The Alpha's Biggest Mistake: Losing His Fated Luna

On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency. I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist. The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed. He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset. "I'm going to make him wish he had never been born." After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground.

I was burning with a 104-degree fever when my mafia boss husband's mistress sent an emergency code, claiming he was bleeding out. Too weak to stand, my mother-in-law took the medical supplies into the hurricane for me, only to be killed in a rival hit-and-run. I dragged my sick body across enemy lines to finish the delivery, only to find my husband laughing with his mistress in his office. "It was just a loyalty test to see how fast you'd react," she sneered. When I told him his mother died for their sick game, he refused to believe me. He called me a manipulative liar and threw me out into the freezing rain. Days later, he tracked me down to the family mausoleum. Believing his mistress's lies that we were just faking the death to steal his money, he snatched his mother's urn from my hands and maliciously smashed it to dust. He even shoved me so hard against the stone altar that I miscarried our unborn child. I watched the gray ashes scatter over his expensive shoes, my heart turning to ice. How could the man I loved be so blind, choosing a cheap mistress over his own mother's life and his wife's devotion? When the police finally arrived to confirm his mother's tragic death and the mistress's betrayal was exposed, he fell to his knees in the dirt, weeping and begging for my forgiveness. But I just smiled, demanded my divorce, and walked away.

Denice Copeland's son was dying of leukemia, and his only hope for survival was a savior sibling. But the wealthy Montgomery family offered a cruel ultimatum. To get the experimental treatments her son desperately needed, Denice had to conceive a child naturally with Jasper Montgomery—her dead husband's cold, estranged twin brother. Jasper treated the arrangement like a clinical transaction, taking her body without a shred of tenderness and threatening to cut her son's medical care if she disobeyed. The ultimate betrayal happened when Denice collapsed from exhaustion at his hospital. Jasper's glamorous partner, Kira, suddenly appeared and took control of Denice's dying son. Kira made the little boy call her "Mommy" and ordered security to throw Denice out. "I don't know you. I've never seen you before in my life." Jasper stood between Denice and her own son, coldly defending the woman who had stolen her child. Denice was completely shattered. She finally understood she had never been anything but a cheap stand-in for Kira, a convenient breeding vessel for the Montgomery bloodline. Stripped of her dignity, her past love, and now her only child, her mind violently fractured in her freezing, mildew-stained apartment. Abandoning the last shred of her pride, she sent Jasper one final, desperate text. "Tonight. I'm ovulating. Come." Then, she stepped fully clothed into a scalding shower to drown herself, forcing the man who destroyed her to finally face the wreckage he had made.

Five years after my ex, Clay, traded me for power, we met again at an exclusive summit. He and his new fiancée, Destany, publicly humiliated me, calling me a trespasser and a thief for looking for my son's lost locket. Then, my three-year-old son, Justus, ran to me, crying "Mama!" In a horrifying move, Destany snatched him from my arms. She shrieked to the powerful crowd that I was a low-born commoner who had kidnapped a child of noble blood. The room erupted, calling for my arrest. Clay, the man I once loved, watched with cold satisfaction as guards pinned my arms back. He ordered them to take my son away and deal with me. I screamed that Justus was mine, but my pleas were drowned out by their accusations. How could this be happening? The man who once promised me everything was now helping to rip my child away from me, branding me a criminal. But just as they were about to drag me away, an immense power slammed into the room, forcing everyone to their knees. A tall, imposing figure appeared, his golden eyes blazing with fury. My husband, Damien, had arrived.

I sacrificed my womb and my youth to build Alec' s architectural empire from the shadows. He repaid me by bringing his mistress, Billie, to frame me for plagiarism and destroy my reputation. When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Billie used her influence to block his life-saving surgery. Alec held my dying father' s life hostage, forcing me to my knees in front of the woman who ruined me. "Apologize to her, Cydney," he commanded, "or I pull the plug." I begged. I scraped my dignity off the floor. But they let my father die anyway. Discarded and humiliated, I vanished in a plane crash, leaving only a wedding ring in a landfill. Years later, at a global summit, Alec watched his company crumble under the attacks of a ruthless new rival. He grabbed the woman in the emerald dress, his hands trembling as he recognized the eyes he thought were gone forever. "Cydney? You're alive?" I smiled, cold as ice. "Ms. Frazier is dead, Alec. I' m the one who' s going to bury you."

For years, I was known as Killian Emerson’s only weakness, the anchor for the ruthless crime boss while he built an empire. I thought it was for us, a life he was building to protect me. But then I found out the truth. My high school bully, Dallas, was his mistress. He paraded her around at galas, bought her penthouses, and funded her multi-million-dollar cat sanctuary. He bought her a sanctuary for stray cats while my brother was dying. I begged him for money for a life-saving treatment, but he told me he was busy and hung up. My brother died alone. Killian didn’t even come to the funeral. When he finally called, he sounded bored. "Sorry to hear about your brother," he said casually, while I could hear Dallas in the background asking him to go ring shopping. In that moment, the last bit of love I had for him simply died. He had forgotten every promise, even the one he made to ruin Dallas for carving "Worthless" into my wrist years ago. Now, he protects her. He even let her crush the last memento my brother ever made for me, then broke my wrist when I lunged at her. After a car crash he caused, he left me bleeding in the wreckage to save Dallas, without a single look back. But the biggest secret was yet to come. Lying in a hospital bed, a call from the county clerk revealed the truth. Killian and I were never legally married. The entire foundation of my life was a lie designed to control me. And now, I'm taking back everything he stole from me. Starting with his empire.