Alexa
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Alexa's Books and Stories
Betrayed By My Ruthless Billionaire Husband
Romance Amelie Beaumont was in the agonizing throes of labor, desperately calling out for her husband.
But Jonas didn't come to hold her hand. He kicked the delivery room door open, enraged by forged photos of her "infidelity" provided by her cousin Corie.
"Whose bastard is it?"
Before the stunned medical staff, he divorced her on the spot and froze her family's assets.
When Amelie woke up, her stomach was flat and her baby was gone. Corie smiled and told her Jonas had the "unclean" newborn thrown to the wild dogs.
Because of Jonas's ruthless retaliation, Amelie's family was bankrupted and her mother died of a massive heart attack.
When Amelie later caught Corie trying to assassinate Jonas's comatose mother, Corie stabbed her own shoulder and framed Amelie for the crime.
Jonas didn't hesitate to believe the lies, slapping Amelie to the floor before sending her to a hellish maximum-security prison.
Tortured and starved by inmates, Amelie slit her wrist in her dark cell, completely shattered by the injustice.
She couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so blind, trusting a venomous snake over the wife who bled for him.
But Jonas dragged her back from death via a video call, threatening to cripple her surviving father and brother if she dared to escape his punishment through death.
Staring at her stitched wrist in the prison infirmary, the dead emptiness in Amelie's eyes ignited into a cold, black flame.
She would survive this hell, and she would make them pay in blood. When His Love Died, Her Life Bloomed
Modern The photograph curled in the fireplace.
I watched my own face turn black, blister, and dissolve into ash. My wedding photo. The one where I was smiling and he was almost smiling.
I placed the engagement ring and the wedding band side by side on his desk. Next to them, the keys. On top, the letter for Mrs. Tucker.
In the elevator, I took out my SIM card and snapped it in half. The sound was small. Final.
I dropped the broken pieces and the phone into a public trash can on the corner. A yellow cab pulled up.
"Where to?"
Anywhere. As long as it wasn't here.
I got in and looked ahead, through the windshield, at the gray, uncertain road. This time, I did not look back.
Three months later.
I sat on the porch of a small cottage, a mug of coffee warming my hands. The morning fog rolled in off the Pacific, smelling of salt and pine.
No one knew I was here. No one in this town had ever heard the name Harlow Thornton.
I was Harlow Graham.
And I was alive again.
But I should have known that a man like Axel Thornton would never let go.
I just didn't know how far he would go to find me. One Dollar For Pity: The Surgeon Returns
Billionaires For three years, I played the role of a devoted, naive wife to billionaire Conrad Whitney. I hid my true identity and foolishly believed in our fairy tale.
Then he handed me a harsh divorce agreement, ordering me to sign and walk away with absolutely nothing. He was leaving me to marry Cindy, the fragile woman he claimed had saved him from a fire.
He expected me to cry and beg. Instead, he watched coldly as Cindy and her family illegally transferred my father's trust fund. When I confronted them at the hospital, Conrad shielded her, calling me a greedy, toxic viper. He mocked me, completely blind to the fact that Cindy was a fraud. He truly believed I was just a pathetic, useless housewife who would be utterly destroyed without his money and status.
I looked at the man I had actually dragged out of that burning debris with my own soot-covered hands. My trauma, my sacrifices, and my love had all been reduced to a joke by his sheer arrogance and a few fake tears from a manipulative liar.
I didn't shed a single tear. I calmly signed the papers, drugged his wine, and left a crumpled one-dollar bill on his unconscious chest with a sticky note mocking his terrible service.
Then, I picked up my encrypted phone. It was time for the world's top surgeon, Dr. Hades, to return, and for Conrad to finally see the god he had just thrown away. My Empire, My Love, And No Regrets
Modern My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach." He Chose Her, I Chose Us
Modern On our tenth anniversary, I found the divorce papers my husband, Drake, had secretly filed a year ago.
That same night, I watched him walk into our favorite restaurant, his arm wrapped around his pregnant campaign manager, Chelsea.
I soon learned his plan was more monstrous than a simple affair. He had tricked me into signing the papers, intending for me to raise his mistress's child as my own-a perfect political cover for the wife who couldn't conceive.
When Chelsea later faked a fall and blamed me, the hatred in Drake's eyes confirmed everything.
"If anything happens to her or my child," he snarled, shoving me aside, "I will never forgive you."
He didn't know my secret.
After twelve agonizing rounds of IVF, I was finally pregnant-with twins. He had made his choice, and now I was making mine. I would disappear with my children, and he would never see us again. The Ex-Wife's Unforgiving Revenge
Modern My fiancé, Grayson Malone, had me locked in a mental institution while I was pregnant. He stole our son, Adam, and let his mistress raise him as her own.
