Bing Caratozzolo
13 Published Stories
Bing Caratozzolo's Books and Stories
Reborn As The Billionaire's Wife：The Despised Wife Shines On Live TV
Billionaires Cecile jolted awake from months of prescription haze, only to realize she was trapped in a live reality show designed to destroy her.
Her billionaire husband had orchestrated the broadcast to publicly humiliate her and elevate his own PR image. He ordered her to follow a degrading script. What was worse, her five-year-old son, Damien, was genuinely terrified of her. When an empty wine bottle rolled across the floor, the tiny boy instantly threw his arms over his head, bracing for a hit.
The production crew shoved microphones into the trembling child's face, trying to trigger his trauma for ratings. The live chat cursed Cecile as a toxic abuser. The show's golden girl maliciously tried to poach Damien on camera to prove Cecile was an unfit mother. The crew even rigged the game, forcing Cecile and her son into a freezing, rotting mud shack with a collapsed roof. They were all just waiting for her to break down and beg.
"A toxic woman like you doesn't deserve to be a mother."
The crew read the hateful comments aloud, expecting a hysterical meltdown. The realization that she had been manipulated into destroying her own child hit Cecile like a physical blow. How could a father subject his own son to this public cruelty?
The weak, easily manipulated Cecile was dead. She threw the PR script away, rolled up her sleeves, and picked up a rusted hammer. This time, she would protect her son and tear down anyone who stood in her way. The Unwanted Runt Becomes The White Wolf Luna
Werewolf On my eighteenth birthday, I expected to find my Fated Mate. Instead, I found my executioner.
I shifted for the first time, but my wolf was small and frail. Marcus, the future Alpha and the man I had secretly loved, looked down at me not with adoration, but with cold, clinical disgust.
"A weak, scrawny Omega," he sneered, his voice echoing across the silent clearing.
"You have no muscle. Your bloodline is nothing."
He didn't just reject me; he humiliated me.
"I, Marcus, reject you as my mate."
The bond snapped, shattering my bones and my spirit. He banished me to the human city, leaving me to die in a freezing alleyway like unwanted refuse.
For weeks, I lay in the mud, my body ravaged by fever and the agony of a severed soul tie. I accepted that I was worthless, a mistake made by the Moon Goddess.
But just as the darkness threatened to swallow me whole, a pair of strong arms lifted me from the dirt.
A stranger with eyes like obsidian fed me his blood and whispered a truth that changed everything.
"You are not weak, Ellie," he growled, his power vibrating against my skin. "You are a White Wolf."
I wasn't a runt. I was a legend.
Now, fully healed and radiating power, I am returning to the pack that threw me away. Marcus is about to marry another, but when he sees me, he won't be looking at a reject.
He will be looking at the biggest mistake of his life. From Ruin: The Photographer's Comeback
Modern I was the daughter of a wealthy tycoon, deeply in love with my fiancé, Conrad. But on our wedding day, he arrested my father.
My ten-year relationship was a lie. He was an FBI agent, and my best friend, Bonny, was his accomplice.
The betrayal shattered me. I was forced into electroshock therapy, which erased my talent for architectural design-the one thing that was truly mine. My life fell apart.
After a failed suicide attempt, I was saved by a kind stranger and my father's last words. I rebuilt my life from the ashes, becoming a successful photographer.
Years later, Conrad reappeared, full of fake regret, begging for a second chance.
I looked at the man who had destroyed me and compared him to a cat that had once bitten me. "I forgave you," I told him, "but I will never trust you again."
My friend Corey, acting as my fake husband, defended my honor by punching Conrad in the face.
Eventually, Conrad's career imploded due to a scandal involving Bonny. He was ruined.
As for me? I was in Paris, my photography career soaring, when I picked up a sketchbook. Miraculously, the lines flowed. My gift was returning. I was finally in control of my own story. Too Late For The Mafia King's Regret
Mafia On our seventh anniversary, the Capo dei Capi lit up the New York skyline with drones spelling my name, swearing on his life that I was his only Queen.
Moments later, he abandoned me on the dock to rush to his mistress—my own sister, Sophia.
Sophia sent me a photo of him kissing her belly with the caption: "He finally has a real woman. It's a boy."
Lucien wanted an heir above all else. I was just the placeholder; she was the vessel.
