Before It's Too Late Novel Novels & Stories

Lily finds out that her billionaire husband had an affair with her stepsister, she feels betrayed by the two but they don't seem to regret and even care about their actions, she decides to leave her sham of a marriage and start over, with her unborn baby

My mother was critically ill, and I drove five hundred miles back to my hometown alone. At a rest stop, I saw a video online. A young man had posted: "First day driving long-distance as a nervous beginner. My ex followed me for three hundred miles, all the way until I got home safely." In the video, a familiar black Mercedes followed a white car the entire way. The top comment came from a burner account: "I'm the driver's ex. No other meaning. I just couldn't stop worrying. "He's timid, but always tries to act brave. I was afraid something would happen to him. "Please don't overthink it. Don't bother him. I'll feel bad." The internet exploded. "What kind of once-in-a-lifetime devoted ex is this? Get back together already!" I stared at that Mercedes. The plate number was GB-8860V. It was my fiancee Vanessa Tomlinson's car. That morning, she had canceled the plan to drive home with me. She said her company had an emergency project and she could not get away. I had sent her dozens of messages, and she had not replied to a single one. Yet she had time to escort the man she never truly let go of for three hundred miles. My phone buzzed. Vanessa had finally texted me: "Is the interstate jammed? Drive safe."

Throughout our seven-year marriage, my CEO wife, Ruby Irving, goes on yet another business trip on Memorial Day once again, so she can't travel back to my hometown with me. But soon, I saw the photos uploaded by her assistant, Wilbur Stork, on his social media feed that featured her sweeping the grave in his hometown instead. The caption writes, "Mom and Dad must be very satisfied with their daughter-in-law because the gloomy weather has cleared up in an instant." I chortle in amusement for a brief moment before liking the post calmly. Then, I comment, "I respect your relationship and wish you nothing but happiness." But my colleagues all go nuts over the latest bombshell. They are quick to form their chat groups and speculate as to how I'm going to cause my next ruckus in the company this time. Ruby soon calls me while sounding very stern. "I know Wilbur does things very brashly due to his young age, but you shouldn't have caused him trouble in the comment section! What will everyone else in the company think of him? How is Wilbur supposed to continue working in this company? "Moreover, Wilbur doesn't have anyone left in his family. What's wrong with me keeping him company just this once? People with happy families like you don't have empathy for others at all! "I want you to delete your comment and remove your like right now. Once the holidays are over, I'll free up some time in my schedule to go back to your hometown with you." As I listen to Ruby making yet another empty promise to me in such a casual way, I let out a soft chuckle. "It's fine." Once the holidays are over, we'll be able to obtain our divorce certificates.

From dating to marriage, seven years together, Kevin Fletcher bailed on fifty-two trips with me. Every single time, he had an excuse. A project deadline. A last-minute business trip. An elderly relative who suddenly wasn't doing well. And every single time, he promised he'd make it up to me. I believed him. Fifty-two times. Until last month, when I found a travel planner tucked away in his study. Inside were fifty-two plane tickets to the same city. And fifty-two photos of him and his so-called childhood friend, Fiona Snow. Written on the first photo: [She said she wanted to see the ocean, so I cleared my schedule and took her.] On the thirty-third: [She got drunk and said her biggest regret was never starting a family with me.] The fifty-second photo was dated the same day he blew off our fifth wedding anniversary trip. On the back, he'd written: [She's pregnant. I'm going to be a dad!] I wiped my tears away, opened my laptop, and drafted the divorce papers. Then I booked a ticket to Antarctica. This time, I was going to see the view alone.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

I was a fat, orphaned Omega girl. At 17, my stepbrother discovered my diary—filled with shameful fantasies about him—and from that moment on, he couldn't stand the sight of me. Now my stepbrother is back, graduated, and we ended up having a one-night stand.But he kept humiliating me, saying he only slept with me because of the mate bond.Then he announced his engagement to a highborn beauty. And just when I thought it couldn't get worse? I'm pregnant. I ran away, heartbroken and heavy with his child, never imagining he'd regret it—begging me to come back at any cost...

