

After being driven out by her stepmother, Nora Seth encountered Hans Frank, the most powerful man in the capital, and they quickly got married. Due to her ordinary background, Nora faced exclusion in the high society, but she was smart and resilient, never giving up. Through her efforts, she became a top designer, embarrassing the elite ladies. What made her happier was that Hans doted on her endlessly.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

Aurora and I mated Alpha twins. Five months pregnant, I was attacked by rogue wolves and mind-linked my mate Kaelen ten times for help—he only replied coldy, busy searching for his kidnapped stepsister Vicky and accusing me of overacting. The rogues tore open my stomach, killing my unborn child. Aurora fought them, but her mate Ethan also refused help for Vicky. She shifted, carried me to flee, yet a mudslide trapped us; border patrol saved us, and we barely survived. Waking in the pack hospital, I only wanted to sever the mate bond.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

Lynn Clark gets an alert: her husband spent 100k of her money at Viva Club. Rushing over, she catches him with his young mistress, plotting to use her 5 million pension to buy a club for his so-called ""goddaughter.""Thirty years of marriage earns her just one insult: ""My wife's just a loyal dog to me, a simp."" She doesn't break down—she slips out and calls her niece, "Bring me a divorce agreement."Once treated as a cash cow, this woman is about to make the cheaters pay.

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.