My fiancé, who was once deeply devoted to me, suddenly claimed that I only saw him as a replacement for my first love. He grew to hate me with a burning passion. In the room next door, he was consumed by desire for another woman, giving in to all his passion with her. I didn't shed a single tear. I simply and silently got rid of the child that came at the wrong time. Later, my first love began pursuing me with obsessive devotion. But my fiancé slapped himself so hard that blood flowed from his nose and mouth. "Please, don't leave me. I'm willing to be his replacement. Just one look from you is all I ask!" I kicked him hard in the chest. "You think you deserve to be his replacement? You're not even qualified."

To please his first love, my fiancé Jace Jardine exposed my father's identity as an undercover agent in front of everyone. The smuggling ring captured him soon after. They tortured my father for days before carving him apart and dumping his body into saltwater, leaving him to die in unimaginable pain.   Shattered by grief, I had no one left to rely on except my cousin, Rowan Sutton, who rushed back from overseas with his elite team to seek justice for my father. He exhausted every connection he had to investigate the case and swore that one day, he would uncover the truth and make those responsible pay.   Grateful beyond words, I broke off my engagement with Jace Jardine and married Rowan, the man who had stayed beside me through the darkest time of my life.   Five years later, I stood outside the terrace of our estate and overheard a conversation drifting from the garden below.   "Every time Clarissa looks at me, it feels like she wants to kill me." My ex-fiancé Jace gave a low laugh before continuing, "But if she ever found out that the man who betrayed her father was actually the husband sharing her bed every night... do you think she'd lose her mind?"   The coffee cup in my hands shook violently against the stone railing.   Then his amused voice rang out again. "Rowan, you really are cruel. Clarissa trusted you more than anyone since the day you met. After her father's death, she treated you like the only person she had left in this world. And all these years, she never knew the man who exposed her father's identity to the smugglers... was you!"

The day after the tenth time Sean Lawson and I had finalized our wedding date, he brushed past me to warmly greet his adoptive sister, Lilly Howard. He handed her a bunch of crimson roses as she descended from the stage, declaring, "In this life, my only vow is to protect you, my princess!" Standing on the fringes of the applauding audience, I made a firm decision to leave. After five long years of engagement, it was at that precise moment I truly let go.

My boyfriend, Samuel Scott, found himself caught up in a game of Truth or Dare, ending up in a make-believe wedding with his childhood sweetheart, Sophia Hall. At the graduation ceremony, I was frantically searching for Samuel with a pregnancy test report in hand. Meanwhile, he was at a party, engrossed in a game of Truth or Dare with his buddies. I texted him about the pregnancy, and he replied instantly. Samuel: Don't worry. We'll tie the knot right after graduation and start a family. But three days later, as I passed by a hotel, a polished photo of him and Sophia locked in an intimate embrace had been turned into a wedding display. I calmly asked how he had become someone else's groom. Before he could say anything, Sophia, eyes brimming with tears, explained in a shaky voice, "Nina, my mom's on her deathbed. Her dying wish was to see me marry Samuel. Samuel's just doing me a favor. Blame me if you must!" Samuel cradled her tenderly, his gaze icy as it met mine. "I lost a dare, leading to this mock wedding with Sophia. I'll explain everything when her mom's wish is fulfilled. Stop overreacting." I let out a sneer, said nothing more, and walked away. The following day, I went to the hospital for an abortion. By the third day, I had packed up and left town. Finally, Samuel realized he could no longer reach me by any means. A wave of panic swept over him.

My perfect husband of eight years gave me a ridiculously expensive necklace. Then he said to me, "Xenia Blake, let's get a divorce. I want to make her my wife." Bright and early the very next morning, we were at the county clerk's office, signing the papers to finalize our divorce. That night, Lucian Brooks did not come home. He reserved my favorite restaurant to celebrate his newfound freedom with his new girlfriend. All the while, my phone kept buzzing with one notification after another. A: Xenia, can we meet up right now? B: Xenia, I've never stopped thinking about you. C: Xenia, I'm still waiting for you at our old spot.

At a friend's birthday party, Ivy Blair, Miles Gray's ex-girlfriend, cut the steak into pieces for him. Every single eye in the room snapped toward me, and every pair of eyes was glued to my face, waiting to see how I would react. But I wiped my hands clean, then slowly started clapping and wished them a lifetime of growing old together. I said, "Come on, the atmosphere is perfect right now. Why don't you two kiss?"

