Amna_H
2 Published Stories
Amna_H's Books and Stories
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My Fiancé Married Me To My Rival
rabbit At my best friend's birthday party, I drank tainted wine and passed out.
When I woke up, I heard the doctor say it could cause severe nerve damage.
I teased my fiancé Cayden Hewitt, asking who I was and where I was.
He hesitated, staring at me, then called my rival Liam Hewitt.
"You're Julia. He's your fiancé. You're getting married soon."
I froze, thinking he was joking too.
My best friend, Vivian Green, slipped her arm through Cayden's, looking every bit like a couple in love.
Eventually, I was about to marry Liam.
But Cayden, with eyes red from emotion, stood in front of the car to stop it, pleading, "Julia, don't marry him. I've realized I can't let you go." The Alpha Pact: Love Enslaved, Love Unleashed
Rabbit For my entire life, I believed my Alpha, Kaelen, was my fated mate. A sacred gift from the Moon Goddess.
But on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, he presented another she-wolf, Seraphina, as his chosen Luna, using a borrowed pup in a cruel plot to crush my spirit.
When Rogues attacked our pack, a silver chandelier fell towards us. Kaelen lunged past me without a glance, shielding Seraphina with his own body while I was left to be crushed.
He never even looked back.
Later, after falsely accusing me of hurting her, he dragged my injured body to an ice-cold hydrotherapy pool and shoved me under the water.
As I struggled to breathe, he loomed over me, his voice a roar of command.
"If you ever touch her again, I will strip you of your name and make you Rogue."
Watching the man I loved try to kill me, the last of my hope finally turned to ash.
That night, I accepted an offer to join the Silverwood Pack.
Then, I walked to the forge and tossed every memento he'd ever given me into the flames, watching the girl who loved him burn away forever. From Underworld to Crown
rabbit My fiancé, Richard Ahmed, had been unfaithful.
His mistress, Eva Marsh, sent me a provocative video.
In the video, Richard and Eva were passionately kissing, while his friends cheered loudly, "You two are perfect for each other. You should get married."
Richard's parents were holding Eva's hand, saying, "You're the only one we see as part of the family."
I let out a cold laugh and dialed the number of my father, the head of a criminal syndicate. "Get in touch with a team for me. I have a live stream event planned."
"Alright. The condition is that you return to Zlomont and become the new head of the Brooks Group." Five Years, One Devastating Lie
Gavin My husband was in the shower, the sound of water a familiar rhythm to our mornings. I was just placing a cup of coffee on his desk, a small ritual in our five years of what I thought was a perfect marriage.
Then, an email notification flashed on his laptop: "You're invited to the Christening of Leo Thomas." Our last name. The sender: Hayden Cleveland, a social media influencer.
An icy dread settled in. It was an invitation for his son, a son I didn't know existed. I went to the church, hidden in the shadows, and saw him holding a baby, a little boy with his dark hair and eyes. Hayden Cleveland, the mother, leaned on his shoulder, a picture of domestic bliss.
They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family. My world crumbled. I remembered him refusing to have a baby with me, citing work pressure. All his business trips, the late nights-were they spent with them?
The lie was so easy for him. How could I have been so blind?
I called the Zurich Architectural Fellowship, a prestigious program I had deferred for him. "I' d like to accept the fellowship," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I can leave immediately." When Love Rebuilds From Frozen Hearts
Gavin On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies.