Divorced And Pregnant: The Ex-Wife's Revenge
Clara's husband of three years walked into their penthouse with two lawyers.
He threw a divorce agreement on the table, demanding she sign away all her assets. If she refused, he would bankrupt her family and send her mother to federal prison.
He did it all for his new girlfriend, Corinne. After stripping Clara of everything, Kane stood by while Corinne publicly humiliated her, stepping on her fingers and mocking her misery. When Kane suspected Clara might be pregnant, he dragged her to a private clinic. He forced her onto an examination table and ordered a deeply invasive medical check-up, treating her like absolute garbage just to ensure she wasn't carrying his heir.
Lying on the cold medical bed in a thin paper gown, Clara's heart completely shattered. She didn't understand how the man who once promised her forever could turn into such a ruthless monster. She was indeed pregnant, but she knew if he found out, he would steal her baby and destroy her completely.
With the help of a tech-genius friend, Clara faked a negative test result and escaped his clutches. The next day, she walked into their company, threw a bold "I QUIT" note right in the mistress's face, and walked away. Touching her belly, Clara swore she would return to make them pay for every single thing they had done.
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Chapter 3
Clara stumbled into the Spencer penthouse, her limbs heavy, her mind a fog of exhaustion and humiliation. She had fled the paparazzi and taken a cab back to the only place she could think of to collect the last of her belongings before Kane locked her out for good.
She was leaning against the kitchen island, the cloying scent of gardenias thick in the air. Corinne was sitting at the breakfast bar, casually scrolling through Clara's phone.
"You have a disgusting drunk-puking face, you know that?" Corinne said without looking up.
Clara shot up, snatching the phone from her hand. "How did you get this?"
"My driver found it on the street and brought it in with your bag," Corinne said, standing and stretching like a cat. She walked to a vanity table littered with expensive perfumes. "And since you're here to pack, let's make it quick. Kane had all your things thrown out of the master bedroom. You have nowhere else to be." She picked up a crystal bottle and spritzed the air. "He's staying here with me tonight. He prefers my scent."
The smell of the perfume, mixed with Corinne's words, made Clara's stomach turn. It was a sickness that went deeper than her body; it was in her soul.
Corinne's eyes glinted with malice. She opened a jewelry box and pulled out a delicate diamond necklace. The one Kane had given Clara on their first anniversary. Corinne clasped it around her own neck, admiring her reflection in the mirror.
"He tells me the most wonderful things in bed," she purred, turning to face Clara. "He says I'm perfect. Everything he's ever wanted. Everything you're not."
That was it. The final thread of Clara's control snapped. The humiliation, the pain, the rage that had been simmering for hours finally boiled over.
She launched herself forward. Her hand flew up, and the sound of her palm connecting with Corinne's cheek cracked through the quiet room like a gunshot.
The force of the blow sent Corinne staggering back a step. She clutched her face, her eyes wide. But beneath the shock, Clara saw a flicker of something else. Triumph.
At that exact moment, the bedroom door was thrown open.
Kane stood in the doorway, his face a thunderous mask of fury. He had clearly just gotten out of the shower; he was wearing a black bathrobe, his hair still damp.
His eyes took in the scene: Corinne, clutching her reddening cheek, and Clara, standing over her with her hand still raised.
He didn't ask what happened. He didn't wait for an explanation. He strode across the room in three long steps and cornered Clara against the wall, his hands slamming against the wallpaper on either side of her head, caging her in. His face was inches from hers, his breath hot with rage.
She flinched, stumbling backward in panic. Her hip struck the sharp corner of a bedside table, and a searing pain shot through her back.
Kane ignored her cry of pain. He turned to Corinne, cupping her face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle. "Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"
He turned his head, and the look he gave Clara was one of pure loathing, as if she were a piece of vermin he'd found in his home.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he snarled.
"She was provoking me!" Clara gasped, clutching her back. "She was saying horrible things, wearing my-"
Her words were cut off by a soft sob. Corinne buried her face in Kane's chest, her shoulders shaking. "I just wanted to say goodbye properly, Kane," she whimpered. "I didn't want you to be in the middle of this. I told her you were a good man."
It was a masterful performance. Kane's anger at Clara intensified, his jaw tightening. He leaned in close, his voice a low, deadly whisper that sent a chill down her spine. "You listen to me. If you ever, ever touch her again, I will make sure you disappear from this city. Do you understand me?"
Clara stared into his eyes and saw a complete stranger. The man she had loved was gone, replaced by this monster. The last, stubborn ember of hope she had been clinging to finally died, leaving nothing but cold, hard ash.
She shoved his arm away.
Using the wall for support, she pushed herself to her feet and limped toward the door.
