Novels

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband, Michael Hudson, brought his pregnant secretary home. With a breezy tone, he laid out a few instructions, like he was discussing the weather. “Daniela is picky with food. From now on, every meal needs to be different.” “She’s timid and can’t sleep alone, so pack your things and move to the guest room.” Without bothering to respond, I picked up the suitcase I had already prepared and walked calmly toward the door. The housekeeper tried to stop me, but Michael let out a cold laugh. “Let her throw her little tantrum. She’ll come crawling back in less than three days anyway.” The moment he said it, the room erupted in laughter. Right in front of me, they placed a two-million bet—betting I wouldn't even make it through the night before begging Michael to let me back in like a pathetic little lapdog. But what they didn’t know was that a Maybach was already waiting for me outside. This time, I was truly leaving.

After my sister died, I married her husband, Nick Ambrose. That made me the stepmom to my five-year-old nephew, Jayden Ambrose. On my birthday, I accidentally wore one of my late sister’s dresses. In front of everyone, five-year-old Jayden threw my birthday cake straight into my face. He looked down at me, covered in frosting, with the same cold, emotionless stare as his father. “Don’t think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Ambrose Family,” he sneered. “You gold-digging tramp.” Then his voice dropped into something darker, hateful. “I wish it had been you who died. Then, we’d be lighting candles for your memorial… not your damn birthday.” “I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I’m doing is kicking you out of this house!” The cake, overly sweet with extra frosting, slid toward the corner of my mouth, but all I tasted was bitterness. I stared at the little boy I had raised with my own hands and, strangely, I just felt… done. If a child doesn’t love you, maybe it's time to let go. But after I left, both Nick and Jayden came crawling back, full of regret, begging me to forgive them.

When my mother died from an asthma attack, locked in her room by my son's prank, where was my doctor husband? He was at his ex-girlfriend's performance with our son.

"Eight years into our relationship, I took a knife for my doctor boyfriend, Ethan. He promised I could ask for anything in return. Everyone expected me to demand a proposal. Instead, I calmly said, “Let’s break up.” Then I turned and walked away. Ethan smirked and bet everyone, “She’s just a lovesick puppy fishing for attention. I bet she’ll be back begging me to take her back in three days…” He was wrong. I had a secret; I'd been given a second chance. In my past life, I'd gotten engaged, but Ethan's dream girl, Olivia, jumped off a building and killed herself. He took all his anger out on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dark, cramped basement. After I got pregnant, he forced me to eat massive amounts of supplements. By the time I went into labor, the baby was too big, and I couldn't deliver. I bled out, my body torn apart in a horrific stillbirth. This time, back to the day I took that knife for Ethan, I did as he wished."

"After thinking for a moment, I figured since I had accepted Mason, there was no need to cut ties with Felix completely.\nAfter accepting his friend request, Felix sent me a message, \"You're dating?\""

"\"Liam!\" Declan suddenly called his brother's name in a heavy tone: \"If you don't cherish her, don't blame me for cherishing her instead!\""

Just then, the gates of the Hawthorne mansion burst open.\nWilliam rushed in, his eyes filled with urgency, and shouted, \"Stop!\"

During our graduation trip, I was caught in an accident and tragically lost my left leg. Yet, to my surprise, the school beauty, whom I secretly admired, proposed to me. We were married for thirty years and always treated each other with respect. As I lay on my deathbed, I was stunned to discover that the 199 love letters I had written for her were discarded in a pile of junk. Meanwhile, she had kept another person's letters cherished in a safe. When I was gravely ill, lying on the hospital bed with my life hanging by a thread, she finally came to see me. Before I closed my eyes for the last time, the final words I heard from her were, "Next time, don't save me." I finally understood her feelings. She would rather die than be with me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back before the graduation trip. I decided I would no longer bother her, nor would I have any contact with her. Yet, the accident happened again, and this time, she rushed in front of me. She said, "This time, let me save you."

"It was clear they were having a great time in Miami, staying at a luxury hotel that cost thousands a night and enjoying freshly caught seafood. Even their son received a full set of electronics from Chloe.\nWatching the three of them so carefree, I couldn't help but smile with a sense of detachment.\nEnjoy your last grand celebration.\n"