For six years, I survived in poverty, secretly raising our daughter, Ida-the one he never knew existed.
Our worlds finally collided at a school event. His mistress, Kiera, shoved Ida, whose head cracked against a metal chair. Her heart stopped.
In the ensuing panic, Grayson found a journal I "accidentally" dropped. It was his dead sister's diary, holding the truth that proved Kiera's lies had destroyed my entire family.
Now, consumed by guilt, he's begging for a second chance. He thinks he can buy my forgiveness. He has no idea I'm about to take everything from him, just like he did to me. His Secret Family, My Public Shame
Romance For five years, my adoptive family told me my sister, Seraphina, was being punished at a strict boarding school for framing me for a political crime. I played the part of the perfect daughter, happily engaged to a brilliant congressman, my life a picture of success and privilege.
Then, on the night of my fifth engagement anniversary, I saw her laughing in a park with my fiancé, Liam, and their four-year-old son.
My entire world was a lie. I wasn't his beloved fiancée; I was a placeholder, a political shield to protect their secret family. Every family dinner, every whispered "I love you," was a performance for an audience of one: me.
My own mother, who preached about my sister’s need for "reflection," was secretly using family money to fund the comfortable life of the woman who tried to destroy me.
But it was worse than an affair. I discovered Seraphina was blackmailing them. The scandal she framed me for was real, and my own father was involved. They had sacrificed me to protect their legacy from the criminal they raised.
In a hidden email, she called me a "plain social worker," a fool they had to pretend to love.
They were wrong. At my mother’s annual charity gala, I made a small change to the evening’s presentation. As the lights dimmed, a photo of my fiancé’s real family flashed onto the screens for all of Washington's elite to see. The Regent's Secret
Romance The world was a blur of pain, and Kael, my fierce protector, was there to sweep me into his arms, just like always.
He was my anchor, the man whose life was bound to mine by a rare, ancient Soul-Link—a sacrifice I'd made without a second thought to save him from poison years ago.
I trusted him with my life, literally.
Then I saw her.
First in a terrifying nightmare, then in Kael's study, a cloaked figure handing him a mysterious ornate box.
Her cold, regal eyes haunted my waking thoughts, but Kael swore I was dreaming, soothing my fears with familiar warmth and a tangible clue about my missing sister, Seraphina.
He couldn't be lying, not when our very souls were linked.
My trust shattered when I saw Lyra again, stepping out of a gilded carriage, announcing her engagement to Kael.
They'd been engaged for years, uniting two powerful families.
I was nothing but a temporary amusement, a pet he'd picked up.
His betrayal sent a searing pain through my chest, amplified by the Soul-Link—a physical manifestation of my broken heart.
How could he cause me such profound emotional agony, yet share my physical pain so deeply?
The contradiction tore me apart.
He looked at me with genuine worry, yet continued to lie, continuing this elaborate deception.
Why?
What was this bond to him?
Just a burden?
I found my answer, not in his words, but in the truth.
The man with Lyra was his twin brother, a calculated deception to manage his political life.
I wasn't just a secret; I was a fully separate life he was living.
My heart shattered.
I learned then that the "medicine" he gave me daily wasn't a cure for the Soul-Link's pain, but a slow poison, ensuring my dependence, my control.
He blamed me for the link, twisting my sacrifice into a curse.
So I ended it, plunging a letter opener into my own heart, severing the Soul-Link, and sending him an agonizing final message of shared oblivion. The Perfect Husband's Lie
Modern They called Andrew Scott my perfect husband. In the glittering New York art scene, he was the doting cellist, supporting my successful career, even through our painful infertility struggles.
Then he brought Molly home – a fragile young woman who soon became pregnant with his child, shattering our perfect facade.
What followed was a horrific descent: Andrew, once my steadfast partner, stood by as Molly poisoned my daily smoothie and let her relatives desecrate my priceless family sculpture.
The final straw came when, after Molly "accidentally" burned their baby, Andrew shoved my hand into scalding hot soup, then abandoned me to comfort his mistress.
But I refused to be a victim.
Instead, I orchestrated my own demise, forcing Andrew to uncover Molly's every monstrous lie, including her deliberate harm to their own child, leading to a shocking end that freed me to reclaim my life. A Taste of Betrayal: The Chef's Sweet Revenge
Romance It was our fifth wedding anniversary, and I, a once Michelin-starred chef, had prepared a special dinner, ready to celebrate the life I'd built supporting my ambitious politician wife, Jessica.
