Too Late For My Ex-Husband's Regret

I married Gavyn Pace, a powerful Dragon Lord, bringing my family's wealth and my lucrative alchemy workshops as my dowry. But on our wedding night, I discovered he was deeply obsessed with my delicate sister, Isabela. He married me only for my money and my dragonless, subservient status. In my past life, I foolishly gave him everything, hoping to win his heart. Instead, he and my sister took over my workshops, bankrupted my family, and falsely accused me of infidelity. My own family turned a blind eye, leaving me to become a pariah reviled by the entire capital. Finally, the man I had loved pressed a small, bitter cup of corrosive poison to my lips to make room for his true love. "A dragonless woman like you is a taint on my bloodline. Isabela is my true queen," he said coldly. As the poison burned my throat and my life dissolved into agony, I couldn't understand why my pure devotion was met with such monstrous cruelty. Why did they have to destroy my family? Why did my stupidity have to cost me absolutely everything? Opening my eyes again, I was back on my wedding night, the cloying scent of aphrodisiacs filling the air. This time, I didn't wait for him in bed. I drafted a marriage annulment agreement, packed my things, and prepared to leave them in absolute ruins.

After eighteen years in an abusive foster home, Chloe was finally brought back to her wealthy biological family, the Carlisles. But her dream of a real family was shattered when her fake sister drugged her and locked her in a hotel room with a stranger to ruin her reputation. The very next day, she was publicly disowned, tossed a few hundred dollars, and dumped right back at her abusive foster parents' decaying doorstep. Realizing she was now penniless, her foster parents immediately conspired to sell her to a notoriously violent, rich old drunk in town for a quick payout. "Yeah, the face is still good. Cletus will like it." She had to smash a rusted window and flee into the dark night, carrying nothing but a mysterious black card left by the stranger from that horrific night. She had done absolutely nothing wrong, yet her biological family threw her away like trash, and her foster parents treated her like livestock. To make matters worse, she soon discovered she was pregnant with the stranger's child. Desperate and completely alone, she was forced to swipe the black card to pay for her dying professor's life-saving surgery, knowing the transaction would instantly expose her location. Just as she stood in the hospital hallway, clutching an abortion pamphlet and deciding she couldn't go through with it, she crashed into a solid wall of muscle. She looked up in terror into a pair of familiar, ice-gray eyes. "I'm here to collect what's mine," the stranger whispered coldly.

My treacherous half-sister and my fiancé were holding their grand Mating Ceremony. In my previous life, they conspired against me, stole my mother's perfumery to use as her dowry, and locked me in a cold, damp cellar. My body became a canvas of bruises and broken promises. Amber's triumphant laughter echoed with Preston's sneering voice as they mocked my pathetic existence. My father and stepmother turned a blind eye to my suffering, eagerly handing over my rightful inheritance to secure a powerful alliance with the Alpha's family. I was branded a crazy, wolfless outcast by the entire pack, completely abandoned and reviled. In the end, I was hunted down by a terrifying predator with golden eyes. He ripped my mother's silver locket from my neck and brutally ended my life in the dark. Until my last breath, I didn't understand why my own flesh and blood hated me so much. Why did my father let them steal my mother's legacy? And who was that monstrous man in the shadows who took my life? Opening my eyes again, I was back on the night of their Mating Ceremony. This time, I put on a simple black dress and walked straight into their perfect celebration with the real inheritance documents in my hand. "This union, I object."

I woke up naked and drugged on a luxury yacht, only to find a marriage license thrown at my face. The groom was King Bennett, the ruthless, paralyzed billionaire titan. I wasn't supposed to be the bride. My stepsister Kassidy was. But my own father had drugged me and swapped us out like livestock just to secure his corporate deal. Trapped at sea, I hacked the yacht's network to find proof of my innocence, only to uncover something far worse. A hidden video of Kassidy in a hotel bed with Evan, my boyfriend of three years. "She's just so boring," Evan laughed on screen, kissing my stepsister's neck. My family and my lover had coordinated my absolute destruction. When I tried to show King the evidence, a glitch blasted the obscene audio instead. Disgusted, he shattered my tablet, branded me a cheap whore, and forced me to clean up broken glass on my hands and knees until I bled. I was entirely alone, stripped of my dignity, and framed as a manipulative gold-digger by the very people who sold me. The betrayal was a cold, hollowing void. I had no one left to lose, and no weaknesses left to exploit. But they made one fatal mistake. When I helped King back into his wheelchair, I felt a faint, involuntary twitch in his supposedly dead leg. The world's top doctors said he was paralyzed forever, but my medical training told me otherwise. I wiped the blood from my hands and smiled. I didn't need to escape anymore; I had just found the ultimate leverage to make them all pay.

My father' s life depended on a $50,000 payment my billionaire husband could easily afford. But every dollar I spent was controlled by his chief of staff, Keri-a woman who hated me and managed my life through a humiliating expense app. When my father was diagnosed with a rare leukemia, the doctors gave him one chance: an experimental treatment. The cost was exactly $50,000. Keri rejected the request, citing "non-essential family health." My husband, Axel, told me not to be "so dramatic." While I begged them to reconsider, my father died. Hours after the hospital called, Keri posted a photo of her and Axel at a gala, celebrating a business deal. Her caption read: "#PowerCouple." I left a comment. "Inspiring how you celebrate wins on the day my father died because you withheld the $50,000 he needed. Your efficiency is unparalleled. Perhaps you'll find it equally efficient to process these divorce papers."

I spent three years as the hidden mistress of Wall Street tyrant Damon Vaughn. Our no-strings arrangement meant I was his to command, a secret he kept locked away in the dark. Then I saw the Instagram post. It was Damon, raising a champagne glass with his perfect high-society fiancée, the caption hinting that wedding bells were just around the corner. I ended it that night, leaving his black card on his nightstand and blocking his number for good. But a man like Damon doesn't accept being told no. He retaliated by buying the entire building my tech startup was in. He cornered me on the street, slamming his fist into my car's hood, his face a mask of terrifying rage. He was a possessive monster, planning his perfect marriage while refusing to release me from my cage. The humiliation of being his disposable secret burned hotter than my anger. To finally break him, I lied about having a blind date. But the lie became a terrifying reality when my mother forced me into that exact date. Now, Damon has kidnapped me, and as he shoves me out of his car in front of the restaurant, his voice is a low, dangerous whisper meant only for me. "Remember who you belong to."