Bbw Cheating Novelas e Histórias

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

Zachary Lawson brought his pregnant secretary to my bridal store for a fitting. They had chosen a white gown. His friends were in the VIP lounge, betting on how long I'd last before I'd lose it. I lasted until the very end, where his secretary had tried out the final gown. I was still there, taking her measurement down to the precise decimal. "I can't believe your wife took your mistress' measurements. Her patience is impressive!" Zachary had sunk into the couch's soft caress, flicking his cigarette. "She's a barren woman who lives on my money. She'll have to get used to the part. I don't need a stepmother to manhandle my son." I pulled the tailor's tape back and showed them the bill. "The measurements are perfect. Two million. That's the deposit." Zachary tossed an asset split agreement over to me. "Sign this. Wendy's mood swings are horrible during pregnancy. She's not staying put unless she gets to be my wife. I'll need you to get a divorce and not take a single cent. Once the baby's here, I'll take you back into the fold." I signed the papers without even a moment's pause. Then, I tore the check into tiny little pieces.

On my 30th birthday, my husband, Miles Harrington, was out of town on a business trip. To make it up to me, he had a cake delivered. What arrived at my door was a Superman cake that looked like it belonged at a three-year-old's birthday party. I was about to call him when my phone rang. "Honey, you're not gonna believe this. That bakery messed up my order and sent you the wrong cake." I didn't think much of it. Instead, I posted the story on my social media account as a funny little birthday mishap. Comments started pouring in almost immediately. [Was it really the bakery's mistake, or does your husband have a kid somewhere?] I laughed it off. Miles and I had been together since college. We dated, got married, and built a life together. Other than not having children, we were the kind of couple people envied. But as the post gained traction and the comments kept coming, I decided maybe it was time to delete it. Before I could, I got a direct message from the bakery. [Hi there. I wanted to clarify, the delivery driver didn't mix up the orders. Mr. Harrington bought two cakes. He accidentally swapped the delivery addresses.]

My boyfriend, Liam Sterling, has a female friend, Lyra Kensington, who’s always been far too comfortable crossing lines. On our anniversary, she gifted him an alarm clock, leaning in to whisper loud enough for me to hear, “For timing. I’m afraid he won’t last.” At our engagement party, she sauntered over with a self-satisfied smirk and handed him a box of extra-small condoms as her engagement gift. The day finally came when Liam proposed to me. But just before we were supposed to register the marriage, Liam dropped the truth: “Lyra needs a nominal father for her baby, but I will marry you in eight months.” No one doubts that I would be as devoted as ever to wait another eight months. After all, I’ve already spent seven years by his side. But at that very night, I accepted my family’s plan abroad and vanished from Liam’s world forever.

To help my fiance pay off his gambling debts, my father and I worked day and night hauling freight. One night, while driving through the dark, my father got into a car accident. When I rushed to the hospital with the compensation money, all that remained was the final voice message on his phone. "This should be enough to clear Derrick's debts. He really wants to live a good life with you, but it's just that his ex-girlfriend keeps pestering him. Once you pay his debt, take him far away from those people." Holding my father's memorial portrait, I planned to place the five hundred thousand he had earned in front of Derrick. But when I arrived at a private club lounge, I overheard his friends laughing. "Did she actually believe you were drowning in debt? She brought over that much money in one go. What are you going to do next?" Derrick's ex-girlfriend, Jessica Nesley, laughed and chimed in, "Derrick, don't you think the fake debt collectors I hired were pretty convincing? What's next? Are you going to test whether she really wants a future with you?" Derrick flicked ash from his cigarette and replied, "Yeah. The final test is to see whether she's the kind of woman who only cares about money. If she finds out I'm the president of Waterson Group, doesn't resent me for setting up her father, and still agrees to marry me, then I'll believe she truly loves me." Hearing those words, I stared at my father's photo while my whole body trembled. 'Father, this was the honest man we both trusted. Derrick, this wedding is over.'

Jeremy Goodman had a bet with his friends that he would win the aloof and beautiful Bailey Scott’s heart in a month’s time. She was the volunteer who was going to donate her kidney to me. Jeremy had spent a fortune on this. I watched as he slowly fell for her. He even ignored the board of directors’ objection and bought the club she worked at. However, he earnestly said, “Whatever that’s happening between Bailey and I isn’t real. Don’t worry, once I win this bet, I’ll propose to you.” I had heard that same promise many times. While he played hero saving the damsel in distress, Bailey overheard the terms of his bet as she stood outside of the private room. She threw a tantrum. Jeremy thought I had purposely let Bailey hear about the bet. In order to appease Bailey, he let her take my spot for the overseas exchange program, which I had spent a lot of effort applying for. “I have the ability to make her save your life, and I have the ability to call off the surgery too. “If there’s a next time, you know just what I’m capable of.” After hearing his chilling threat, I finally let go of this painful seven-year relationship. He broke my heart way too many times, so I hopped onto a flight and left the country.

On the highway, when the vehicles of drivers on the same stretch of road went out of control and rushed towards us, Wynn Lloyd protected me by holding me close beneath him. As a result, he ended up in the emergency room, battered.In the hospital ward, a friend praised, "Your husband is really good to you. When the car came crashing, he protected you with his life, not caring about his own."I remained silent.Indeed, he was good, but it didn't stop him from liking someone else.Wynn and I had known each other since childhood, for over a decade, and everyone said he loved me to death.But who would have thought that such a person had a mistress on the side?He pampered her in every possible way, indulging her to the extreme.

That night, I returned from a business trip to surprise my wife. However, when I sneak home, I realize my boss is there, too. His smile deepens when he sees me; he tells me he's there to welcome me home because he knew I would return that night. My wife nods and agrees with him. For some reason, I can't help finding the looks on their faces odd.

Before my engagement, a fire broke out in my dressing room. The explosion sent shards of glass deep into my body. My best friend, Monica Addams, shielded me as we escaped the flames.  At the hospital, she stayed by my side as I clung to life.  She called my fiancé, James Miller. However, his response was dismissive. “Veronica isn’t feeling well, and I’m accompanying her to get an IV drip. If it’s no big deal, just drop it.” Furious, Monica unleashed a string of curses and called her own boyfriend, Lucas Smith, asking him to help find a specialist.  He brushed her off, too. “Stop overreacting. Veronica’s sick, so I’m getting her some medicine.” When I narrowly escaped death and met Monica’s gaze, I said in a low voice, “I want to call off the engagement.” Without hesitation, she responded, “If you end yours, I’ll end mine.” That was when both men panicked. 

I was shattered to learn that my precious child was not mine. My own flesh and blood was gone forever. I was not going to crumble under the weight of the revelation or consume myself with hysteria or grief. Instead, I channeled my pain into putting my mother-in-law behind bars and breaking my husband before moving on with my life.