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Divorcing My Cheating Mate To Become The Lycan Queen

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 791    |    Released on: 13/07/2026

a P

t silent. The

shing the red mark on her cheek. His voice was tender, wrecked, dripping with a conc

front of everyone! You're a violent, unhinged, trailer-park nobody and you just p

ly deranged. Someone call the cops. Caroline, don't cry, we'

just wanted to teach her a lesson. Knock the box out of her hands so she'd stop being so dramatic

hat the fuck is wrong with you? She barely touched your

nto the cracked urn with the tenderness of a woman holding a dying child. The roses were c

ow, carrying across the si

lag-draped wood. The military i

ld. Their remains were repatriated this morning. I collected them alone because you couldn't be bothered to answer your phone." I

Even the waves

l your own dead parents' story to guilt-trip Caroline into not pressing charges. 'Oh no, it's he

ized it. A backhand, clean and shar

shrieked. I pinned her wrists, my knee on her sternum, and struck-controlled, precise, militar

hem up,

Vance grabbe

ing. Marcus lunged. I sidestepped, drove an elbow into his solar plexus, and swept his legs

urring with grim satisfaction. Five years of special operat

I'm overreacting. That I should apologize to the woman who scattered my dead parents in

ing, mascara streaked, sand in her hai

en closed it. Something in my expression to

ash from the sand with her manicured fingers, pressing it back i

oment I just looked at her-kneeling in the sand, mascara streaked, her

uiet enough that only she could hear, "reme

y. The urn against my chest. The white

e called my nam

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Divorcing My Cheating Mate To Become The Lycan Queen
Divorcing My Cheating Mate To Become The Lycan Queen
“On our third wedding anniversary, my billionaire husband texted me that he was stuck in a meeting. But a minute later, I saw his mistress's new Instagram post. She was sitting in his executive chair, wearing my dead mother's sapphire necklace-the only heirloom I had left, which my husband claimed he had sent out for a surprise cleaning. I didn't shed a tear. Instead, I went to West Point alone to collect my heroic parents' ashes. But when I brought their flag-draped urn back to our penthouse, my mother-in-law called it "bad juju" and physically attacked me to throw their remains in the trash. When I used my military training to defend myself, my husband didn't care that his mother had just tried to desecrate my parents' memory. He just looked at me with pure fury and yelled. "Are you out of your mind? Apologize to my mother right now!" Later, he even suggested we have a baby to make his mother happy, only to put me on hold a second later to comfort his crying mistress. For three years, I had endured his family's insults and his constant neglect, hiding my true self just to be the perfect, accommodating wife. I had given up my military career and my pride, thinking my patience would eventually earn his love. How could I have been so blind, letting them treat my family's glorious legacy like garbage for a man who never respected me? So, when his mother threw a hundred-million-dollar check at me to sign a divorce NDA and disappear, I didn't beg or cry. I calmly signed my name, pocketed the massive severance pay, and walked away to reclaim my brilliant life.”