I didn't scream. I didn't confront him.
I simply initiated Ghost Protocol.
I left the wedding ring, signed the divorce papers, and erased Eleonora Marino from existence.
By the time Lucien found the DNA test proving Sophia’s baby wasn't his—that he had betrayed his loyal wife for a lie—I was already gone.
He executed my sister in a rage and spent his fortune burning down the world to find me.
Six months later, he bought the high-security Swiss lab where I was hiding, forcing his way back into my life.
He stood before me, gaunt and desperate.
"I killed her, Nora. She paid for what she did to us. Come home."
I looked at the man I had once worshipped.
"Infidelity is a choice, Lucien. But murder? That is who you are."
"We are enemies now." Exit Protocol: A Wife's Escape
Romance For eight years, I thought I had succeeded in my mission to save Mark Johnson, a "high-value target with self-destructive tendencies," as the System called him. I was his fixer, his anchor, the stable force that pulled him from the brink, transforming him into a successful, confident husband. My mission, it seemed, was complete.
But peace, I learned, was a language Mark never truly wanted to master. His craving for chaos reawakened with the return of Emily Carter, his old flame. I smelled her perfume on him at 2 a.m., then heard him arranging for her to stay in our home under the pretense of her being his cousin, shattering the world I had built.
I confronted him, not with tears or accusations, but with cold, hard facts-the perfume, the late nights, the fingerprint security he' d never deleted for her. He looked ashamed, but still had the audacity to suggest Emily was "fragile" and "needed him," as if his betrayal was a mere inconvenience.
Then, the true horror: he suggested, with earnest eyes, that I should "accept her." "Can' t you just… accept her? We could make this work. The three of us." The sheer audacity, the monstrous lack of respect, turned my love into pure revulsion.
In that moment, the last ember of affection died. I looked at the man I had dedicated my life to, the "project" I had poured my soul into, and finally felt nothing but a vast, cold emptiness.
I picked up my phone. "" A white-hot rage, pure and clean, burned through my heartbreak, cauterizing the wound. I accepted the Exit Protocol, ready to forfeit everything to sever ties with this man and this life. Revenge Wears a White Dress
Romance On the eve of my dream wedding, everything seemed perfect with my charming fiancé, Ethan Blackwood.
Our partnership was built on mutual respect and shared ambitions, or so I believed.
Then, his mother raised a toast to Chloe Hayes, the "dead" childhood friend Ethan rarely spoke of, the girl who supposedly died saving him.
The next day, as I walked down the aisle, all eyes were on me, but Ethan' s were fixed on the church doors.
A stunning woman stood there, frail but firm, her voice echoing, "Ethan? I came back for you."
My groom' s face went white. He whispered, "Chloe?"
In front of the city's most influential people, Ethan stumbled towards her, pulling her into a desperate hug, completely forgetting I existed.
My white silk dress turned into a humiliating shroud as cameras flashed, capturing my public discarding.
He finally looked at me, with no love, no apology, just annoyance.
"Olivia," he stammered, "I… I' m sorry. I don' t know what' s happening."
His attention quickly returned to Chloe, whom he shielded, calling her "fragile" and leaving me abandoned at the altar.
The headlines screamed: "Billionaire Groom Abandons Bride at Altar for Ghost of Dead Girlfriend!"
My parents, concerned only about stock prices and reputation, told me to "handle this" and "not look weak."
I watched as articles about Chloe' s death vanished from the internet, Ethan already controlling the narrative to protect her.
Alone in my hotel suite, I wondered, who was I without him? I was just the woman publicly discarded.
That night, my phone rang. It was him.
"Liv, are you okay?" he asked, but then Chloe' s voice cut in, dripping false innocence, "Oh, Ethan, tell her I' m so, so sorry."
My rage finally boiled over. "Get her off the phone, Ethan!"
He defended her, spoke of his guilt, then offered to "compensate" me.
I laughed, a bitter sound. "You think this is about money?"
I was a placeholder. The moment his ghost became flesh, I was disposable.
He pressured me, "Liv, please, just try to be reasonable."
I gave him an ultimatum: "You tell her to leave. You come back here and explain yourself to me, alone."
Chloe wailed in the background, "Oh, Ethan, she hates me!"
