The 100-Point Plan For His Regret
For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave.
The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for.
In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in.
"Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer."
His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient.
"I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now."
He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.
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Chapter 4
Ariana led the way into the restaurant, which was the same one where the accident had happened. It had been quickly renovated and reopened. She pointed out the new decorations, her hand resting possessively on Blake' s arm.
"I always dreamed of having a place like this, Blake," she said wistfully. "A space for art and beauty."
"I remember," Blake said, his voice soft. "You wanted high ceilings, exposed brick, and a crystal chandelier right in the center. You said it would 'drip starlight.' "
Ariana looked at him, amazed. "You remember that? I said that when we were seventeen."
"I remember everything you' ve ever said," he replied, and the sincerity in his voice was a knife in Caroline' s gut.
They were seated in a private booth. Blake took the menu, his eyes scanning it with practiced ease. "We' ll have the seared scallops, the truffle risotto, and the duck confit."
Ariana laughed, a light, tinkling sound. "Blake, you ordered all my favorites. You should ask Caroline what she likes." She said it with an air of sweet concern, but her eyes, when they met Caroline' s, were sharp with malice.
Blake turned to Caroline, a blank look on his face. He pushed the menu towards her. "Sorry. I… I don' t know what you like to eat."
Three years. For three years, she had cooked for him, ordered for him, packed his lunches. He had eaten the food she prepared every single day, and he didn' t know. He didn't know the simplest thing about her.
The humiliation was a physical force, pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe. She saw the smug satisfaction in Ariana' s eyes, the casual indifference in Blake' s. It was all too much.
"Excuse me," Caroline said, her voice tight. She stood up and pushed her way out of the booth. "I need some air."
She walked quickly towards the exit, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of their shared history. She heard footsteps behind her. It was Ariana.
"Let me show you the way to the powder room," Ariana said, her voice dripping with false kindness.
In the empty corridor, Ariana dropped the act. She blocked Caroline' s path.
"You should just give up, you know," Ariana said, her voice low and cold. "You see how he is with me. He remembers every little thing about me. He doesn' t even know your favorite food. You' re just a placeholder, Caroline. A temporary solution until I was ready to come back to him."
Every word was a confirmation of a truth Caroline already knew, but hearing it spoken aloud was still devastating.
"He loves me," Ariana continued, her smile turning cruel. "He built his career for me. He ran into a burning building for me. He' s giving up his future for me. What has he ever done for you?"
Caroline felt a wave of dizziness. The walls seemed to be closing in.
"What do you want, Ariana?" Caroline asked, her voice shaking.
"I want you to leave," Ariana said simply. "He' s mine. He has always been mine. You' re just in the way."
As she spoke, there was a loud creaking sound from above. Both women looked up. The large, ornate chandelier-the replacement for the one that had fallen before-was swaying ominously.
A collective gasp went through the restaurant, followed by screams.
Blake came running. His eyes darted between the two women and the falling chandelier. There was a split second of hesitation. A choice.
He lunged for Ariana.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back, shielding her with his body as the massive fixture of crystal and metal crashed to the ground right where Caroline was standing.
The last thing Caroline saw before the world exploded in pain and went dark was Blake holding Ariana, his back to her, protecting the only person who mattered.
She woke to the blinding lights of a hospital ceiling. Every part of her body screamed in agony. Her head was bandaged, her arm was in a cast, and a sharp pain radiated from her abdomen. The room was empty. There were no flowers. No concerned husband. She was alone.
A nurse came in, her face grim. She checked Caroline' s vitals.
"You' re very lucky, Mrs. Santos. You have a concussion, a broken arm, and multiple lacerations. But you' re alive."
Caroline looked at the empty chair beside her bed.
She reached for the small purse on her nightstand. Inside, wrapped in a silk cloth, was the black journal. She found a pen. Her hand ached, but she wrote with grim determination.
-15 Points: He watched a chandelier fall on me and didn' t even try to help. He chose her.
A young nurse' s aide came in to change her IV bag. She saw the notebook. "What' s that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"It' s a scorecard for my marriage," Caroline said, her voice flat. "When it hits zero, the game is over."
The aide leaned closer, her eyes wide. "Wow. You' re almost there. Only five points left."
Just then, the door opened, and Blake walked in. He looked tired and disheveled. He had been with Ariana. Of course, he had.
"What are you two talking about?" he asked, his gaze falling on the open journal in Caroline' s hand.
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8.9
Betrayed by the people she trusted most, Ava Lin's perfect life shatters overnight. From losing her mother under mysterious circumstances to being tormented by her stepmother and stepsister, Ava learns early that love in her world comes at a price. But nothing prepares her for the ultimate betrayal,catching her fiancé in bed with her own sister just weeks before their wedding.
Humiliated and heartbroken, Ava makes a reckless decision that changes everything: a contract marriage to a stranger. What she doesn't know is that her new husband is Elias Ward,a powerful, cold-hearted billionaire with secrets of his own.
Thrown into a world of wealth, power, and hidden enemies, Ava finds herself entangled in a dangerous game of revenge, lies, and unexpected passion. As she rises from the ashes of betrayal, those who once destroyed her will stop at nothing to bring her down even if it means exposing deadly secrets buried in her past.
But when love begins to bloom in the most unexpected place, Ava must decide,will she continue fighting for revenge, or risk everything for a second chance at love?
In a story filled with scandal, heartbreak, and justice, one woman's pain becomes her greatest strength... and her ultimate weapon.
9.2
For three years, Rachel lived in a marriage that almost no one knew existed.
To the outside world, Captain Jared Holland-the cold and powerful second son of the influential Holland family-was single.
