Too Late For Regret: The Girl They Broke

The 100-Point Divorce Plan

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.

Five Years' Love, Shattered by a Call

My wedding to Ethan, the man I’d loved for five years, was weeks away. Everything was set for our future, a beautifully planned life together. Then the call came: Ethan’s high school sweetheart, Chloe, was found with severe amnesia, still believing she was his girlfriend. Ethan postponed our wedding, asked me to pretend to be his brother Liam’s girlfriend, insisting it was "for Chloe’s sake." I endured quiet agony watching him relive their past, his every loving gesture now for her. Chloe’s Instagram became a public shrine to their "rekindled" love, #TrueLove emblazoned everywhere. I even found a groundbreaking clinic for Chloe, hoping for an end, but Ethan brushed it off. Then, I overheard him: I was just a "placeholder," a "good sport" who would wait, because I had "nowhere else to go." Five years of my life, my love, my loyalty, reduced to a disposable convenience. The cold, calculated betrayal punched the air from my lungs. He thought I was trapped, that he could use me at will, then return to me, expecting gratitude. Numb, I stumbled. And then, I met Liam, Ethan’s quiet brother. "I need to get married, Liam. To someone. Soon." The words escaped me. Liam, who had watched silently, responded: "What if I said I'd marry you, Ava? For real." A dangerous, desperate plan ignited within me, fueled by pain and a fierce desire for reckoning. "Alright, Liam," I declared, a new resolve hardening my voice. "But I have conditions: Ethan must be your Best Man, and he must give me away at the altar." The charade was about to begin, but now, it was on my terms. And Ethan had no idea the bride was truly me.

The Twin's Fatal Deception: A Reborn Wife's Justice

A grim news report flashed on screen: "Catastrophic lab explosion at Innovatech Robotics." Then came the update that made my blood run cold: "CEO Mark Reinhart critically injured but alive. His twin brother, David Reinhart, tragically declared dead." My husband. Alive. But a chilling memory slammed into me. Because this wasn't the first time this tragedy played out, just with the names reversed. In my first life, Mark died, and David appeared, claiming amnesia. But I knew it was Mark, changed and cruel. He, along with his venomous mother and David's manipulative wife, gaslighted me, painting me as delusional. They neglected my sweet Emily. They smeared my name, turning the community against me. It ended in fire and screams. Emily and I didn't escape that guest house. That nightmare of betrayal and agony was my first life. Now, the roles were switched, but the lie was the same. A cold wave of recognition, brutal and sharp, washed over me. How could this be happening again? No. This time, Emily needed me. I wouldn't be the victim. I would write a new ending. Let Mark have his stolen life with Jessica; he would lose absolutely everything else. My resolve hardened, sharp as steel.

Remarried To The Ruthless Mafia King

I found the instruction manual for my own abandonment on a dark web forum while my husband scrubbed the scent of another woman from his skin in the bathroom. The thread was titled "Burden Disposal Strategies." The user, RatKing88, asked a simple question: "How do I dump a loyal wife without triggering a war with the old guard? My parents love her more than me." The replies were brutal. They suggested faking a dangerous mission, forcing a paper divorce for 'asset protection,' and then disappearing with the cash. Moments later, Luca walked out of the bathroom smelling of cheap vanilla perfume and panic. He grabbed my hands, his palms sweating, and spun a clumsy lie about a "Code Red" mission in Sicily. "It is going to be a bloodbath, Sienna," he whispered, his eyes wide with manic energy. "We need to divorce on paper. It is the only way to protect you from the vendettas." I felt a cold rage settle in my gut. He wasn't a soldier going to war. He was a rat running off with his mistress and the family savings, leaving his stroke-ridden father and our daughter with nothing. He planned to wait for his parents to die so he could return for the inheritance. He thought I was just a naive, caged canary who would wait forever. But he forgot that canaries are the first to smell poison in the air. I didn't scream. I didn't expose him. Instead, I looked him in the eye with carefully manufactured sorrow and signed the papers. He thought he was escaping to freedom with a bag full of stolen cash. He didn't realize he had just voluntarily abdicated his throne. And I was going to take it.

The Fiancé He Severely Underestimated

My fiancé Jax and I built our Las Vegas empire from nothing. After fifteen years, he betrayed me for a "pure" girl named Ember, sacrificing a piece of our empire for her. He told our friends I was "too ruthless," and that he only felt "human" with her. He arrogantly believed I could never leave, that I needed our empire-and him-too much. To prove her victory, Ember found my mother's last keepsake, a small music box, and shattered it at my feet. The man I'd sacrificed everything for saw me as a cold, calculating machine. He thought I was ruthless? He hadn't seen anything yet. He believed I couldn't leave him. He was about to lose everything. I picked up the phone and made a single call to his estranged, powerful family in D.C. "Send him home," I said, my voice ice. "He's all yours."

Unchained From A Toxic Marriage

My husband, Donavon, was a serial cheater, but I was always one step ahead, catching him in the act. Then, I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. The only person in the world who could save me with a bone marrow transplant was his latest mistress, Jazmyne. To make matters worse, Donavon cut off all my funds, including the money for my mother's critical medical care. He forced me to publicly apologize to Jazmyne, humiliating me on a live stream while my mother died because the funds were delayed. "You will make a public statement," he sneered. "Acknowledge your harassment of Jazmyne. Apologize for your past erratic behavior. And you will do it on camera." Desperate and broken, I faked my own death by jumping into the Hudson River on that same live stream. I needed him to believe I was gone. Now, secretly saved and hidden away by a friend, I must fight for my life while navigating the twisted reality that my survival depends on the very woman who helped destroy me, and the man who orchestrated it all.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

He Chose First Love, I Chose the Alpha King

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think

Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren—the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet—already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"

Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret

After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"