Belly Button

When I went to the hospital for a checkup to see if my fourth IVF attempt had succeeded, I saw Daniel Cooper, who was supposed to be on a business trip. He was carefully supporting a young, beautiful woman as they walked out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. Her belly was unmistakably round, and she looked like she was ready to give birth at any moment. Daniel froze for just a second before stepping in front of her, shielding her from me. He explained, "Abby, the Cooper family needs an heir to carry on the lineage. Once the baby is born, everything will go back to the way it was." I heard the certainty in his words. So I smiled, nodded, and quietly tucked my test results away as he stared at me in surprise. On the day she gave birth, I left the divorce papers on the kitchen table and walked out of his life for good.

My husband’s the only son of the richest man in Ivoneu. As for me, I’m an orphan. His parents objected to us being together. When I got pregnant, they got on a plane and came to collect us in person. After that, I posted a picture I took with my husband, captioned, [I’m so thankful for you. Our life is going to be perfect from now on.] Little did I know that the rich girl my husband had been dating online would confront me.  She beat me until I had a miscarriage, then she stepped on my belly and declared viciously, “You are a nasty seductress! That makes the baby inside you a bad seed, too! Purging the baby is my contribution to society! “It’s just a fetus, anyway. I have more than enough money to get away with it!”

My best friend and I grow up together, and we each have our childhood friends. When we're old enough, we marry our childhood friends. One is a doctor, and one is a firefighter. We even fall pregnant one after the other. During our pregnancies, we go out for a stroll. Suddenly, I'm rammed over, and I fall into the river. My best friend miscarries after trying to save me, and my child dies in my belly, too. I call my husband. However, he roars, "Cass is in danger; I have to save her first! Stop bothering me!" My best friend is also reprimanded by her husband. After giving birth to the dead fetuses, we both decide to get divorced. However, the two men weep and beg us not to leave.

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

“Not so fast, Clarence,” Damon sneered. He yanked my wheelchair toward the balcony, pressing a button that lowered the guardrail into the floor. Now, I was teetering dangerously close to the edge. With one hand gripping the chair, keeping one wheel hanging over empty space, he shoved the divorce papers in my face. “You thought you could run to your mother’s lawyer?” he said, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Think again. You’re signing these papers, Clarence, and you’re leaving with nothing.” His smirk widened. “Or… you can join your parents on the other side.” --- Betrayed, crippled, and left penniless, Clarence is discarded for her sister by the man she sacrificed everything for—Damon Ferdinand. But when her ruthless ex-boyfriend, Dr. Julian Blackwood, reappears, he offers her a lifeline and a chance to reclaim what was stolen. With Julian’s power and influence, Clarence rises from the ashes, determined to exact revenge on her ex-husband and deceitful sister. But standing in her way is Kristina, Julian’s possessive fiancée. As old wounds resurface and lines blur between past regrets and new beginnings, Clarence is faced with the ultimate question: Can she truly find love in the arms of the man she once abandoned? Or is she merely playing with fire, risking the same heartbreak that once left her in ruins?

The day I got back from a trip, my housekeeper filed a lawsuit against my father and me. In court, she stood with her visibly pregnant belly, her voice shaking with anguish. "Jethro Roberts and his son are nothing but monsters. They tricked me into moving into their home under the excuse of offering me a job as a housekeeper. They tied me to a bed and abused me. "The baby I am carrying belongs to Jethro Roberts." Her mother wept hard, nearly collapsing from the strain. "These two monsters destroyed my daughter's life! They should pay with their lives." As soon as she spoke, the courtroom burst into an uproar. "Shameless criminals! The dad couldn't even be bothered to appear in court. They must be punished severely!" "That's right. Look at the son. He's actually smiling. He has no conscience! They both deserve to pay for what they did." Then, I calmly stepped forward and presented my evidence. A stunned silence swept through the courtroom.

After I fell while pregnant, my six-year-old son, Nico Bertelli, did not come to help me. When I woke up, the baby in my belly was gone. At my hospital bedside, Nico hid behind my husband, Roberto Bertelli, and mumbled, "Mommy, I thought you fainted on purpose to get my attention. You've pretended to pass out a few times before just to stop me from going out with Ms. Pelosi." Roberto chimed in coldly, "You're always pulling tricks to get attention. Nico doesn't even trust you anymore. You need to take a hard look at yourself and figure out why he prefers being around Martina Pelosi over you." I was completely heartbroken. The day after I was discharged, I went home, packed up everything that belonged to me, and left behind only two documents: a divorce agreement and a letter terminating my parental rights.

My brother's only child was diagnosed with acute leukemia, and the baby growing inside me became his only hope. The moment I got the news, I didn't hesitate, even though I was six months pregnant, ready for the transplant compatibility test. My brother drove me to the hospital to get the results, but things took an unexpected turn when my sister-in-law mistook me for a mistress. She waited until my brother stepped away, then locked me in the bathroom. Her face twisted with fury as she tore my clothes, stepped on my belly and insulted me. "You seduced my husband and even dared to carry his child! My son falls ill, and you rush back just to show off, is that it? No one steals my man! Today, I'll show you what happens to a mistress's baby!" It was only when my brother came with the compatibility report of successful matching that she collapsed…

Lesia has always been maltreated by her foster parents and as if that was not enough, she was sold to a dark Lord who happens to be her mate. Maddox was frustrated to find out that a mere omega was his mate and he proceeded to make a sex slave and kept using sex toys on her. Unable to deal with such disrespect, Amelia fled and collapsed while being chased by rogues. Before she blacked out, she muttered “Mate” ****** "W-what are they?" She eyed them yet again. "Why don't you find out? Pick one." I huskily whispered in her ear. She shot me a worried side glance and pulled her button lip in-between her teeth, reverting her eyes to carefully go through the seven pleasure bringing tools I had laid out. She shakily limped towards the bed, running her fingers over the array of objects. She paused in front of the vibrator and picked it up, looking it over. She turned to me, "t-this one?" "Excellent choice Princess, my personal favorite." I grinned at her. I collected it from her, running my eyes over it, "get on the bed and spread your legs for me. I promise you'll enjoy this as much as I will."

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.