
Ex Wife, Please One More Chance
Amelia's life took an unexpected turn when she learned that she was diagnosed with a terminal illness that left her only six months to live.
Heartbroken and devastated, the last thing she had expected was to be offered a divorce agreement by her husband, Adrian, when she got back home.
Given that their contract has expired and his ex-girlfriend, who was also Amelia's stepsister, has returned, Adrian wanted Amelia to make way for her. But the last thing he had expected was what she requested as compensation for the divorce.
What did Amelia really request as compensation for the divorce?
What happens when Adrian finds out that the reason why he has been keeping his feelings from Amelia was all lies and that who he wants to leave Amelia for isn't who she really is?
What happens when Adrian tries to win back the woman who he has neglected and sometimes mistreated for no reason only to find out that she's diagnosed with a terminal illness and that she has only a month remaining to live?
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Chapter 1
*Amelia*
I couldn't hold back my tears as I took another glance at what was written on the document I was holding. Six months, that's all I had left to live. I have been diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), the same terminal illness that took the life of my mother three years ago.
For a very long time, I have known that the illness was hereditary, but the last thing I had imagined was also having it.
"Ma'am, we are here already," the voice of the taxi driver sounded from the front seat, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Ooh, a minute please," I said to the taxi driver as I quickly wiped away the tears on my face, and afterwards I arranged the documents I was holding inside my bag, and with that I paid the taxi driver before getting down and making my way into the mansion where I was leaving.
Getting into the sitting room, I was surprised to see Adrian, my husband, sitting on the couch while manipulating his phone.
"Hey, you are back already," I said to him with a surprised tone, as this wasn't the time he usually came back home, but instead of replying, he shot me a cold glare before turning his gaze towards the centre table where a document was lying with a pen, and with that, he pushed it towards me and muttered, "Sign it."
Not knowing what was written on the document, I walked towards the table to get a proper look at it, and that was when I got the shock of my life. The document he was asking me to sign was a divorce agreement with his signature already on it.
"So you are divorcing me?" I asked him, not believing my eyes.
"Yes, of course, or the name on the divorce agreement – isn't it yours?" He asked me with a cold tone.
"It's because of her, right?" I asked him, and with that he scoffed angrily at me, as he already knew who I was talking about.
I had seen both of them on the television yesterday, him and his ex-girlfriend Melissa, who was no other person than my stepsister.
He had accompanied her to her press conference, where she announced her return to the modelling world after being out of the country for almost three years.
Seeing the way he was holding her during the press conference, I couldn't help but feel jealous; after all, that was the same way he always held me when we were in public.
Coming back home, I had confronted him about it, but he immediately reminded me of something I had almost forgotten about, which was the contract I had signed the day we got married.
Yes, unlike married couples who get married to each other out of love, we only got married to each other because that was what needed to be done at that moment to save the reputation of both families from a very serious scandal that could have ruined both families.
Love was never part of the agreement we signed, and I never made the mistake of expecting that from him at the beginning, but as years went by, I began believing that the agreement no longer mattered due to how real his care felt.
No matter how busy he was, he never missed an occasion when I needed him, even without reason. He always made sure his assistant carried my medicine so I wouldn't be unwell around him.
Whenever he instructed the chief, he only cared about my preferences – whatever I liked, he would eat anything.
With the way he cared for me, it was impossible not to believe that he loved me.
But all that illusion shattered yesterday when I confronted him about how he was holding Melissa, my stepsister, during the press conference. Not only did he remind me about the contract I had signed, which was expiring this year, which was the third year since we got married, but he also made sure to clarify the reason behind his care for me, which I had misunderstood.
My stepsister had taught him how a man should treat his wife; he always prepared the medicines because she usually fell sick just like me. Even after she left, he never told his assistant to stop. As for the food, taste was never important to him. So in other words, he had done everything he had done for me for the past three years so that he wouldn't forget what my stepsister taught concerning how a man should treat his wife.
Now that she has come back, he wanted me to make way for her, not just because our contract has ended but because she has always been the one in his heart all this while.
"You don't have to worry," his voice sounded, snapping me back to reality. "I will make sure to compensate you for all the time you have wasted with me since all this while, so feel free to ask for whatever you want as compensation," he said to me, reminding me that all the three years we had spent together meant nothing to him; it was nothing else but a waste.
Hearing what he had just said, I couldn't help but smile bitterly as I felt my heart shattering into many pieces. I should have known; I should have stuck to the agreement, because if I had done that, I wouldn't be feeling the pain I was feeling right now because someone who didn't have any single feeling towards me was divorcing me. The only pain I could have been feeling right now was the pain of knowing that I was going to die very soon.
Looking him straight in the eyes, I repeated the only word which had made sense to me in what he had just said.
"Anything?"
"Yes, anything," he said in reply. "As long as it's in my power, I will give it to you as compensation for the time you have wasted with me.
"Can we just live as a real married couple for one more month? After that, I'll be gone for good." I asked him while staring into his eyeballs.
"What?" He asked me as his face contorted in confusion.
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9.3
Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him.
She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort.
But Benton didn't take the charity.
Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him.
When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face.
Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician.
Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below.
Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her.
She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man.
But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion.
How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power?
"You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you."
Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.