Only a handful of people knew the truth: Rachel was his legal wife. Their marriage had begun because of a mistake and was bound by a prenuptial agreement that promised it would end quietly after three years.
And in Jared's heart, there had always been someone else-Olivia, his foster sister and first love.
When Rachel returns from a grueling flight and sees a video of Jared desperately carrying Olivia to the hospital, the last illusion she held onto finally shatters. That same night, she signs the divorce papers and walks away with nothing but a suitcase and her dignity.
But when the time comes to finalize the divorce, Jared refuses to sign-always finding excuses to delay it.
The woman he once ignored is now determined to leave.
And the man who never valued her is suddenly unwilling to let her go.
Rachel looked at the man in front of her and frowned: "Jared what are you playing? Sign the divorce papers."
Jared smiled, "Darling, I am sorry, I was wrong. Please, let's not get divorce."
7.4
Bailey, an invisible shadow to the powerful Douglas family, stood in the freezing rain, watching City Hall. For five long years, she’d been used to being forgotten. But today, her entire world shattered as her fiancé, Jameson, walked out with another woman, Haleigh, holding their fresh marriage certificates.
Jameson scooped Haleigh into his arms, treating her like fragile glass, convinced she’d saved him from a burning car five years ago. He never knew it was Bailey who pulled him from the flames, nor that Haleigh's "sickness" had left Bailey with an ugly scar from donating bone marrow, making her a mere family blood bank.
Watching them kiss, pure nausea rose from years of blame. Bailey later found a joyous celebration for Haleigh at the manor. Her wet arrival drew only cold annoyance; Jameson gave pitying instructions before all four men rushed to Haleigh’s side when she faked a cough.
Haleigh, with a sweet smile, presented Bailey a "gift"—a velvet box. Forced to open it, a venomous Brown Recluse spider dropped onto Bailey's hand, sinking its fangs deep. As white-hot agony exploded and her vision blurred, Haleigh theatrically screamed, deliberately scraping her forehead.
The men, blind with panic for Haleigh’s minor scratch, roared at Bailey, shoved her to the floor, and rushed Haleigh to the car. Left to die alone, struggling for breath as her body shut down, Bailey knew this was the end of playing their disgusting game. She had already activated her hidden trust fund, planning to buy a remote island and disappear forever.
9.1
I woke up strapped to a freezing operating table, a gaping hole crudely sutured over my heart.
Joi Rocha, my supposed guardian, stood nearby holding a glowing vial that contained my freshly extracted Phoenix gene sequence.
"Don't blame me, sweetheart. Gayla's body is just too weak. She needs this sequence more than you do."
In my past life, I endured years of illegal biological harvests for this family. My fiancé Brennon watched with cold eyes as they ripped the gene from my chest, while the elite academy students filmed and mocked my bleeding, broken body. They stripped me of my status, drained every drop of my worth, and left me to die in a freezing tomb just so their precious fake daughter could thrive.
Until my dying breath, I didn't understand. I had given them my absolute loyalty, so why was I treated like disposable medical waste? Why did my life mean absolutely nothing to them?
But opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the exact day they stole my core.
This time, I didn't cry or beg. I stared dead into Joi's eyes and smiled.
I detonated the residual energy in my chest to incinerate Gayla's stolen sequence, faked my own flatline, and injected myself with a hidden dark matter drive to completely rewrite my DNA.
If they wanted to play God with my life, I was going to burn their entire world to ash.
8.8
Sold for scraps.Saved by a monster. Destined to rule them all.
Faith is a "Dud", a wolfless orphan living in the shadows of the trenches. Treated as a servant by her own family, she hides a mind more brilliant than any Alpha's instinct. But in the process of winning a life-changing scholarship, she is betrayed. Drugged and sold to traffickers by her own aunt, Faith thought her life was over -until she falls from a third-story window and lands on the hood of a car that belongs to the most dangerous man in the country.
Killian Nightshade. Billionaire. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. A man who rules with ice in his veins and power in his hands.
Killian doesn't do favors. He makes investments. He claims Faith as his "Personal Shadow" to work off the debt of his ruined car. But as he forces her into the shark-infested waters of the North Elite Academy, he finds himself breaking his own rule: Never get attached to the help.
While Faith battles ruthless bullies and the predatory interest of Killian's rival, Silas, a twenty-year-old secret begins to stir in her blood. She isn't just a Dud. She is a legend. And when the girl who was sold for scraps finally shifts, the entire werewolf world will have to decide: Will they bow to their new Queen, or be burned by her fire?
9.8
I spent ten years locked in an asylum, heavily sedated, until my wealthy family dragged me back to their Hamptons estate. I pretended to be a brain-damaged lunatic to survive.
They didn't bring me back out of love. The Holden family was bleeding money, and they desperately needed me dead to inherit my massive trust fund shares.
My step-cousin Cristian was the mastermind behind the purge. First, he tried to quietly murder our billionaire grandfather with a mutated toxic orchid. Then, he ordered a guard to drop a deadly Gaboon viper into my bedroom in the dead of night. My father was a spineless coward, my mother was drugged into a stupor by the family doctor, and my brother was a crippled addict. They all stood by as I was thrown into the freezing mud, treated like garbage.
"She is a disgrace to this family! Get her back to the asylum immediately!"
My uncle roared, completely unaware that my brain was forged in a decade of clandestine warfare. But the strangest part wasn't my hidden combat skills. It was that my blood relatives could suddenly hear my cold, tactical inner thoughts.
Through my silent, telepathic broadcasts, I exposed Cristian's poison to my grandfather, woke my mother from her chemical haze, and turned my paralyzed brother into a ruthless, blood-soaked protector. Still playing the shivering, crazy girl, I smiled in the dark. The real war had just begun.