I volunteer to be the mate of Carl Wood, the Alpha of the Nightfall pack, as a direct measure to resolve the conflict between our two packs. He marks me on a full moon night. His gaze is so fervent in that moment that I interpret his look as a genuine sign of his attraction. Carl personally leads the elite fighters across the border two years later. He grabs my head, making me witness the gruesome dismantling of my mother, father, and brother by the pack; his gaze is alight with vengeful satisfaction. "Did your father show mercy during our youth when he destroyed my pack, Aria? Do you truly believe that having you here is enough to make up for this vengeance?" Carl assumes the position as the most powerful Alpha of the northern region, with Selena Hall established at his side as his Luna. I am kept barely alive, imprisoned in the depths of the dungeon in the pack. If I attempt to end my life, Carl retrieves the bones of a relative from the cemetery and incinerates them right in front of me, bellowing with bloodshot eyes, "You're not allowed to die unless I allow you to, Aria!" I immediately cease all resistance after that. Carl's heart was pierced by a silver-tipped arrow during his escape years ago. I had to implore the dark witch to use dark magic and substitute my sound heart for his. There are only three days left before the poison completely takes hold of me.

Kara believed her husband loved her, until he served her the divorce papers. As if that wasn't enough, he secretly got engaged to someone else, a ceremony he never granted Kara. Kara soon realized that she had been used all these while and her husband only married her for revenge. Poisoned and forced to have a miscarriage, Kara swore to get her revenge but died in the hands of those she trusted most. But now, she has been reborn and will be the first to serve the divorce papers. But what if her husband wants her back, especially after she found herself in a tangled forbidden relationship with her husband's best friend?

She gave him one month. He thought it was greed. He had no idea it was goodbye. Annabella Hills has been invisible her whole life—raised as a charity case, scorned by her mother-in-law, and forced into a loveless marriage with Alpha Antonio Greenwood to honor his late father's dying wish. For years, she's endured cold indifference from the husband who sees her as nothing more than an obligation, while the pack whispers that she's not worthy of the Luna title she's never been allowed to claim. When Antonio announces he's finally found his fated mate, Annabella knows her time is up. But instead of stepping aside quietly, she makes one final request: one month. One month where Antonio must treat her as his true wife, his true Luna, before they perform the rejection ritual at the Moon Rite. Antonio thinks she's desperately clinging to a title she never deserved. His mother thinks she's a shameless homewrecker standing between true mates. Even Christiana sees her as nothing more than an obstacle to be removed. None of them know the truth. Annabella isn't fighting for a marriage—she's fighting for a chance at the one thing she's never had. As the only surviving heir of the Ancient Wolf Clan, hunted since childhood and hidden in plain sight, she's spent her entire life unloved and alone. Now, with her heat approaching and time running out, she wants one precious thing before she disappears forever: a child to love, and to be loved by in return. But as the month unfolds and Antonio begins seeing his wife for the first time realizes he's been blind to the treasure he's had all along.

​"I bought you for three years, Spring. That means for 1,095 days, your body, your soul, and your very breath belong to me." ​To the world, Spring Willow is the luckiest woman alive—married to the legendary billionaire August Harrington. To August, she is nothing but a shadow of the woman he lost, a scapegoat for a tragedy she didn’t cause. ​The terms of their marriage are written in blood and cold hard cash: -​$300,000 a month for her grandmother’s life. ​One hundred rules she must never break. And most important ​rules of all: Never expect his heart. Spring was prepared for his coldness. She was ready for his cruelty. But she wasn’t prepared for the moment his hatred turned into a suffocating obsession—one that threatens to keep her bound to him long after the 1,095 days are up. ​Just as Spring prepares to break under his weight, a new shadow emerges. Another power player, equally ruthless and twice as determined, offers her a way out. ​The contract was signed in pain, but the ending will be written in truth. When revenge turns to possessiveness, who will Spring choose: The man who owns her, or the man who wants to steal her away?