Dj Envy Cheating Mga Nobela at Kwento

My fiancé, Conrad Reese, fell in love with his secretary, Kelly Dunn, and insisted on breaking off our engagement. I tried to reason with him. "She doesn't have any power behind her; she can't help you become the heir to the Reeses' fortune. You'd be better off keeping her as your mistress." Kelly, feeling insulted, threw herself off a building in front of everyone. Five years later, after he became the heir, the first thing he did was divorce me, destroying my family in the process. "This is what you owe Kelly," he said. I woke up again, and it was my 22nd birthday. Conrad's grandfather asked me what my wish was. "I hope Conrad and Ms. Dunn… will live happily ever after." I bowed slightly and said, "Please, Mr. Jonathan. I hope you'll let me end my engagement with Conrad."

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

On the day of my marking ceremony, my mate, Alex Burke, and my sister, Rose Roth, are caught mating in the dressing room. This renders me the laughingstock of the entire pack. While I'm drowning in humiliation, the Alpha, Nate Hyland, steps forward and marks me in front of everyone! After we get married, Nate treats me exceptionally well. However, we're never able to conceive a pup. Eventually, I turn to IVF and finally get pregnant. Nate becomes even more attentive to me. He even calls me "Darling" in his sleep. I think this is a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This continues until I hear the conversation between Nate and his Beta one day. "How could you, Nate? Luna Diana adores you and cares for you so much. But just because Rose is scared of pain and doesn't want to go through pregnancy, you secretly switched their eggs and made Luna Diana carry her child? The pup is due in two months! What are you going to do about this?" Nate goes silent for a moment. Then, he sighs softly and replies, "When the pup is born, I'll hand him to Rose and let her live out her dream of being a mother. I'll tell Diana the pup was stillborn. She's just an abandoned Omega. Staying with her for life is compensation enough." So all the love and tenderness he showed me is fake. I immediately schedule an abortion, as I don't want this filthy pup. And I am certainly not holding on to this sham of a marriage either. I may be an Omega, but I am no one's pawn.

To save money for a house, I had been living a frugal life with my boyfriend, Desmond Wood. When Desmond received a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus, he bought me a branded bag. I was delighted, but I felt that he did not need to spend so much on me. Hence, I brought the receipt and the bag to the shop for a refund. The shopkeeper told me that my bag was fake. However, the receipt was real.

In everyone's eyes, my husband, Jake Payton, was the perfect man. Three years have passed since the day of our wedding, but we have yet to have a child because he wanted an 'extended honeymoon'. One day, I chanced across a message he sent to his friend. [I'm not Mindy's first, and God knows whether she's had an abortion before! The thought of having a baby with her just makes me sick!] Unable to hold back my tears, I turned around and shelved my medical report.

My three-year-old son looked nothing like my husband. Suspicious, my father-in-law secretly took my son for a paternity test. The results showed that there was no biological relationship between them. Furious and humiliated, my father-in-law erupted in anger, hurling insults at me and even threatening to kill us. My husband, just as enraged, slapped me hard across the face. "You shameless wrench! You've made me raise another man's child for three years!" As I stared at their accusing faces, I calmly produced another report—the paternity test between my husband and his father. It confirmed they weren't biologically related either. Their expressions froze in shock. With a faint smile, I said, "Looks like we don't know for sure who isn't part of this family, do we?"

I return to the country after attending an international anesthesia academic conference. That's when I see the news of my boyfriend and twin sister getting married. I'm anxious to verify its authenticity, but my sister drugs me and induces me. "A substitute's child will only be an unwelcome bastard even if it's born. I'm just helping it move on to a better life." Then, she slices me open with a scalpel. She gouges my womb out, causing me to die from significant blood loss. Meanwhile, my boyfriend believes her lies. He's sure he's not the father of my child. He ignores my messages begging him to save me. Instead, he spreads the word about me eloping with someone else. He even wipes all traces of me from his life. "I will never see her again, forever and ever." Five years later, surveillance footage of my sister cruelly murdering me surfaces.

One day, after getting rear-ended outside my office, I, Maeve Dahlman, call out for help, but Austin Cooper, who is simply passing by with Carmen Holt, merely glances at me impatiently, annoyed that I've disrupted their lunch plans. Instead of helping, he has his assistant take me to his private club and lock me in a room, accusing me of being paranoid and dramatic. "I'll give you three days to calm down," he says before walking away and leaving me in isolation. Eventually, I escape and call the police. An ambulance rushes me to the hospital, where doctors diagnose me with a brain injury that requires immediate surgery. I keep calling Austin, only to realize that he has blocked my number. Then, I see Carmen's latest post online, gushing about a romantic luxurious dinner with him. After I'm discharged, I cancel the wedding, destroy all the invitations, and finally call my mother. "Mom," I say, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to meet him."

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

After my husband cheats, my relatives advise me to be tolerant and forgiving. Why? Because my husband's mistress is pregnant, and I'm infertile. Even his parents hurry to our house in the middle of the night to say, "Don't worry—we won't let that woman step foot in this house. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours." Is that so? I sneer as I look at a medical report. Perhaps the child will have something to do with me, but it definitely won't have anything to do with my husband.