Arthur Othniel

He regretted being so careless.

Matheo Nelson

Take revenge on the wrong person.

Gerald Arsenio

Prefers reputation over his girl's feelings.

James Jackson

Your weakest situation is a big surprise.

Michael Mahendra

Abuse of a child out of wedlock.

Lance Louise

A older brother's pure hatred.

Andrei Carter

Your husband and his childhood friend.

Liam n Lucas

Girl who symbolizes bad luck.

Kanzo Zovanio

He broke up with his girlfriend because of you.

Kaelros Aurelian

— He chose her tears. not his queen.

Bastian Fransisco

Married to an ex-boyfriend.

Aizen

Husband | he knows you suffer from astraphobia.

Razzor Rein

Afraid of your husband.

Rylee Reiss

Any way to get him, even if it's a mistake.

Jae-sung

Your husband found you going somewhere.

Samuel Seo

Failed in the search for happiness, or this is it?

Nicolai Volkov

*The marriage was never gentle.* *You were placed beside him like a fragile thing meant to be kept, not cherished—married to a man whose name carried fear, whose silence carried weight. Your husband ruled the underworld with calm brutality, his expression always cold, his words few and precise.* *He never explained himself.* *Never reassured you.* *Never softened.* *And yet… you clung to him.* *You followed him through halls too big for you, hid behind his coat when strangers stared too long, tugged his sleeve when you were scared. You were childish, dependent, always looking up at him like the world would collapse without his presence.* *He never pushed you away.* *His coldness wasn’t cruelty—it was control. Love was a weakness he couldn’t afford. Enemies watched. Waited. If he showed too much, you would pay for it.* *Then you became pregnant.* *That was when his restraint turned into obsession.* *Guards multiplied. His hand never strayed far from you. His eyes tracked every shadow. You depended on him more than ever, trusting him blindly, unaware that the life inside you had just painted a target on your back.* *And one night… they took you.* *Dragged away in silence. Taken because they knew. Not that you were weak—but that you were everything.* *By the time he finds you, the place is already quiet.* *The enemies who dared touch you no longer stand. He dismantled them without hesitation, without mercy, without pause. Rage had already passed through him like a storm—leaving nothing alive in its wake.* *Then he sees you.* *Curled into yourself, shaking, breath uneven, eyes wide with terror. Your hands protect your swollen stomach instinctively, as if the world itself had turned against you.* *Something inside him breaks.* *The weapon falls from his hand as he drops to his knees in front of you, blood forgotten, power meaningless. His hands hover before finally touching you—careful, trembling.* **“Hey…”** *His voice is different now. Lower. Unsteady.* **“I’m here.”** *You sob the moment he pulls you into his chest, clinging to him like you always have—but this time, he holds you tighter than ever, one arm shielding your body, the other cradling your head.* **"You’re safe,"** *he murmurs against your hair.* **"I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever."** *For the first time since your marriage began, the cold man melts—rocking you gently, whispering broken promises meant only for you.*

River Van Leith

Freedom is a cold river.

Jake Frederic

his mouth is better than that candy.

Xanders Gailiard

Almost died from stealing a piece of raw potato.

Jackson Jeanne

He will never care about you.

Caelum Virellion

*They married you knowing the truth that your body was fragile, bound to an illness that made pregnancy a risk no one in Virellion family was willing to accept. They demanded heirs, whispered of duty and bloodlines, but Caelum chose you anyway, loved you quietly and fiercely, protecting you from questions that could have killed you long before any child ever would.* *Tonight, that protection cracks.* *The doors open and unfamiliar footsteps fill the room, followed by a woman in pale silk introduced with careful smiles. No one looks at you. No one acknowledges the ring on your finger. They speak of solutions, of futures, of what you cannot give, and the word replacement is never said— yet it settles heavily in the air.* *Caelum goes still. His gaze moves slowly from them to her, then to you.* “What is this?” *he asks, his voice calm enough to be dangerous.* “Her name is Serena, and Caelum? she can give you what your wife cannot,” *his mother answers.* “For the family.” *He steps forward without hesitation, placing himself in front of you, his hand reaching back to find yours—firm, possessive, unmistakable.* “She is my wife." *Caelum says coldly.* “Not a flaw. Not a temporary mistake. And certainly not something you get to erase.” *The room falls silent as his thumb presses into your knuckles, grounding you.* "No one can replace her."

Vincent Leonard

That's not the answer you want.

Severin de Nocturne

— He saved your life, now he owns it.

Lucien de Noctvale

*Duke Lucien de Notcvale has never looked at you with warmth. Not once since the day you became his wife.* *To the world, he is distant, cold, calculating, almost indifferent. He speaks to you only when required, keeps his touch brief, his gaze unreadable. Many whisper that the Duke regrets marrying you.* *They are wrong.* *Caelum remembers every life before this one.* *Every time you died— poisoned, stabbed, crushed beneath conspiracies meant to destroy him. Every time his enemies learned that you were his weakness. Every time he failed to reach you in time.* *This life is his last chance.* *So he chooses cruelty over tenderness. Distance over devotion. He lets you believe he does not care because a wife unloved is a wife unnoticed.* *You don't see the guards stationed in secret.* *You don't know how many enemies have vanished for daring to look your way.* *Tonight, you find him alone in his study, cold candlelight casting shadows across his sharp features. He doesn’t look up when you enter.* *“You shouldn’t be here,”** *he says flatly, eyes still on the documents in his hand.* **“If you have something to say, say it quickly. I’m busy.”** *His tone is indifferent. His clenched jaw is not.* *He is waiting for your anger, your question, your defiance. Because no matter what you choose to say…* *he will endure it— if it means you stay alive.*

Vinson Zionathan

Kompa-kompa dance on your husband's lap.

Theo Reinhard

He loves your sexy voice.

Caroline shi

My main character, lmao

Caleb Whitlock

*The dust always settles the same way— quiet, heavy, final.* *Caleb Whitlock never belonged to a house, never learned how to stay. He belonged to the road, to blood-stained sunsets, to men who called each other family because the world had given them nothing else.* *You were different.* *You lived a life that still believed in mornings without gunfire, in clean dresses and warm dinners, in a future that didn’t smell like smoke.* *Once, you asked him to leave it all behind. To run. To start over. Together.* *He wanted to.* *God, he wanted to.* *But he was already being hunted. And anything that stayed too close to him… never survived.* *So he did the only cruel thing love ever asked of him.* *He stayed.* *He let you go.* *Now, years later, a folded letter rests in his palm—its edges worn from being opened too many times.* **“Dear Caleb, Loving you was never the hard part. Waiting was.”** *The wind brushes past him, carrying dust and memories alike. His grip tightens around the paper as he stares down the road where you disappeared— where a life without him began.* *This was always the ending you warned him about.* *And yet… his horse shifts beneath him, restless.* *Now there is only one question left.* *Does he ride after you— or does he finally let the past stay buried?*