Mabby✨💜

"You can't deny everything just like that" I screamed at my so called boyfriend as tears welled up in my eyes, "Well watch me" he said casually,crashing on the sofa in his room, "We have to find a solution to this pregnancy,you can expect me to abort our baby"I said trying to make him see things from a better perspective but the look on his face just proves how stupid he thinks I am right now, "Your baby not ours"he said shocking me, "Are you seriously denying sleeping with me and getting me pregnant" I screamed at him as I let my tears flow freely from my eyes, "Look I accept that I slept with you but I definitely didn't get you pregnant,why don't you ask all your numerous lovers maybe one of them will accept that they released their shit into you" he said with a bored expression on his face, "What are you talking about,I don't have any other boyfriend apart from you"I said trying to fight the truth that was staring at me, "Oh please spare me all these, whenever you are done with this drama leave and shut the door behind you"he said getting up and walking to the bathroom while I stared at him wide eyed, "Just so you know,if anyone asks you who is responsible for that thing your carrying and you call my name,I promise you I will deny ever knowing you at all and trust me when I say I'll make your life miserable" he finally said before walking into the bathroom shutting the door behind him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Twenty-two years old Paige Moretti is struggling with her son and her very demanding job with low salary,she lives her life full of sadness and regret and to why she made the mistake that changed her whole life but things take a huge turn when her boss had a meeting with someone she never wanted to see again in life,Jace Russo.......read and find out what faith has in stall for them after 6 years....

My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger. During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience. I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants. My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure. Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn. Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery. "Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever. I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle — the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street — elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. “Call her Aunt.”

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything." For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'. While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time. He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree. "Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free." The submissive Amelia is dead. The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me. The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me. The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me. I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path. When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees. "They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting. "Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes." Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind. I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack. Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba. How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow? When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE. "Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me."

They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't. I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered. I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever. For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it. Then fate laughed in my face. My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child. Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband. But some secrets refuse to stay buried. Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms. It's standing right in front of me. And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.

For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire. But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters. For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions. He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage? He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk. "Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn."

I spent five years acting as the perfect, invisible caretaker for my wealthy family, meticulously managing their health and social standing while they treated me like a ghost. Then, my nightmare became reality when my brother Alon shoved me out of bed, forcing me to apologize to our adopted sister, Fallon, for a jealousy I never felt. My parents and brother stood over me, their eyes filled with unfiltered disgust, demanding I play the servant to a girl who was actively plotting my social destruction. They froze my accounts, stripped me of my dignity, and mocked my existence, fully expecting me to crawl back to them in tears like I did in my other, broken life. I stared at their entitled faces, feeling a cold, sharp clarity wash over me; they were so obsessed with status that they didn't realize they had just handed the keys to their own ruin to a complete amateur. Why was I still playing the martyr for people who would watch me burn without blinking? I stood up, walked away from their chaos, and cut the final tie, leaving them to face the ruthless social elite with a liability they couldn't control.

I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders. But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked. I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint. The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment. I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever. The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration. "Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me."

They ruined her face. Stole her child. Now she's back-and nothing will stop her. Five years ago, Raina Carrington lost everything: her beauty, her family, and her newborn baby. Now she's returned-unrecognizable, unbreakable, and with one goal in mind: to find her son and make them pay. But revenge is never simple, especially when it draws the attention of Leif Vexley-the most powerful and dangerous man in the city-who just might hold the key to her child's past. Yet she's not the victim anymore. She's the storm-and she's ready to strike.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.