Divorce Countdown story With Betrayal

Rachel Lloyd had been by William Lewis' side since she was eighteen. One day, after an accident, she finally regained her hearing, which she had previously lost while saving his life. She couldn't wait to share the good news with him. But when she arrived, she found him holding his first love in his arms and whispering sweet nothings to her. William always knew Rachel loved him deeply—to the point she would give her life for him. She never got angry and never asked for much. But this time, instead of quietly staying by his side, she simply signed a non-disclosure agreement. And when the time came, she completely disappeared from his world. When William first heard that Rachel had vanished, he laughed it off. "She'll be back within a week." But a week passed. Then, a month. Then, three months. And still, Rachel didn't return. Now, as panic set in, William searched for her like a madman. For the first time in his proud, arrogant life, he humbled himself and begged, "Rachel, stop this. It's been long enough." Later, he added, "Come home. I'll give you whatever you want." And finally, he said, "If I were dying… would you at least come say goodbye?" When they met again, he was on his knees. His eyes were red-rimmed as he held out a teacup. "Please have some tea... Aunt Rachel."

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."

They say when life throws you a lemon, you should turn it to a lemonade, even though some things weren't just intentional. “For the next three years, you will work under my son, Anthony. You will obey him unconditionally and assist him in developing the first humanoid robots. It’s all stated in the contract.” Melissa, a brilliant first-class robotics engineer, signs a binding contract to save her only sister who urgently needs surgery. Not only must she work for Anthony—the arrogant CEO of the Morgan Group—but she must also marry him. Throughout the contract, Anthony treats her like a lowlife, belittling her at every opportunity and even stealing credit for her achievements, convinced she would never dare to leave. But as the three years draw to a close, her supposed knight in shining armor, Josh, shows up as he promised. Will Melissa walk away from Anthony, reclaim her freedom, and rekindle the spark with Josh? Or will Anthony realize too late just how much he stands to lose when the countdown to their divorce begins? And what if there was more to the accident that left Melissa’s sister in need of surgery—and forced Melissa into this contract? If you want to feel first hand what it means for a lady to possess her possession, then get over here!

Everyone in the mercenary group knew just how deeply Liam Smith loved me and feared losing me. He even suppressed his dark desires to make sure I felt truly safe. No matter how dangerous the mission, he made sure to check in every single day. Worried for his safety, I hid my identity and secretly became his team’s hacker. However, after one mission, I overheard the others joking over the radio: "Chief was in such a rush to pick that lock and go after Wendy. What's so irresistible about her?" Through an unattended monitor, I caught Liam glancing at the camera with a teasing smile. "Didn't I tell you guys that she nearly wrung me dry the last time we did it?" It felt like I had fallen into an ice-cold abyss. My heart shattered, and I summoned the system. [I want to leave this world.] The cold, mechanical voice replied without delay: [Once you leave, all traces of the host in this world will be erased.] [Starting the countdown: Seven days left.]

Gilbert Pierce, my wife's male trainee, bragged that he could disarm a bomb just by relying on his senses and with his eyes closed. However, he misjudged it and triggered the bomb's secondary detonation sequence. I stepped in at the last second and used the most dangerous method available, liquid nitrogen flash cooling, to save the entire building. Gilbert was pulled off frontline duty and placed on suspension for review. My wife, Jasmine Clem, tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her cold. "If you defend him now, you won't save him. You'll just get dragged down and suspended alongside him." Unable to handle the pressure, Gilbert blew himself up in an accident. In his suicide note, he accused Jasmine of choosing self-preservation when he needed her most. Jasmine said nothing. She only locked that letter away in her study. Years later, Jasmine became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was captured and strapped with a timed explosive. Jasmine came to the scene personally to defuse it, but right in front of me, she repeated the exact same mistake her trainee had made years ago. She watched the countdown and smiled lightly at me. "See? He was just nervous back then. If I had encouraged him, he'd be a hero now." The bomb detonated, and I was blown apart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was about to defend Gilbert. She didn't know that inside that building sat the nation's most classified core servers.

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.