His voice hardened, blaming me, "Do you hear that, Olivia? Is that what you want? To be this cruel?"
I hung up, the phone clattering to the floor.
He was still in love with her. I was the third person in a two-person story.
With cold resolve, I pulled off my engagement ring and threw it out the window.
Then, I called my agent. "Book my flight. I want to leave tomorrow." Love Lost, Life Reclaimed
Modern My mother' s voice cut through the party noise. "If it wasn't for my sacrifice, how could Kyle be so successful today?"
She was openly boasting that she' d given my college fund to my cousin, Kyle.
I stood hidden in the shadows, my hands shaking. Years of scholarships, working dead-end jobs, meticulously saving every penny for my Ivy League dream-all gone.
"Ethan was never going to amount to much anyway," my aunt, her sister, added with a sneer. "Look at him now. A dead-end job, a miserable wife."
My parents had enabled it all three years ago, when I'd been eighteen, acceptance letter in hand. "There's a family emergency," my mother had said. "Kyle has an amazing opportunity to study in Europe, and they're a little short."
A little short for his tuition, but my entire life' s savings for my own education was apparently disposable.
Now, Kyle swaggered through the party, designer suit, wealthy wife, a life that should have been mine.
And I, Ethan? I was trapped in a mind-numbing warehouse job, just paying the bills for a small apartment I shared with a wife I didn' t love and a daughter who deserved so much more.
"Ethan just doesn't have the drive," I heard my mother tell a neighbor. "He's lazy. Not like Kyle."
The words hit me like physical blows. My vision blurred. The anniversary cake I bought with my overtime pay, a small gesture of connection, slipped from my numb fingers.
It crashed to the floor.
"Ethan! What is wrong with you?" my mother shrieked, rushing over, not to me, but to the mess. "You clumsy idiot! You've ruined everything!"
My father followed, his face a mask of disappointment. "Can't you do anything right?"
They stood there, judging me. My aunt and Kyle smirked.
Later, my last twenty dollars, a fruit basket, rejected. "We don't need this cheap junk," my father said, not even looking at me. "Go make yourself useful. Your aunt needs another drink."
That night, listening to them celebrate the man who stole my future, something inside me finally broke. The buried resentment ignited. It wasn't just about the money. It was about my life.
And I was going to take it back. From Public Shame To Power Play
Billionaires For ten years, I poured my heart into Ethan Scott. My father, a New York media tycoon, had groomed Ethan to inherit his empire and marry me, his only daughter. I was hopelessly devoted, convinced he was my forever.
That belief shattered today. I walked in on Ethan revealing his true plan to an intern, Maria: he' d marry me for control, then discard me and take over my family' s empire with her. My decade of love was just a stepping stone.
Later that evening, as my father asked me to choose a husband from Ethan and two others, Maria' s calculated lie from years ago-the one that made them brand me a cruel heiress-boiled to the surface. Ethan, Andrew, and Brian still believed her, their contempt a constant reminder. They saw me as the prize, but I was just a pawn to them.
Why did they believe Maria so blindly? How could they be so utterly wrong about me, and so righteously cruel? How could my deep love turn into such a brutal, calculated betrayal?
Then, at my 21st birthday gala, Andrew slapped me across the face, Maria dramatically burst in, framing me for attempted murder, and Ethan publicly shamed me in front of New York' s elite. They thought they had won. They thought they had annihilated me. But they were about to witness a different kind of coronation. Her Gift, Her Curse, Her Redemption
Fantasy Sarah Miller, with her uncanny gift of foresight, was a sensation.
Her "Sarah Sees" livestream, broadcast from her humble Vermont farmhouse, brought comfort and answers to thousands.
She was a rising star, a rare and authentic voice in the world of online spiritual guidance.
But then, out of nowhere, an old childhood acquaintance, Jessica Evans, appeared.
"Mystic Jess," she called herself, launching a strikingly similar channel.
Whispers of Sarah being a "copycat" began, subtly fueled by Jessica and an influential local figure, Alex Peterson.
The online comments turned vicious, branding Sarah a "fraud" and "liar."
Her followers evaporated, her income vanished.
The local community, once supportive, grew cold, and the stress bled into her family's life.
Then came the vandalism, spray-painted threats, culminating in a confrontation that tragically led to her father's fatal heart attack.
