Novels

My husband fell in love with a vibrant college girl and suggested we try an open marriage. I proposed divorce, and he scoffed in disbelief.

I was standing outside the City Hall with my fiancé, waiting in line to get our marriage license. Out of nowhere, a little boy ran up, hugged my fiancé’s leg and called him “Daddy.” I thought it was someone doing pranks, but then my fiancé smiled tenderly, scooped the kid up in his arms and said, “I just found out,” he said softly. “When Lana and I broke up five years ago, she was already pregnant. She came back recently, a single mom with a kid. People will talk. So, I’ll give them a proper status.” Before I could say anything, Lana Pierce walked over. Micah Langston—my fiancé—interlocked his fingers with hers, looking like the happiest man on earth. I asked calmly, “what about us?” Micah replied, “I have to marry Lana. As for us…” Lana cut in with a sugary smile. “Since you’re already here, why don’t you take a photo and post it on your socials? That way your friends will think you still got married today.” Then she actually pulled out her phone, pointed it at us and chirped, “Say cheese!” Micah tried to reassure me. “Don’t worry, Riley. I still love you. Lana’s like family. And the kid… I just feel bad for him. Growing up without a dad can really mess a kid up. I just want to be there for him. Let’s put our wedding on hold. When he’s older, we’ll explain everything. I promise I’ll give you the big wedding you deserve.” And just like that, the three of them walked off hand-in-hand to get their marriage certificate. I pulled out my phone and called Asher Lane—the guy who’s been chasing me for ten years. “I’m outside City Hall and in need of a marriage certificate. Want to be my husband?”

Mom gave us two choices. Go with her to the Donovan household, where we could attend the best high school with Mr. Donovan’s son, Caleb, but only get into a domestic university.

Fresh out of college, Clara Stewart asked me to take on a $500,000 mortgage for her. When I refused, she turned around and bought an $800,000 villa in full, for another guy. Holding up the property deed, she told me: "Jayden, the truth is, I'm actually rich. I've been pretending to be poor to test you. Unfortunately, you failed. I'm disappointed in you. Let's break up." I simply smiled and walked away without a second thought. The irony? I'm the son of the richest man in the country. I was pretending to be broke, too. Fast forward four years, we met again at the National Wealth Summit. Clara had just barely made it into the top 50 on the list, clinging to the arm of Henry Brown as they entered. She spotted me in simple clothes with no visible brand, holding a child in one arm and the keys to a Porsche Cayenne in the other. Thinking I was someone's driver, she sneered: "Jayden, you really went all out just to see me again? Let's be real, you're just a driver now, and I'm on the wealth list. We live in completely different worlds. Don't waste your time fantasizing." I did not bother replying. Honestly, I was only there because my billionaire dad insisted. I had finally cleared a day to spend with my son and now I had to waste it on that.

I ate a snack bar because I was starving from working overtime, and my manager slapped me with a $600,000 fine!

The moment I decided to leave Vincent Thompson, I made three bold moves. First, I listed all the expensive gifts he had given me up for free online—buyers only needed to pay for shipping. Second, I secretly sold the apartment we’d bought for our future at a fraction of its value and shredded the million-dollar custom wedding gown I had yet to wear. Third, I erased myself from the world, signing up for a classified, decade-long national research project that required cutting all ties with the outside world—maybe even forever. By the time Vincent had meticulously planned his perfect proposal, I had already vanished from his life. He never realized it, but I was quietly preparing to leave with every embrace, kiss and night he didn’t come home while playing ‘wedding’ with his childhood sweetheart. I had become the obedient, accommodating woman he claimed to adore, only to have him shatter my trust. One night, he finally lost control and asked me, “Why don’t you get angry anymore? Do you not love me anymore?” I avoided his gaze, my lips tight. But when I heard the flirtatious voice note from his childhood sweetheart, Zoe Williams, echo from his phone, I calmly made the call to confirm my decade-long national research project.

When my fiancé was on his deathbed in an earthquake, he made his older brother, James Stork, promise him that he would take care of me after his death. James kept his promise and took care of me for five years. One day, we got drunk and in the moment of recklessness, we ended up sleeping together. As a result, I got pregnant. Remembering the ring that James kept hidden in the drawer, I became excited and could not wait to tell him the news. However, as I entered the house, I was walking in the middle of James and his "one true love", Jane Lennox, having a heated lovemaking session. Seeing this, my face turned as white as a ghost and I fled from the scene. However, his hoarse voice called out to me, "Sandra Lane, could you help me buy a box of condoms?" I crushed the pregnancy result tightly in my fist as I gave out a bitter smile. After I returned with a box of condoms, James transferred fifteen hundred dollars to my account for running errands for him. Jane, his lover, turned her gaze at me after looking at the box briefly. Her eyes were full of malice when directed to me. Then she said, "James, your sister-in-law looks so innocent, but she sure knows how to pick things.” James's gaze was sharp as he scolded, "You're still young. Stop meddling in adult matters. Go stay at a hotel for a few days before coming back.” I obediently left and never came back. After that, I went to the doctor to abort our baby.

On the day of our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband's friend leaned toward him with a grin and asked in French, "How does your little assistant taste?" My husband, ever the considerate man in public, handed me a slice of my favorite cantaloupe before replying just as casually in the same language, "Very young. Very tender." "Remember to keep this a secret from my wife. If she ever found out, she'd surely leave me." The group erupted in laughter, each of them swearing they'd keep his secret. I stood there, my fingers tightening so hard around the wine glass that my knuckles turned white. They didn't know—I understood French perfectly. And I had already long known about my husband's mistress. But I never confronted him, never shed tears or created a scene. Instead, I quietly submitted an application to the country's secluded research institute. In three days, I would do exactly as he wished—disappear from his life forever.

After rebirth, I tore up the admission letter from Riverdale University with my own hands. And I rejected the passionate confessions of the two male gods. Just because I chose one of them in my previous life, Jeremy. But he ran away for Lindsay on our wedding day, which made my grandmother, who depended on me, angry to death. In despair, another childhood sweetheart took my hand and said to me, "You still have me, I will never let you down." He accompanied me out of the haze, but was very cold to me after marriage. I thought he regretted that we didn't have children. Until an accident, he ignored me who was dying and went to save Lindsay who was only scratched. I died tragically on the spot, and when my soul was wandering and helpless, I learned that my life was just a love game between three people. They had already written a will and left all their inheritance to Lindsay. And the reason why I couldn't have children for many years was that they bribed the doctor to remove my uterus in order to prove their loyalty to Lindsay. In my new life, I decided to stay away from all of them and live my own life.