His Unknowing Bride

My Marriage: A Million Lies

My marriage to the cold New York tycoon, Eli Drake, was supposed to be an impossible love story. I was the rebellious artist who had chased him across continents, believing I' d found my soulmate. Then I overheard a conversation that shattered everything. Our three-year marriage was a lie, a charade designed to protect his fragile sister-in-law, Kala. I was just the "lightning rod," strong enough to take the hits meant for her. The worst part? He' d secretly had a vasectomy, letting me endure his family' s scorn for being "barren" while he knew the truth all along. It all clicked into place: the public humiliations, the framed financial crimes, the "accidents" that left me scarred. They systematically broke me, forcing me to give a piece of my own skin to heal Kala and staging a car crash that landed me in prison. Eli' s justification was always the same: "Kala is delicate. Not like you." He thought I was strong enough to take it, that my defiance was a tool he could use. He exiled me, thinking I was broken and forgotten. He was wrong. I reinvented myself as the celebrated artist 'Lark.' And when he came crawling back, begging for forgiveness on a global stage, I knew my moment had come. My revenge would be a masterpiece.

His Ninety-Nine Betrayals, My Freedom

My fiancé, a Navy SEAL Commander, postponed our wedding 99 times for my manipulative sister. For our 100th attempt, I put my foot down. This date, or no date. He called two weeks before the wedding to cancel again. But this time, he threatened my career to force my compliance. Then I overheard the truth. He was planning to marry my sister-a "temporary" arrangement to get her into an exclusive therapy program. After he divorced her, he'd come back to me. I was his "certainty." His backup plan. My own mother supported it, slapping me when I refused to play along. "You will be a proper wife," she hissed. I had spent five years as a placeholder, my life put on hold for their drama. I was done waiting. I hung up the phone, canceled the wedding permanently, and volunteered for a three-year, off-the-grid assignment. But first, I took my wedding dress and a pair of scissors.

The Alpha's Rejected White Wolf Mate

It was the night of my first solo art exhibition, but my Alpha mate, Cameron, was nowhere to be seen. The air was thick with champagne and praise, but every compliment felt like a slap, calling me "the Alpha's mate," not an artist. Then I saw him on the news feed. He was shielding another woman, an Alpha Female, from camera flashes. The whispers in the room confirmed it: their packs were merging, sealed by a new mating. This wasn't just him being late; it was a public execution of our bond. His voice cut into my mind, cold and detached. "Kacie needs me. You're an Omega, handle this." Not an apology, just an order. That was the moment the last thread of hope I’d clung to for four years finally snapped. He hadn't just forgotten me; he had systematically erased me, even taking credit for the billion-dollar app born from my secret visions, dismissing my art as a mere "hobby." But the quiet, submissive part of me died that night. I walked into a back office and sent a message to my lawyer. I told her to draft a Rejection Ritual document, disguised as an Intellectual Property transfer for my "worthless" art. He would never read the fine print. With the same arrogance he used to shatter my soul, he was about to sign his own away.

His Mafia Princess's Revenge

My husband, Don Lorenzo Bianchi, the man who once took ninety-nine lashes for me, had just locked me in a guest room. I was four months pregnant with our child, the heir to his mafia empire. My crime was throwing a glass of wine on his mistress, a woman he had moved into our home. She cornered me in the garden, gloating that once the baby was born, he would give it to her to raise as her own. Later, she shoved me down the grand staircase, then threw herself down after me, screaming to my husband that I had tried to kill her. As I lay in a pool of my own blood, Lorenzo rushed past me, scooping her into his arms and carrying her away without a single backward glance. To force me to apologize, he had my parents brought to my hospital room and brutally whipped until they collapsed at his feet. He was no longer the man who had 999 crystals sewn into my wedding dress. He was a monster who believed every lie she told and punished me for her crimes. How could the man who swore to love me forever become this cruel stranger? But he didn't know the truth. Days before the fall, I had secretly terminated the pregnancy. I took the urn containing our child's ashes, filed for divorce, and disappeared from his world forever.

His Obsession Became My Perfect Escape

I've been married to Emit Arnold for three years. It was a shotgun wedding, forced after I woke up in his bed, drugged and confused. On that same day, the woman he truly loved died in a car crash, and I was instantly recast as the villain who had stolen her life. Now, my adopted sister, Gigi, a hauntingly perfect copy of his dead lover, lives with us. He adores her, while my own children run past me to throw their arms around her instead. He humiliates me in front of our family, suggesting I'm unstable and need to be sent away "to rest." The final blow came at the annual charity gala. He took the sapphire necklace he once gave me, the last symbol of a love I thought we had, and fastened it around Gigi's neck for the whole world to see. Watching him gently brush a stray hair from her face, a gesture once reserved only for me, I knew it was over. He wasn't just ignoring our marriage; he was publicly executing it. That night, I walked out into a raging storm. The next morning, I collapsed on a cold bathroom floor, miscarrying a child I never knew I was carrying. As I cleaned myself up, alone, I felt the last of my love die. My divorce summons was served on Gigi's birthday.

104 Sundays of Lies

My world reset every Sunday, leaving me a blank slate for my loving fiancé, Ethan, and my best friend, Maria, to carefully guide. Every week, Ethan would patiently show me home videos of our happy life, our engagement, and explain my amnesia, reassuring me of his devotion after my rock-climbing accident. But a crude tattoo mysteriously appearing on my ankle, spelling "HE'S LYING," hinted at a truth my conscious mind couldn' t hold. Then I found a hidden note: "THE PILLS ARE SLEEPING DRAFTS. DON' T TAKE THEM." My heart sank as I realized the "vitamins" Maria gave me nightly were keeping me trapped in this cycle. I started pretending to take them, creeping out of bed one night to hear Ethan and Maria laughing, discussing how they were siphoning millions from my family, and planning their Bali escape. That agonizing discovery was nothing compared to seeing them passionately kissing on the couch, my fiancé and my best friend. A wave of pure, white-hot rage, unlike anything I'd ever felt, consumed me. When I confronted them, Maria shoved me, sending my head crashing against the coffee table. I woke up in a hospital, staring at Ethan, and then it hit me: the floodgates opened. Two years of forgotten betrayals, 104 cycles of lies, every single horrifying detail slammed back into my mind. He hovered over me, thumb drive in hand, ready to reset me again. "No," I whispered, forcing my voice to tremble. "Should I know who you are?" Relief washed over his face. He thought I was broken again, unsuspecting. But this time, I remembered everything. And he had no idea the game had just irrevocably changed.

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

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.

Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Marrying A Secret Zillionaire: Happy Ever After

Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."

Too Late, Hubby, I'm The Tycoon's Darling Now!

For three years, Averie pushed herself through a secret marriage, waiting for the day she could finally wear a white dress and be seen as his wife. The night before she could finally walk down the aisle, he confessed without a hint of hesitation that he was marrying the woman who once rescued him instead. The "fake" divorce agreement she signed for him shattered into a real, icy breakup that finally freed her wounded heart. When he returned in remorse, begging for just one more chance, a ruthless business magnate pulled Averie close and muttered coldly, "You're too late. She's my woman now."