Betrayed Wife: Pregnant With The Ice Hockey Prince

For three years, I stayed in the shadows as the secret girlfriend of Briar University's star hockey player. But when I woke up in the hospital, I was greeted by a screaming campus headline: he had just publicly claimed my stepsister as his new queen. My own mother didn't even ask why I had fainted. She called to force me into a blind date for her social climbing, coldly warning me not to embarrass myself over a man who was a "perfect match" for her stepdaughter. Meanwhile, my stepsister paraded around with my boyfriend, playing the innocent victim while living comfortably in my late father's house. I was reduced to the ultimate fool, a dirty little secret everyone laughed at. Three years of my devotion, completely trashed for their calculated business merger. They thought I was just a timid mouse who would hide in a corner, crying over a lying bastard while they took everything I had left. But they were dead wrong. I wiped my tears, extorted my father's hotel shares from my mother, and walked straight into that high-end restaurant. Instead of my mother's pawn, I sat across from Collier Rivers, the legendary heir to Boston's most powerful sports dynasty. "I need a contract husband for one year." Within twenty-four hours, I had a marriage certificate, his heavy jacket on my shoulders, and a plan to take back my home.

I stood at the edge of the freezing pond on the Boone estate, my body trembling with a fear that rattled my bones. Across from me, Amanda Olsen looked immaculate in her cashmere coat, a sharp contrast to the jagged reality I was trying to hold together. "Why?" I whispered. Amanda just smiled, admitting she killed Grandpa Boone because he actually liked me. She pulled out a thick envelope-divorce papers Cordero had signed that morning. She told me he called me a parasite and was celebrating with her the night I suffered a miscarriage. Before I could even scream, Amanda lunged and shoved me into the icy water. My heavy wool coat acted like a sponge, dragging me into the artificial abyss. I thrashed and gasped for air, but Amanda just stood on the bank, watching me drown with her hands tucked casually in her pockets. As my lungs burned and the darkness closed in, I realized I had spent my entire marriage taking their abuse. I was the "foster trash" and the "gold digger" who let them win every single time. I was dying alone, hated by the husband I had tried so hard to love, while my murderer stood victorious on the shore. I never fought back. I just let them destroy me. Then, a violent spasm tore through my body. I sat up gasping, sucking in dry, air-conditioned oxygen instead of murky pond water. I wasn't dead. I was back in the opulent master suite, surrounded by red rose petals and wedding decorations. The digital clock glowed: October 14, 2019. I had gone back five years to the very night my nightmare began. The bathroom door clicked open, and Cordero stepped out, looking at me with the same cold disgust I remembered. But as I gripped the silk sheets, a new resolve hardened in my chest. This time, I wasn't going to be the victim. This time, the Boone family was going to find out exactly what happens when you push someone too far.

In her past life, she watched her brother, Andrew, destroy himself for a woman who never loved him. Family fortune gone. Their father's company gutted. Andrew framed, disgraced, dead in a prison cell. Then Chloe was pushed off a rooftop. The last thing she saw before the pavement shattered her body was Sloane Ashford's face-standing at the edge, smiling down at her broken form. That smile was the last thing she ever saw. Until she opened her eyes. Twenty-two years old. Two years before everything went wrong. The exact day Andrew was about to put a ring on Sloane's finger. This time, Chloe wouldn't scream at him. She wouldn't beg. She knew exactly what her brother feared more than anything-his sworn enemy, Julian Kensington. "What if I slept with my brother's worst enemy?" The thought was insane. She bought a custom body chain with the Kensington family crest engraved on its clasp. She slipped into a silk nightgown that left little to the imagination. She called her brother on video, let the camera pan lazily across her rumpled bed, and held up her new "gift" with a wicked smile. "Look what Julian gave me. Beautiful, isn't it?" The bait was set. The trap snapped shut. Andrew canceled the proposal. He raced home. Sloane was dragged out of Sterling Tower by security, soaked in rain, humiliated on every news channel in the city. Chloe's plan had worked perfectly. Too perfectly. On the other end of that video call-watching the entire performance from his sleek Manhattan office-Julian Kensington had one question. The girl he'd never met was wearing his family crest. His name was on her lips. And she was using him as a weapon. He leaned back in his chair, gray eyes fixed on the frozen image of her wrist, that delicate gold chain, that unmistakable griffin crest.

I was devastated when my boyfriend dumped me for my best friend, Candice. To numb the pain, I got blackout drunk and ended up having a wild one-night stand. The next morning, reality hit me like a truck when I realized the man in my bed was Jame Knight. He was Candice's older brother and the most feared, ruthless Alpha in our Pack. He coldly offered me a blank check to buy my silence, and I fled the penthouse in absolute humiliation. But returning home was a worse nightmare. I found my mother had given my late grandmother's precious moonstone necklace to Candice to "comfort" her. When I desperately demanded it back, my own mother and brother violently turned against me. "You are so selfish! Junior chose her because she is better!" They defended my cheating ex's new girlfriend and threw me to the wolves, all because they wanted to suck up to the powerful Knight family. I was completely abandoned by my own blood, my heart turning to ice. Why did my family treat me like trash while treating my tormentor like royalty? If power was the only language they understood, then I needed the ultimate power to crush them all. I pulled out my phone, ready to cash in the one favor Jame Knight owed me. But before I could dial, my mother frantically called me back to the living room. Jame Knight was sitting on our sofa. He placed my repaired necklace on the table, coldly announced to my terrified family that I was under his protection, and declared he was moving in.

Ciel rushed to the VIP hospital suite, terrified by an "urgent" text about her husband's grandmother. Instead, she found her billionaire husband, Dion, tenderly comforting his mistress, Baylie. Dion threw a separation agreement on the table, demanding Ciel take the public blame for his infidelity and leave with nothing. "Sign it," Dion sneered, "or tomorrow morning, every sordid detail of your time in the foster system will be on the front page." He threatened her with her sealed childhood records—the deepest, most painful trauma she had guarded with her life. The cruelty didn't stop there. To protect his mistress's fraudulent charity, Dion used his corporate power to get Ciel suspended from her law firm. Worse, just to punish Ciel, he deliberately funded a known domestic abuser, giving the monster the financial power to take away the children of Ciel's only pro bono client. For three years, Ciel had been a silent, obedient wife. She had endured his coldness, even foolishly hoping for the anniversary diamond necklace that she ultimately saw sparkling around Baylie's neck. How could the man who once vowed to protect her weaponize her deepest scars and destroy innocent lives just to prove he could? But the despair finally burned down to ash. Ciel didn't cry or beg. She calmly left the antique wedding ring on his pillow, shredded their only wedding photo, and completely erased her digital footprint from his world. When Dion finally realized what he had lost, the game had already changed.

I was a Vampire Princess, mated and married to an Alpha werewolf. But our child was neither vampire nor werewolf; he was nothing but a scrawny, feral mutt. In a fit of rage, Kaelen killed him and banished me. To save my baby, I drained every drop of my magic and died completely. Five hundred years after my death, Kaelen came seeking my heart to ensure his new Luna could bear an heir. "Five hundred years... has she learned her lesson? Tell her to offer up her heart, and I might just forgive her this once." But when he finally learned of my death, he fell to his knees before my grave, weeping and begging for forgiveness.