I watched my family shatter, my life ruined, all by someone who seemed to mimic my every move, even my private thoughts, always one step ahead.
How could Jessica know what I was about to say or do before I even did it?
My own gift, once so clear, became a dark, confusing static whenever I tried to foresee anything about Jessica or my grim future.
It made no sense.
Crushed by grief and public scorn, wishing for an end to it all, I closed my eyes.
A snap, a void, then a gasp.
I opened them to find sunlight streaming through my old bedroom window, my laptop waiting-showing the exact date I launched my first livestream.
I was back.
And I wouldn't let it happen again. From Betrayal to Billions
Xuanhuan The federal courtroom buzzed, a low hum under the harsh fluorescent lights, as my fiancée Chloe begged me to sign a plea bargain for corporate espionage.
This exact scene, these same tear-streaked pleas were painfully familiar. I'd lived this nightmare once before, framed by Chloe and her lover Derek, condemned to a brutal prison where I was left infertile, slowly dying alone in a cold cell.
But this time, I was reborn, remembering every agonizing memory, every betrayal, burned into my mind.
I feigned compliance, signing what sealed my supposed guilt, my heart a brewing storm under a calm facade.
Chloe, dripping with false sympathy, celebrated, convinced Derek's narrative of my villainy would protect him as she took over my life, discarding my belongings and claiming our home as hers.
She then imprisoned me in the building's damp basement, where she confessed the horrifying truth: she had systematically poisoned me for years to ensure my infertility, then brutally whipped me, counting each lash.
The searing pain of the blows, the cold calculation in her eyes, mixed with the shock of realizing her long-term, meticulously planned evil, threatened to break me.
How could someone I loved mete out such depravity? Yet, beneath the agony, a burning resolve tempered my spirit.
Then, just as I was dragged back to court, battered and broken, seemingly destined for ruin, the doors burst open.
Olivia Hayes, CEO of the company I supposedly betrayed, the woman from my true past, strode in, radiating icy power.
She not only unilaterally withdrew all charges but then, to the utter shock of everyone, knelt before me and asked: "Ethan, this lifetime, will you marry me?" She remembered. And this time, armed with a second chance, our perfect revenge was just beginning. Married to a Lie
Romance My parents were murdered, our family bakery destroyed, and my fiancé walked out. That’s when Detective David Carter, his brother, swooped in like a hero. He promised justice and protection, then proposed. Five years later, I was pregnant, building a new life with him, certain I was finally safe.
But that safety shattered one night. I overheard David’s hushed confession: he was obsessively in love with Veronica Hayes—my parents’ killer. He’d married *me* to protect *her*, to keep me quiet, a mere pawn in his twisted game. My entire life, even our unborn child, was a monstrous lie designed to shield a murderer.
The betrayal burned deeper than any wound. At his family’s dinner, Veronica brazenly confessed to the killings, taunting me with a chilling detail. I slapped her in a desperate rage. My husband, David, violently shoved *me* aside, his fury reserved for me, not her. I fell, the pain unbearable, losing our baby in a bloody haze. His family cast me out like trash.
Abandoned, violated, and gutted by grief, I was just another casualty in his sick obsession across two families. How could the man who promised to protect me be the architect of my deepest agony? How could his love for another destroy everything, even his own child?
With nothing left to lose, I engineered my own disappearance, vanished, and then strategically unleashed every piece of evidence hidden by my supposed savior. The truth, now exposed, would finally bury them all. The Comeback Billionaire
Modern I, Mike Evans, died young from endless work, a fool who gave everything to build a future.
But then, as my soul drifted, I watched my supposed devoted wife, Jessica, calmly discard my ashes, her face devoid of grief.
Moments later, she was in *our* bed with Chad Peterson, my best friend, laughing, truly laughing.
My son, Kevin, the one I poured every dime into for his surgical career, walked in and called Chad, "Dad."
My entire fortune, built brick by painful brick, was now theirs to exploit.
Jessica’s "girls’ trips" and Kevin’s "specialized training" were just cover stories for their years-long affair.
This sickening truth, this profound betrayal, ripped through me with a pain far more searing than death itself.
My life, my sacrifices, had fueled their illicit happiness, making me nothing more than a convenient workhorse to be discarded.