Kane didn't try to stop her. He just stood there, his arms wrapped protectively around Corinne, watching her go.
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9.1
I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.
It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.
My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.
In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."
When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.
I was met with a slap from my mother.
Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.
To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.
But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.
"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.
"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."
My blood ran cold.
They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.
They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.
They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.
I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.
I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.
"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.
I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war.
8.7
Explicit 18+ | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Dark themes, noncon/dubcon, extreme kink, power imbalance, group dynamics, knotting, overstimulation, and possessive claiming ahead.
A brutal omegaverse world. Warring packs. Rare silver-eyed omega Kai Voss lives hidden until a midnight raid destroys his safety.
The most feared triad captures him: Thorne Blackwood, a pierced sadist who pushes limits; Aurelius Voss, the volatile second, his knot pulsing with hunger; Cassian Reyes, the silent, amber-eyed observer whose fixation vows complete ownership. Dragged to their mountain den, Kai becomes their prize.
Defiant and sharp-tongued, Kai resists every command. His body betrays him with slick, aching need. On the first night, the alphas take him, one by one, then together. They stretch him past reason. Knot him impossibly. Fill him until his rim thins visibly. Slick eases the searing burn into shattering pleasure.
"Room for one more?" Thorne growls, forcing his pierced length beside the two already locked inside. He drags across sensitive spots until Kai arches, tears falling, his body yielding as omega instincts beg for more.
Three cocks locked and throbbing, owning him entirely.
"Fuck, he's taking us all," Aurelius groans.
Cassian watches silently, eyes blazing, plotting the next step to remake Kai forever.
Raw conquest becomes unbreakable obsession: relentless heats, punishments blending pain and ecstasy, jealous rivalries over cries, rare tenderness binding possession deeper.
Three ruthless alphas pursue the forbidden, shattering their defiant omega until he is stretched wide, ruined, reborn in their image. Relentless desire shows no mercy: tight entrances forced open, rimmed raw by impossible girths, slick-soaked and pulsing under unyielding ownership.
Hide and read in secret. Once the story begins, escape is impossible. Squirm. Ache. Hunger for every page.
DON'T BLAME ME WHEN YOU CAN'T STOP READING ALL 150 CHAPTERS ⚠️🔞‼️
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.
9.6
She was sold as a broodmare. He was a warrior with no memory. Together, they'll burn down the world.
Lyra has been called many things: half-blood, mongrel, dirty blood. Rejected by every pack she's approached, she's given one final chance-as a bride to Ronan, the cruel Alpha of Red River Pack. But when her wedding night becomes a nightmare, she stabs her new husband and flees into the frozen wilderness.
Stellan remembers nothing. Not his name, not his past, not the ancient tattoos covering his body. He only knows that when he sees a terrified woman falling from a cliff into an icy river, he must save her-even if it kills him.
On the run from a vengeful Alpha and his army of hunters, Lyra and Stellan discover an impossible bond growing between them. The moon has chosen them as mates. But Stellan's memories are returning, and with them, a devastating truth: he's not just any wolf. He's the Alpha of the North Star Pack. And a half-blood can never be his Luna.
Now Ronan's brother has sworn revenge, an ancient prophecy awakens, and three packs prepare for war. Lyra must prove that bloodlines mean nothing-and that the most powerful bond of all is forged in ice and fire.
He lost his memory. She lost her freedom. Together, they'll find everything.
9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.
8.4
Arlene was the illegitimate daughter of the wealthy Boone family, treated worse than a stray dog. To keep her meager scholarship, she had to swallow her pride and apologize to the frat boy who tormented her.
But he didn't just want an apology. He forced her to drink twenty shots of liquor laced with pure capsaicin extract.
"Drink us under the table, or take off your clothes and crawl out."
Arlene drank until her stomach tore, vomiting blood and collapsing on the filthy club floor.
When she dragged her half-dead body back to the Boone estate, her biological father and half-sister didn't care. Instead, her sister ground Arlene's SAT admission ticket into the dirt with her stiletto.
"Throw her out. Dad doesn't want to look at her before Hardie's engagement."
The guards threw her onto the gravel, leaving her bleeding and barefoot in the freezing night.
Arlene sat shivering at a dark bus stop, her dignity completely stripped away. She never wanted a dime from the Boones, so why did they insist on crushing her only way out? And why did Dr. Hardie Boone, the untouchable head of the family, look at her with such a twisted, terrifying obsession?
When Hardie's black Aston Martin pulled out of the shadows, he scooped her up, took her away, and locked her inside his penthouse.
"You carry the Boone name. Whether you live or die is my decision."
Trapped by the dangerous man who demanded total control over her life, Arlene finally realized that simply running away was no longer an option.