dulce report

The night before our wedding, my Alpha, Charlie, was attacked by a rogue wolf pack while on his way to pick up my wedding dress. When the Ironclaw Pack's patrol found him, his body was battered and covered in scars. He survived, but he lost all memory of me. Worse still, any mention of the word "wedding" was enough to make him faint on the spot. The wolf doctor called his survival a miracle but diagnosed him with severe post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Around the same time, I discovered I was pregnant. The doctor said, "Perhaps the child's arrival might awaken the part of him that deeply loves you." Clutching the ultrasound report with trembling hands, I went to find Charlie, hope blooming in my chest. When I approached him at the pack training ground, my heart stopped at the sound of his voice carrying over the chatter of his brothers. "Charlie, you're a genius!" one of them laughed. "Faking PTSD to dodge the wedding? Next, you should pretend to be in a coma for a few months." "Shut up!" Charlie snapped, but there was an edge of smugness in his tone. "I love Eve. I'm only lying to her this once. Let me have my fun at The Velvet Bite a little longer, and then I'll marry her." "The Velvet Bite? That brothel? Even ten of you wouldn't be enough to get through all the women there. Every single one with their own tricks—aren't you tempted to test your limits?" another jeered. "Why not stretch it out for a year or two? Eve isn't going to marry anyone else." "Enough of this nonsense," Charlie retorted coldly. "I can't bear to see her upset for too long. Now hurry up and get me more wild ones—three a day, no less than that. And don't let it interfere with the wedding." My hands trembled as I ripped the ultrasound report into pieces. Without a word, I turned and walked away. At the pack hospital, I made an appointment for an abortion.

When I was ten, I accidentally overheard my mother on the phone. It seemed like she was talking about me being a switched-at-birth rich girl, and that my real last name was Gardner. The coldness and cruelty my mother had shown me all these years suddenly made sense. When I turned 11, I paid an adult to get a maternity test done for both my mother and me. The results confirmed that I was indeed her biological daughter. I kept the report to myself and pretended I was still in the dark.

My fiancé’s pampered niece, Jenna Quinn, had just returned from abroad. The moment she got back, she caused a scene at our engagement party, throwing out so-called “evidence” of my alleged affair in front of the media. Zac Quinn had no choice but to leave me with the mess, clutching his hysterical niece as they left. His parting words? “This is just an engagement party. Jenna’s well-being is far more important.” After I painstakingly managed to control the public narrative and was waiting for Jenna to make a public clarification to settle the matter, she instead curled up in Zac’s arms, crying softly. Zac’s expression turned cold. “Jenna only has me, while you have so many people who love you. Why must you target her?” At first, I thought Zac was just being overly protective of his niece, who had lost her parents at a young age—until I saw the two of them kissing. “You’re the precious girl I’ve raised with my own hands. From now on, Nina will be your aunt, and she’ll shower you with love, too,” he said. I clenched the ultrasound report in my hand and, without hesitation, tossed it into the trash. Love that can’t be held onto isn’t worth keeping. I decided to return home, accept my family’s marriage alliance, and fully embrace my role as the heiress of the Walker Corporation.

After my husband's car accident, I did a checkup and found out he had a malignant brain tumor. Instead of telling him right away, I stuck the report in my bag, planning to wait for the right moment. Guess what? He found it first—and thought I was the one with the tumor. A few days later, I overheard him in his office, laughing with a buddy: "My wife? No looks, no figure, just money—and now she's got a brain tumor. Talk about a win for me. If Rainee hadn't gone abroad, I'd never have married her. Bad luck, huh? At least I dodged the kid bullet. Once she's gone, I get everything." Then he pulled the amnesia card, blamed it on the accident, and started treating Rainee like his wife. He even welcomed her into our house. I smiled and said, "Nathan, let's get a divorce."

In the eighth year of our secret office marriage, Marvin lit up every LED screen in Ocean City, just to make his little assistant smile. Amidst the well-wishes from everyone, the assistant cheerfully handed out gifts to the entire office. I casually tossed my gift into the trash. The assistant immediately ran to Marvin's office, tears streaming down her face, to report me. Moments later, Marvin, furious, suspended me from my position. As I walked out of the company building, Marvin's voice echoed from the loudspeakers on the top floor. "Celebrating Wendy's successful completion of her work, the gift is ready!" Wendy—was the assistant's name. As I watched the crowd rush past me, I calmly cut all ties with Marvin. This hidden marriage had come to an end.

I secured a big deal for the company and was promoted to manager. However, I overheard my boss' secretary gossiping in the pantry, saying that I was brainless and only got where I was by using my body. I was so angry that I wanted to report it to the police. Surprisingly, her husband stopped me and forced his wife to bow and apologize to me, begging for forgiveness. Things got worse on the next day. Someone shared my inappropriate photos in the company group chat along with records of me supposedly checking into a hotel with a man. My colleagues looked at me with contempt, as if they all knew what was happening but refused to speak up. Even my boss fired me, saying I had moral issues. My husband immediately divorced me when he found out, took our daughter away, and left me with nothing. Neighbors pointed fingers and whispered about me. I was so overwhelmed that I lost my senses and was killed by a car crash. When I opened my eyes, I returned to the day I was promoted.

Tres días después de dar a luz, mi esposo me dijo que tenía que ir de viaje por trabajo de emergencia y no podía quedarse conmigo. Me dejó sola cuidando al bebé. Tres días después, apenas llegué a casa del hospital, su "amiga de la infancia" publicó una descarada foto familiar en sus redes sociales con el siguiente texto: «De viaje, una familia unida y feliz.» Miré atónita la foto, él sonreía de oreja a oreja. Comenté con una simple interrogación Mi esposo me llamó de inmediato: —¡Qué exagerada eres! Es una madre soltera muy desafortunada sin un hombre que la cuide. Solo la acompañé a tomar una foto sencilla, ¿por qué tienes que ser tan celosa? Al atardecer, su querida "amiga" publicó otra imagen, mostrando unas joyas lujosas: —Después de la foto familiar, él me regaló este set de joyería que vale millones. Sabía perfectamente que mi esposo se las había comprado para que no se enojara por mi comentario. Pero esta vez, ya no pensaba perdonarlo. Decidí que me divorciaría con él.

A medical report shows me my husband's true colors. I've been diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer. Yet, my husband gives our life savings to someone else. I lunge at him to take my anger out on him, but he shoves me to the floor. "Lillian needs the money to open up a shop, you madwoman! So what if I've given her the money? "You have late-stage stomach cancer, so it's the end of the line for you! Why are you trying to compete with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave? You can't expect Mom and I to lose everything because of you, right?" I sit dazedly on the floor. I've never found him more unfamiliar. After that, I sneak all my wedding gifts out, wanting to sell them for money. However, I'm told they're all fakes. My husband sneers. "I'm glad I had the foresight to switch them out for the real deal. You would've taken all the money if not for that!" Later, the hospital called to say there was an issue with their system. The names on the medical reports were wrongly indicated. I ask my husband, "Why are you competing with someone who has a long life ahead when you already have one foot in the grave?"