Novel & Cerita Jasmine Bleu Pregnancy

My wife, Sophie Souza, cheats on me when she gets drunk. That's when she gets pregnant with her assistant, Dylan Hart's baby. By the time I come across Sophie's pregnancy report, she's already three months into her pregnancy. I tell her outright that I will choose to forgive her as long as she aborts the baby. But Sophie asks me coldly, "Which one will you choose? Me or your dignity?" I remain silent for a very long time afterward. In the end, I leave a divorce agreement behind and completely vanish from Sophie's world. But that's when she claims that she regrets making me choose.

She’s sunshine, glitter, and impulsive chaos. He’s suit-and-tie, headlines, and cold steel control. Together? Absolutely not... right? Jace Whitmore and Lily Thompson have *history*-the kind neither of them talks about, but both remember. She remembers him as the tall, egotistical jerk who kissed her stupid... then told her he wouldn’t touch her with a six-foot pole. RUDE. And infuriatingly unforgettable. He remembers her as the pint-sized menace who’s far too cute for his sanity. Her pout? Weaponized. That glitter obsession? Unbearable. Her... everything? Inexplicably addictive. And while she’s not his type (his type being supermodels with legs for days), his eyes, and maybe somethi

Meera Rathore has spent her life fighting against the future others chose for her. Forced into an arranged marriage with the heir of a powerful dynasty, she finds herself trapped within the walls of the Singh Palace—a place of wealth, tradition, and unsettling silence. Beyond the palace lies a forbidden forest where, during a monsoon storm, Meera encounters Laila, a mysterious woman whose beauty is rivaled only by the sorrow she carries. Drawn together by an undeniable connection, Meera soon discovers that Laila is tied to the palace's darkest secret. As forgotten histories resurface and long-buried truths emerge, Meera uncovers the stories of women erased from memory and silenced by g

On my fifth year anniversary, my wife, Rachel Sutton, announces her pregnancy on her social media feed. "After going through artificial insemination for the 39th time, I finally got pregnant with your child as I wished." The accompanying photo features Rachel lacing fingers tightly with her first love, Damon Calloway. I leave a like on the photo calmly. Then, I give them my blessings. The next thing I know, Rachel calls me on the phone. She roars at me furiously, "Damon is diagnosed with cancer! What's wrong with me bearing a child for him? Garrett Whitaker, you're being too much right now!" I reply coolly, "Then come back and file for a divorce. Once the divorce is through, you can go

Before the start of the marking ceremony, my mate's childhood sweetheart, Gracie Green, almost drowns in the swimming pool. Simon Lloyd is bent on thinking that I was the one who pushed Gracie into the pool with the intent to murder her. So, he has me tied up in the bathtub as a punishment. "One year ago, you pushed Gracie down the stairs and cost her her pup! Now, you even intend to drown her! Why are you such a vile and selfish she-wolf? "Anyway, the marking ceremony shall only be held once you've finally acknowledged your mistakes!" When I'm in the middle of getting corroded by silver nitrate, Simon is busy celebrating Gracie's birthday with her. When Gracie pretends to be all graci

I went through 100 hormone shots for him—just to finally get pregnant. Five years begging those shots to work—all for Rafe Morello. The Don with ice in his veins... but also the guy who used to wipe sweat off my forehead in the middle of the night. Everyone thought we were goals. Then I handed over my lab results, and the nurse paused, blinking up at me. "Sorry, what's your relationship to Rafe Morello? There's already a pregnancy under his wife's name." I froze. Carmela Vitale. His dead brother's wife. Spouse listed: Rafe Morello. Breathing? Suddenly optional. No tears. No drama. I just slid off my ring and tucked it into my bag. Then I called the number buried at the bottom of my

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, wi

Three days after giving birth, my husband leaves me alone at home to care for the baby, saying that he needs to leave on an urgent business trip. Three days later, I've just arrived at the hospital when I see a family photo his childhood sweetheart has shared on her social media. It's captioned, "This was taken during a trip. We're a happy family of three." I'm surprised to see my husband grinning in the photo and comment on it with a question mark. He immediately calls me to reprimand me. "Do you know how hard it is for her as a single mother? She doesn't have a man to care for her. All I did was take a photo with her. Do you have to be so petty?" That evening, his childhood sweetheart s

When I went to the hospital for a checkup to see if my fourth IVF attempt had succeeded, I saw Daniel Cooper, who was supposed to be on a business trip. He was carefully supporting a young, beautiful woman as they walked out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. Her belly was unmistakably round, and she looked like she was ready to give birth at any moment. Daniel froze for just a second before stepping in front of her, shielding her from me. He explained, "Abby, the Cooper family needs an heir to carry on the lineage. Once the baby is born, everything will go back to the way it was." I heard the certainty in his words. So I smiled, nodded, and quietly tucked my test results away

"I agree to the divorce," I said as I dialed my mother-in-law's number. "Matteo Bellandi will never agree to divorce me, so you need to arrange a new identity for me. I need to disappear completely. He must never find me." Despite six years of marriage, I never conceived a child. In the Mafia world, how many men remarried for the sake of an heir? Yet Matteo always stood firmly at my side. To have a child, we tried everything—ninety-nine rounds of IVF that resulted in ninety-eight failures. The final pregnancy ended in fetal demise. Matteo held me and said, "Whether we have a child or not, I will always love you." Everyone said he was deeply devoted and that I was fortunate. Even I beli