ring on the counter, and walked straight into the private hotel suite of my husband's most ruthless business rival. "Let's take him down," I said.

Iris's engagement was a glittering lie. On her wedding dress fitting day, her fiancé left without a word—summoned by his mistress. Years of cold rejection and hollow excuses had finally caught up with him. When fever left her begging for help, she heard the other woman's laughter in the background. That night, after unburdening herself to her best friend, Iris cut every parasitic tie: she blocked his number, left the penthouse, and abandoned her man-centered life. What she never anticipated was a reclusive Wall Street billionaire who had been watching her for years. The moment she walked away, he set his plan in motion—destroy the man who wasted her, and claim her completely for himself.