I've been acting as Clara Hayes's "brother" for ten years. I'm done. I stubbed out my cigarette on the ground and asked her, "Clara, do you want to marry me?" "Ethan, I..." I understood everything from her hesitation. I nodded, turned around, and went on a blind date. But when I finally gave up waiting for Clara and decided to marry the girl who had always been by my side, Clara changed her mind. She tugged at my sleeve, begging me desperately, "Ethan, don't marry her. Marry me instead. Please."

For ten thousand dollars, I used despicable means to saddle Adrian, whom I had loved for three years, with a public scandal. As the only son of a diplomatic family, he could no longer pursue his dream of working at the State Department. "Natalie, is that all I'm worth to you—ten thousand dollars?" I sneered indifferently. "It's because they offered a high price, not because you're worth it." Furious, Adrian sent me to work at Nocturne, where different guests humiliated me day after day. Later, when more than a dozen thugs finally got off me, Adrian burst through the door. His eyes bloodshot, he demanded, "Natalie, do you love money this much?" Covered in wounds, I sneered, "This time, it's over a hundred thousand." Afterward, Adrian took all the money he had and knelt outside the Ashborne Embassy in Aldoria. "Natalie, I'm giving you all of this. Please, come back."

After my husband accidentally lost his eyesight, his abilities in bed weakened significantly. Besides taking care of him, I also had to endure emptiness and loneliness. My best friend couldn't bear to see me suffer, so she introduced me to a male caregiver who understood physiotherapy. In the downtime while giving my husband treatment, he lifted my body. "Try to hold back your moans. If he finds out, I won't take responsibility."

For money, I married a rich old man. He may have wealth, but he's old, all ambition and no ability. Not only is his passion short-lived, barely three minutes of enthusiasm, but he also needs me to put on a full performance to keep up appearances. A wealthy woman in my social circle noticed how bored I was. She strongly urged me to come learn horseback riding at her equestrian club. I thought it was just ordinary riding lessons until I saw the women on horseback, each one having the time of her life. Only then did I realize this equestrian club was anything but ordinary.

When I suddenly had an asthma attack, my boyfriend—who is a doctor—disappeared. In despair, I called him for help. But the voice that came through on the other end was his ex-girlfriend, Natalie Sinclair's. "Sister-in-law, Ethan is celebrating my birthday with me. Is there something you need?" Then came Ethan Walker's impatient voice: "The hospital has nothing going on today. I'm on a day off. If it's nothing important, stop rushing me." Later, I recovered and was discharged from St. Catherine's Medical Center. I voluntarily applied for a transfer. But he knelt before me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me not to leave.

When I heard Nathaniel laugh and say to his drinking buddies, "Just thinking about how Evelyn's hands have touched so many dead bodies makes me feel... disgusted," I knew. He had fallen for the new secretary by his side. But my life was never just about Nathaniel Cole. So I calmly handed him a divorce agreement. But later, when he couldn't find me, Nathaniel went mad.

My husband is a sailor. 365 days a year, he spends 300 at sea. Afraid that I'd get bored at home alone, he often brings back all kinds of strange sea creatures. One day, he dragged home a huge crate. The salty, fishy smell coming from it was unusually pungent. He locked the crate in the bathroom and warned me—absolutely do not go inside. After he left, my curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the door. A tentacle covered in suckers wrapped around my body. From that day on, I held onto that tentacle... and things spiraled out of control.

After my older sister passed away, I continued living with my brother-in-law. Before I knew it, my feelings toward him had begun to change.

It was the seventh year of our marriage, and my husband sent me a thousand roses. The moment I stepped off the operating table, I called him and calmly asked for a divorce. On the other end of the line, his young girlfriend wept as she apologized. "Mrs. Hale, it's all my fault. Please, don't be angry with Christian." Christian Hale soothed her for a long time before turning his icy tone toward me. "As you wish."

On Christmas Eve, my girlfriend, who had told me she was sick, walked into a hotel intimately with a man, wearing a low-cut top and a mini skirt, her arm wrapped around his. The next morning, they came out of the hotel arm in arm and kissed with such passion that they could barely tear themselves apart. The man's voice was hoarse as he said to her, "You little temptress. Aren't you afraid your man will find out about us?" From where I stood, my girlfriend had all her limbs wrapped around him, practically hanging off his body. Then my girlfriend said very confidently, "It's fine if he finds out. He's a hopeless romantic. He'll beg me on his knees not to leave." I looked at the villa and Lamborghini keys in my hand, ready to transfer ownership to her. I may love her, but it seems she doesn't love my money.

