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A Chance for More novel

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You Chose Her, so I Married Better
Urban RomanceHaving been married for one year, Genevieve Whitfield doesn't expect that she'll get divorced soon, even though the honeymoon phase isn't over yet. Back then, she chose to conceal her identity and marry Zachary Lambert in order to repay him for his benevolence. Little does she know that her repayment is met with cruelty instead. Zachary dotes on his pretentious childhood sweetheart, Regina Sloane, a lot. Genevieve's mother-in-law, Sylvia Jenkins, berates her for not being able to give birth. Even Zachary's younger sister, who's still a teenager, has the gall to push her around. Fine. Whoever wants Zachary can have him. Genevieve doesn't hesitate to hand over the divorce agreement right away. Wait, Zachary doesn't want a divorce? It's fine. Genevieve has an array of methods and brute strength on her side. She can't get a cent out of this divorce? Heck no! She will make sure to obtain every single cent that's rightfully hers! After dumping Zachary, Genevieve's alter egos are stripped one by one by the public. She's a medical genius, a genius artist, as well as a top-tier perfumer. Zachary clutches his chest, clearly regretting his decision. He's willing to present everything he has on a silver platter to her just to beg her to remarry him. But the bastard child, Tristan Hale, of the Lambert family has Genevieve all cornered. She tries to escape from him, only for him to kiss her. With a small smile on his face, he declares, "You're mine."
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Billionaire's Regret, Too Late!
By: Ela OsaretinUrban Romance"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage.We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment.For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage.Today, I finally received his message:"I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport."When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend.In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air.Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken—to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again.He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be."Aurora, come back. I regret everything!"Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!
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