7.8
Helen was finally brought back to the luxurious Gallagher estate as their long-lost blood relative.
But her new family didn't welcome her; they looked at her with undisguised disgust.
The matriarch mocked her stench of poverty, while her step-sister Candice treated her like a feral animal. The patriarch, Fredy—who had built his empire by betraying Helen's mother—tried to break her spirit. He blackmailed Helen into attending a high-society gala by threatening to cut off her grandmother's medical funds.
At the gala, Candice squeezed into a diamond-encrusted gown, desperate to seduce the guest of honor, Damian Montgomery. Damian was the most powerful man in New York, and he was currently tearing the city apart looking for a mysterious woman named Jane.
Overhearing this, a sick, greedy smile spread across Candice's face. She planned to impersonate Jane to claim Damian's wealth and completely crush Helen under her heel.
"Hide in the corner tonight. Don't you dare try to speak to anyone important!"
They all thought Helen was just a helpless, uncultured country girl they could easily manipulate and step on to secure their stolen legacy.
What they didn't know was that Helen was the real Jane. She was the lethal shadow who had saved Damian in the woods, shattered his grip, and robbed his highly guarded vault just the night before.
Helen calmly adjusted her simple black dress and stepped into the ballroom, ready to tear their stolen world apart.

7.7
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.

9.4
I was a New York photographer, but I woke up under the brutal sun of the African savanna.
Worse, I wasn't human. I was trapped in the body of a male cheetah, with two starving cubs clinging to my fur, telepathically calling me "Mom."
But I am a real man!
To keep my adopted sons alive, I had to fight hyenas and dodge rogue lions. But the real nightmare was my bizarre survival mechanism. Under extreme threat, I would uncontrollably shift back into my human form—stark, undeniably naked. I was forced to sprint across the plains with my bare skin exposed, carrying two cubs while escaping furious lionesses. I became a freak, the most confusing and humiliating legend of the animal kingdom.
Covered in bloody scratches and mud, I was pushed to the brink of despair. Why was I thrown into this beast's body? Why did my only defense mechanism involve profound social death?
Just when I barely survived a cliff dive to escape the lions, my path was blocked by two massive, highly intelligent prime male cheetahs.
But the alpha, Bradley, didn't want to kill me for my territory.
His intense gaze raked over my naked, bleeding human body with a dark, possessive hunger.
"You are full of surprises."
He purred smoothly, teaching me to magically summon a fur skirt before demanding I join his coalition.
"Oh, you'll come to me. I guarantee it."
Looking into his predatory eyes, I realized I was no longer just surviving the wild; I was the prey of a completely different kind of beast.

8.6
For two years, I was trapped behind my own eyes, a prisoner in my own skull.
A crazed fan had hijacked my body after a brutal car crash, wearing my skin like a cheap suit.
When my soul finally locked back into my flesh in a cramped hospital room, I realized she had destroyed everything I built.
This parasitic stalker had drained my massive fortune to zero, buying luxury gifts for a mediocre actor and turning me into the internet's most hated woman.
My phone was flooded with death threats, and the hashtag demanding I go to hell was trending at number one.
Even the hospital nurses despised me. One marched into my room, raising her hand to violently slap my pale cheek.
"You psychotic bitch, you make me sick!"
Worse, my sprawling Beverly Hills estate had been foreclosed and sold to a mysterious billionaire named Kasey Dominguez.
I had absolutely nothing left. No money. No reputation. No home.
The sheer violation of watching a psychotic stranger ruin my life while I was locked in the passenger seat of my own mind made my blood boil.
I refused to let her destroy my legacy.
As the nurse's hand descended, my atrophied muscles snapped into action.
I twisted her wrist until the joint popped, grabbed the keys to my freedom, and slipped out into the cold Los Angeles night.
I was going to take my life back, starting with the billionaire who thought he owned my house.

7.6
"One signature. One life-long debt. One night to change everything."
Elara Vance thought she could escape her family's dark past, until the ruthless tech-mogul Silas Vane corners her with a contract she can't refuse. Her father didn't just owe Silas money-he owed him a blood-oath.
The deal is simple: Marry Silas for 365 days, endure his cold touch, and play the perfect doll for the media. In return, her family's sins are erased. But Silas isn't just looking for a wife; he's looking for the woman who shattered his heart ten years ago.
Elara is wearing a dead woman's face, and Silas is a man who never forgets a betrayal. As the line between hate and heat blurs, Elara realizes the debt isn't money... it's her heart. And Silas Vane is coming to collect.