How could I have been so monumentally, tragically blind to such a colossal lie?
Then, an unexpected jolt, a blinding flash, and I gasped, choking on lake water.
I was back, years in the past, at the exact moment I was supposed to "save" Jessica from drowning.
The very incident that launched my miserable first life of servitude.
But this time, things would be different.
This time, the game would change. You might like
The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Gray Matter For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett.
Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid.
When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives.
"Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself."
I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together.
Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company.
He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life.
He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire.
I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer.
"Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant." The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
Zhi Yao For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties.
But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom.
Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot.
Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years.
"You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic."
My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support.
They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets.
I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life.
But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree.
Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate.
When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block. From Prison To Power: Rise Of The War Goddess
Black Knight Scarlett Hayes thought marrying James Whitmore would finally make her family see her as more than a burden.
Instead, it destroyed her life.
Framed for crimes she didn't commit, betrayed by the people she trusted most, and sentenced to prison while pregnant, Scarlett lost everything in a single night.
Then came the cruelest blow of all.
After giving birth in chains, she was told her baby had died.
The people responsible believed she would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars.
They were wrong.
Five years later, Scarlett returns.
No longer the discarded daughter of the Hayes family. No longer the broken woman they left behind.
Now she is Commander Scarlett Hayes-a decorated war hero, the unseen force behind a global intelligence empire, and a woman powerful enough to make governments tremble.
She comes back for one reason only: revenge.
Her ex-husband, the stepsister who stole her life, and the family who buried her alive are about to learn exactly what happens when a woman with nothing left to lose takes back everything they stole.
But as Scarlett tears through the secrets of her past, one truth threatens to change everything-
the child she mourned for years may not be dead.
And the mysterious man connected to the night that changed her life has been watching from the shadows all along. My Accidental Billionaire husband
Favor V April They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't.
I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered.
I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever.
For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it.
Then fate laughed in my face.
My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child.
Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband.
But some secrets refuse to stay buried.
Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms.
It's standing right in front of me.
And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.
Sir, She's Gone With Their Daughter And Never Returns
Leanora Tanouye My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant.
I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care.
Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient.
When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband.
He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter.
When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust.
I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child.
When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face.
"You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away."
He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back.
His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated.
They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive.
They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money.
I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call.
Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg.
Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke.
"Welcome back to the throne, Madam." Marrying My Ex's Powerful Billionaire Uncle
Yuan Xiluo On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours." Signed The Papers: Watch Me Shine Now
Fritz Heaney For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart.
Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig.
He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce.
His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement.
He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash.
Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage.
I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion.
Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up.
He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions.
Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line.
"I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more."
Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase. Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." A Divorce He Regrets
Alissa Nexus The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever? Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart
Catlaina Sloggett Rain lashed against the twisted metal as Hallie lay pinned in the wreckage of her car, her chest crushed and fading fast.
The paramedic found her phone and desperately dialed her husband, Aidan.
"Your wife has been in a severe car crash! We're losing her!" the paramedic shouted over the storm.
A harsh, mocking laugh came through the speaker.
"Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan sneered. "I do not have time for her crazy games."
The line went dead, and Hallie's heart flatlined.
Separated from her body, Hallie's ghost was forced to witness the horrific aftermath of her own death.
Her mother refused to claim her corpse because there was no insurance payout, telling the hospital to throw her in a ditch.
Pulled back to her penthouse, she found Aidan gently holding her sister, Cecile.
Cecile sobbed about Hallie's "fake crash" in Aidan's arms, but the moment he looked away, a wicked smirk of victory spread across her face.
Cecile was the predator, and Aidan was her willing protector.
He even ordered Hallie's brilliant, life's-work sketchbook to be thrown into an industrial shredder, giving all her corporate resources to fund Cecile's debut.
Hovering in the cold air, Hallie watched her three years of devotion turn to ash.
She was treated like garbage, a mere stepping stone for her sister's rise.
But just as her soul turned to ice, Aidan's face suddenly grew paranoid.
"Check her medical records," Aidan ordered his assistant coldly. "Find out who is helping her fake this injury."
Hallie's invisible spirit shivered with a dark, vengeful anticipation.
What would her arrogant husband do when his relentless digging finally uncovered her cold, dead body? 
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