The night before our engagement party, my fiancé answered a phone call and disappeared without a word. Close to midnight, his first love, Serena, posted a photo on Twitter. Beneath the star-filled sky was a single caption: Serena: After all these years, you're still the only one willing to stay up with me and watch the stars. The next day, I stood alone on the engagement stage in my white dress, spine rigid, eyes fixed on the ballroom doors. Even then, some pathetic part of me still believed Liam would burst in at the last second, breathless and apologetic, and say the words I had been waiting to hear. "I'm here." But the doors never opened. The guests exchanged uneasy glances as whispers spread through the ballroom. My parents looked humiliated. Liam's family avoided my eyes entirely. In the end, I picked up the champagne glass beside me. My fingers were so cold they barely felt real. "Thank you all for coming," I said calmly, scanning the sea of stunned faces below the stage. "Please enjoy the food and drinks. As of today, Liam and I are over." Then I tipped back the glass in one swallow, set it down, and walked out without looking back. I drove straight to the beach Liam and I used to visit together. The tide rolled endlessly beneath the darkened sky while the cold wind tangled through my hair. I sat there alone for hours, staring at the black water, my mind strangely empty, as though every emotion had finally burned itself out. Before dawn, I blocked Liam on every platform, deleted every trace of him from my phone, and erased ten years of love with trembling hands. That was the moment Liam finally lost his mind.

Lucas’s intern was dying. Before she died, her only wish was to have him stay by her side for one day. When I refused, Lucas Crane called me selfish. "It's just one day," he said impatiently. "She's dying. Why do you have to twist everything into something disgusting?" Was I really imagining things? Then why had I caught them together more than once already? In the end, I agreed. The relief on his face was immediate. Until the day I lay on his operating table for my abortion. The moment he finally saw my face, his eyes widened in horror. "How could it be you...?" I smiled faintly. Because I wanted you to regret this for the rest of your life.

On the war-torn streets overseas, my husband's first love deliberately tripped me, leaving both of us trapped inside the riot zone as gunfire and explosions tore through the city. She lost her beautiful hair in the flames, while I had all ten fingers broken and was forced to crawl on the ground every day, fighting stray dogs for scraps of food just to survive. Yet after we were finally rescued, my husband forced me to shave my head so her hair could be restored. "Ella was dragged into this because of you," he said coldly. "She's too kind to blame you, but I'll get justice for her myself." Later, Ella's long hair returned, soft and beautiful as ever, while I suffered from a rotting scalp, a body covered in scars, and the loss of my third child. By the time my mind was on the verge of collapse, I had finally dragged my broken body away from him and disappeared completely from his life. But in the end, the man who once forced me to cut off my hair was the one kneeling in the pouring rain, clutching those severed strands in his hands as he cried and begged me for forgiveness.

On our first wedding anniversary, I told my wife I had to work late. It was a lie. I wanted to surprise her. Instead, she got angry, blocked my number, and went to the movies with her brother. What she didn't know was that I had already bought a ticket for the same showing. I was sitting directly behind them. The movie was almost over. I was just about to reveal the surprise I had prepared when I looked up and saw them kissing. Not some accidental brush of lips. They kissed more passionately than the couple on the screen. "I was brave enough to choose you," she whispered against his mouth. "Are you brave enough for me? Take one step toward me, and I'll walk the rest of the way myself." In that instant, my entire body went cold. If courage and love were what they wanted so badly, then I would give them exactly that.

During a prenatal checkup at five months pregnant, I ran into a former colleague. She grinned at me. "You're already showing that much? Does Mr. Grant know?" "Couples fight all the time. It's no big deal. Just go back and set a wedding date with him already," she added. Lucas Grant had been my brother's close friend and my arranged fiancé. He had called off our wedding at the ceremony, in front of everyone, and then turned around to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Chloe Summers. He even slipped the engagement ring meant for me onto her finger. I tore off my custom wedding gown on the spot, swore I would never see him again, and left for Laurent to pursue my PhD. My colleague continued, "Mr. Grant didn't actually have a choice back then. He and Chloe never got the marriage certificate, you know. He said that as long as you came back, got on your knees, and apologized to Chloe, he would get the certificate with you and give you a proper wedding." Marrying two women in modern society? How ridiculous. I laughed coldly. "No need. I already got the certificate six months ago. And I'm five months along, with triplets." My colleague hurried off to tell Lucas the news. He thought I was just joking, colluding with my coworker to mess with his head.