But then came her call, a clipped, professional voice explaining an "urgent campaign retreat," followed by the devastating discovery of an abortion receipt dated two weeks prior, a decision she made without me.
The next day, her Chief of Staff, David, chillingly answered her phone, confirming my worst fears: she wasn't at a retreat; she was with him, comfortably in his hotel room.
My heart pounded with a mix of betrayal and raw disbelief – how could she discard our shared future, our dream of a family, and betray our vows so utterly, all while I sacrificed everything for her career?
When she finally returned, furious and drenched, she kicked the custom smoker I used for my small catering gigs, sneering at my "hobby" and screaming that I was lazy, ambitionless, and holding her back, pushing me to the brink of a life-changing decision.
Her contempt solidified my resolve: she had no idea the "freeloader" she was disdaining was the silent architect of her entire world, and her next move would shatter the illusion she had so carefully constructed. Saving The Victim Of Plastic Surgery
Modern Here's the translation:
My best friend is flat-chested and became obsessed with breast augmentation, after which a salesperson recommended her to get liposuction. I advised her against it, suggesting she should exercise more to lose weight instead. However, she not only ignored my advice but also told annoying people that I was jealous of her becoming more attractive. Later, she had a failed liposuction, her face became disfigured, and she developed infections all over her body, looking unrecognizable.
When I went to visit her, she yelled at me, accusing me of coming to mock her and claiming that I was the one who caused her problems. Although I felt sad, I didn’t blame her and continued to take care of her. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, I went to pick her up, but she pushed me into the street, where I was repeatedly run over by vehicles!
After being reborn, my best friend once again asked me if I wanted to get plastic surgery. "No, you'll die." I decided to keep trying to save her. You might like
Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." His Tamed Wife, The Wild Heiress
Whisper 119 She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him.
It was all a lie.
No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way.
But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret.
Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again. The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit
Maui My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land.
I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust.
When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor.
"Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier."
My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory.
They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back.
How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers?
I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit.
"MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION." While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Returning To Ruin My Cheating NHL Husband
Xiao Ye On our third anniversary, I stood outside a luxury restaurant, holding a limited-edition watch for my husband, Liam.
Through the window, I saw him intimately wiping cream from the lips of his first love, Clara. Just as I realized the diamond bracelet on her wrist was the one he lied about, a violent cramp ripped through my eight-month pregnant belly, and blood soaked my dress.
"Liam... I'm bleeding," I gasped into the phone in agony.
"I'm not falling for these games," he coldly replied, hanging up as Clara laughed in the background.
I almost died on the operating table during an emergency C-section, spending my first night as a mother completely alone. While my premature daughter fought for her life in the NICU, Liam was busy sleeping with Clara, eventually bringing her to my home to wear my bathrobe and drink from my glass.
When my best friend confronted him, he confidently claimed I was just throwing a tantrum on a Caribbean vacation. He couldn't even recognize me when we crossed paths right in the hospital hallway. The man I loved was dead to me.
He later called, demanding I come home to play the perfect pregnant wife for an important family dinner. I didn't cry, and I didn't ask for a simple divorce.
Instead, I strapped on a hyper-realistic silicone pregnant belly and smiled.
If they wanted the devoted, pregnant Sterling wife, I would give them the performance of a lifetime before burning their world to the ground. Sold To The Ex's Billionaire Uncle
Su Banqing Seraphina Hayes went from a billionaire heiress to a desperate daughter overnight. To pay for her dying father's surgery, she stood in the freezing rain to beg her ex-boyfriend, Liam, for help.
Instead of helping, Liam threw a check into a muddy puddle to humiliate her. Left with no way out, Seraphina was forced to sign a brutal marriage contract with Julian Sterling—a ruthless billionaire who also happened to be Liam's uncle.
But her new husband treated her like a bought possession. At Liam's grand engagement party, Julian forced Seraphina to wear a scandalous diamond necklace and enter alone. Then, he walked in with his famous ex-girlfriend on his arm. The entire ballroom mocked Seraphina as a discarded clown. Liam pulled her onto the dance floor, grinning as he whispered in her ear.
"When he's done with you, you can always come crawling back to me to be my mistress."
She stood surrounded by cruel laughter, her pride shattered. Why did Julian spend hundreds of millions to save her family, only to publicly execute her dignity? Was she just a cheap prop for his twisted games?
But they underestimated her. Seraphina didn't break down. She leaned in, her voice like ice.
"You're just the piece of gum I scraped off my shoe this morning. Disgusting, and easily forgotten."
Leaving Liam pale and stumbling, she walked out of the ballroom like an untouchable queen, unaware that her ruthless husband was watching from the balcony, a dangerous spark of genuine interest finally lighting up his eyes. 
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