Counterattack Through Pregnancy Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

While my husband, Gerald Brown, was abroad negotiating a business deal, he was drugged and spent the night with a female secretary from a rival company. The drug’s side effects scrambled his memory so badly that he forgot who I was. He kicked me out of the master bedroom and let the secretary smash my grandmother’s heirloom. I told myself he was sick and stayed silently by his side. But when I suggested taking him for a medical checkup, he hit me for the first time. “Who do you think you are? Only Ailey is allowed to touch me. If she gets jealous, you’ll regret it.” When the secretary framed me, he pushed me down the stairs, and I suffered a miscarriage. Late one night, when my heart condition flared up, I went to his study for medicine but overheard him talking to his friend outside the door. “Faking amnesia to bring Ailey home is one thing, but why replace your wife’s heart medication? Now, she’ll never return to the hospital for surgery.” Gerald just chuckled. “If I don’t keep her weak, she’ll go to the hospital and check the hospital records and find out I was never drugged. Ailey’s been timid since childhood and even went undercover for me in a rival company. I can’t betray her.”

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

All because I opened a window to air out the room, my husband’s childhood sweetheart, Celine Ashcroft, caught a cold. In a fit of rage, my husband, Ronan Blackwood, had his men bind me and drag me down to the ice cellar despite my being five months pregnant. "Don’t think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can bully Celine. If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I’ll make you repay it a hundredfold!" Shivering violently from the cold, I knelt through tears, begging for forgiveness. I promised that from now on I would serve his precious sweetheart well to atone, that I would never again let her suffer even the slightest harm. He only gave a cold order to seal the cellar, saying I needed to be taught a lesson so it would be burned into my memory. A week later, when Celine finally recovered from her cold, he finally remembered me in the cellar. "Vesper, have you truly realized your mistake? As long as you agree to kneel and apologize to Celine immediately, I’ll spare you." What he didn’t know was that by then, I had already frozen stiff in that ice cellar. And the child he had treasured so dearly no longer showed even the faintest sign of life.

Five months pregnant, I watched my fated mate’s foster sister pour oil on our sacred threshold and strike the spark. I didn’t reach for the pack-link. Last life, I screamed through our bond. Cassian—my Alpha, the wolf I’d followed since I was six—came for me. Pulled me from the flames while his foster sister burned to charcoal behind us. He said nothing against me, even arranged the best care for my pregnancy. But on the fourth night after our daughter was born, he dragged us to the Blood Moon altar. He stood upon the High Rock, silver fur gleaming in the dark, and gave the order. His enforcers pinned me to the stone. He watched, silent and still, as they lit the pyre beneath our daughter’s body first—then mine. "You let Eira burn," he said, while the flames devoured us. "So you burn with what you loved." When I opened my eyes, I was back on the floor of our burning den.

For seven years, I love Cody Rummish, clinging to his promise—once his sister-in-law, Luna Briche, conceives, our ordeal ends, and we finally begin our married life. But reality betrays me. Just months after moving into his home, Cody slips into Luna's bedroom 88 times—starting with once a month, now nearly one or two visits daily. Every night, I sit in the downstairs living room, counting the minutes, clutching a flicker of unrealistic hope. As the sole heir after his twin brother's fatal plane crash, Cody inherits not just power and wealth but also, seamlessly, his brother's widow, Luna. After the 88th visit, Luna announces her pregnancy. But instead of Cody honoring his promise, a public declaration shatters me—he will formally marry Luna. I unravel, demanding answers. Silent, Cody locks me in the bedroom's walk-in closet. "Luna was trapped in an elevator for 30 minutes! She nearly died because of you! Stay here for five days. Feel her fear!" Only on the sixth morning does Cody casually open the door with a chuckle. "Alright, lesson learned. Time to apologize, right?" He finds only the stench of blood and my cold, lifeless body. He's killed the fiancée who's loved him for seven years.

By month four of my IVF treatments, my husband's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of herself cradling her baby bump. The caption? [Having a happy ending with my first love. A family of three.] And there he was—his hand in the shot, making a cutesy heart with hers. Oh, and the cherry on top? He was still wearing his wedding ring.

I end up suffering from a miscarriage after getting attacked by a Rogue on the highway. At that moment, my mate, Jerry Shaw, happens to drive by me with his Omega assistant, Monica Reed. As soon as Jerry sees my white dress that's completely stained red, he covers Monica's eyes instantly, blocking her curious gaze. "Don't look. It's bad luck," he says coldly. The next second, the car speeds off. Jerry doesn't even glance in my direction. I collapse onto the ground and try to reach Jerry through our mind-link. Once, twice, ten times... By the 99th attempt, there's still no response. That's when it hits me—to him, neither I nor our pup matters. That evening, I find something under the bed. It's a pair of black lace panties studded with rhinestones. It's sexy, expensive, and clearly not mine. Expressionless, I toss it into a drawer like a useless scrap of trash. Then, I call Jimmy Norwood. My voice is calm and steady as I say, "I've made up my mind. Next week, I'm leaving the pack. I'll come to your territory and start the new job."

I have a premature rupture of the membrane when I'm 38 weeks pregnant. I have no choice but to undergo an emergency C-section. To my surprise and dismay, the anesthesiologist is my ex-boyfriend, with whom I broke up eight months ago. God, save me! Could I please have another anesthesiologist? It's my ex-boyfriend's child I'm giving birth to, and I suddenly don't want to bring the child into the world anymore!

On my third day driving for a ride-hailing app, I picked up a female passenger who was completely wasted. Early the next morning, the police knocked on my door. At the station, the woman pointed straight at my face and screamed, "It was this driver! He raped me while I was drunk in the car. I’m still bleeding down there!" Her boyfriend lunged at me, trying to punch me, but the officers restrained him. People at the station started pulling out their phones to record, shouting insults like "scumbag" and "pervert" at me. An officer who wore a gloomy face asked, "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" I calmly took off my baseball cap. I even thought about unbinding my chest. "Officer, there’s something I’m really curious about. I’m a woman. With what, exactly, would I have made her bleed?"

When I was three months pregnant, a pack of Rogues ambushed me. In the last moments before my consciousness began to fade, I begged for rescue through my mind-link to my Alpha mate, Adrian. But he never answered. I was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment, only to be informed that the Saint-Tier Healer had been forcefully taken South by Adrian to treat Evelyn, his first love, after she lost her mate. When I woke to the pain of losing my pup, my fingers shook as I checked social media, then I saw Evelyn's post: [I knew that no matter how far away I am or how much time has passed, Adrian would always come for me. He even brought a Saint-Tier Healer to ease the pain in my heart.] In the photo, Adrian's dark eyes, which were usually cold and distant, were focused on the woman beside him with tenderness. While I was fighting for my life and losing our cub, my Alpha was protecting another pregnant wolf. I chuckled at myself bitterly. It felt as if the bond mark on my chest was withering away. I then dialed a number without hesitation. "Dr. Clark, I accept the position at the Northern Ancient Wolf Research Institute. Yes, the sooner the better. I won't be holding a farewell ceremony."