Elizabeth
13 Published Stories
Elizabeth's Books and Stories
From Blood Bank To Billionaire's Obsession
Modern I was the poor girl from Appalachia the wealthy Copeland family adopted out of "charity," bringing me to a life of New York luxury I could never have imagined.
But it was all a lie. I wasn't their daughter. I was a living, breathing blood bank for their precious child, Bridgette, whose life had been secretly saved by my bone marrow.
Once I was no longer useful, they decided to throw me away. On the night of Bridgette's lavish engagement party, she and her fiancé framed me. They drugged my water, lured me to a hotel suite, and tore my designer gown to stage a scene.
Her fiancé stood over me, his face twisted in disgust. "Did you really think spreading your legs would make me forget where you came from? You're just a trashy hillbilly."
Outside on Fifth Avenue, my adoptive parents screamed at me in front of the press, calling me a disgrace. My sister wept, accusing me of trying to destroy her perfect life out of jealousy.
They expected me to crumble, to become the pathetic scandal they could discard like garbage. They thought they were dealing with a scared, helpless girl from the mountains.
But they made a fatal mistake. The soul of that poor girl was already gone. And I, the top-tier operative known as Glacier, had just woken up in her body. Eight Years Of His Cold Betrayal
Modern After eight years in a cold marriage, I watched my husband, Damian, run past me during a raging fire. He ignored my screams, his only focus on saving another woman.
That night, he coldly admitted he never loved me. Our entire marriage was just a business deal he was forced into.
But his betrayal didn't end there. His mistress, Aida, framed my innocent younger brother for a crime he didn't commit. Damian believed her lies without question.
He stood by as she had my brother murdered in his hospital bed. He even forced me to crawl over broken glass to apologize for "upsetting" her.
The final blow came when he threatened me with my mother' s heirloom box, not knowing it held my brother' s ashes. He had taken everything from me-my love, my family, my dignity.
He thought he had broken me. But he only forged me into a weapon.
Now, I'm back. And as the new majority shareholder of his company, I'm here to make him pay for every last sin. His Unwanted Bride, Another Man's Queen
Mafia My fiancé, the ruthless Mafia Underboss, tore my dead mother's necklace from my throat and fastened it around another woman's neck.
"Diana needs it," Arthur said, his eyes cold. "My blood remembers loving her. It calms her anxiety."
He was referring to the bone marrow transplant that saved his life. Diana was connected to the donor, and Arthur believed his new blood made him belong to her.
I became a ghost in my own home, forced to watch him crown a usurper.
When Diana faked a fall at a gala, accusing me of pushing her, Arthur didn't hesitate. He decided to "discipline" me publicly to teach me respect.
He raised the whip.
"Arthur, please, I'm pregnant!" I screamed, shielding my stomach.
"Don't lie to me," he spat, and the lash came down.
I lost our baby on that cold marble floor in a pool of blood. He didn't believe me. He stepped over my body to take Diana to dinner.
He didn't stop there. He let my grandmother die in the ER to tend to Diana's bruised nose. He even dug up my grandmother's grave because Diana wanted the view for a garden.
I finally fled, vanishing into the night.
It wasn't until months later, when he found the autopsy report of our unborn child and the toxicology results proving Diana had been drugging him, that the fog lifted.
He tracked me down to a small town, where I was finally healing with a good man.
The feared Underboss fell to his knees in the pouring rain, holding the whip he had used on me, shaking violently.
"Beat me, Ella," he begged, tears mixing with the mud. "Hurt me. Make us even."
I looked at the monster I used to love and dropped his ring into the dirt.
"You can't bring back the dead, Arthur," I whispered. "And you are dead to me." The CEO's Secret Son and His Doctor Wife
Romance My husband's secret life walked into my office on my first day as Chief Resident: a four-year-old boy with his father's eyes and a rare hereditary allergy that I knew all too well.
Emilio, the man I married, the brilliant rival who swore he couldn't live without me, had another family.
At his company's anniversary gala, his son publicly called me a bad woman trying to steal his daddy. When I took a step toward the child, Emilio shoved me to the ground to protect him. I hit my head, and as the life of our unborn child bled out of me, he walked away without a second glance.
He never visited me in the hospital. He left me to deal with the loss of our baby alone. That's when I knew the man I loved was truly gone, and our five years of marriage had been a lie.
His mistress tried to finish the job, pushing me off a cliff into the sea. But I survived. And as the world mourned the death of Elana Thomas, I boarded a plane to Zurich, ready to begin my new life. My Husband Imprisoned Me for His Dead Lover
Modern I spent five years in a rehabilitation center for a crime I didn't commit. When I was finally released, my husband, Courtland, was the one waiting for me. He was the one who put me there.
He brought me back to our mansion not as his wife, but as a prisoner. I was to serve as a living penance for the death of his true love-my stepsister, Kinsley.
I scrubbed floors on my hands and knees while his mother and the staff watched with contempt. I was a ghost in my own home, a constant, breathing sacrifice to his grief.
Then one day, the woman I had supposedly killed walked into the living room.
Kinsley was alive.
She shrank back in fake terror, and Courtland rushed to her side, shielding her from me.
"You're frightening her," he snarled.
That night, Kinsley brought me a cup of tea, her eyes glittering with triumphant hatred. It was the same poison that had made me barren in my first life.
I knew their perfect, diabolical plan. They would break me completely, then get rid of me.
But they didn't know that this time, I remembered everything. In my first life, their cruel games led to the death of my innocent little brother, Aspen.
I took the cup from her hands and drank every last drop. I would endure their torture. I would play their game. And when they least expected it, I would escape and save the only person who ever mattered.
Seven Years, Instant Regret
Romance The picture arrived on my phone, a screenshot of a hotel booking for a presidential suite under my husband, Liam Thorne' s, name. My world didn' t shatter; it just went quiet.
That night, Liam came home to a shattered house and a shattered wife. He didn' t ask what was wrong. Instead, when I desperately tried to connect, he grabbed my wrists and asked with tired disgust, "What's wrong with you? You're acting insane."
His phone lit up with a call from "Chloe" -his assistant, his mistress. He pushed me away, stumbled over broken glass, and answered, soothing her with, "No, I'm home. Just... a small issue." He defended her from me, calling me hysterical.
I blurted, "Let's get a divorce." To my horror, he instantly agreed, producing already-signed papers from his jacket. Tears streaming, I begged him to stay, grabbing his pants, but he looked down with impassive disgust.
"It's too late for this," he said, dropping the divorce papers at my feet, dated three weeks prior. He chose her pride over our seven years, offering a settlement for my silence.
You're nothing without me, Elara. You'll be crawling back within a month, begging me to take care of you. His words echoed as he walked out, leaving me amidst the ruins of our life. But a cold fury began to simmer. He wanted this easy? Not a chance. Stolen Scripts, Shattered Life
Romance My film career was soaring, my dreams finally within reach.
Then, the word "Plagiarist!" echoed through the festival hall, a death knell for everything I' d built.
Industry contacts vanished, my name became a hashtag for fraud, and my working-class parents, who' d sacrificed everything, disowned me.
Just as I contemplated tearing up my life, producer Ethan Scott appeared, a charismatic savior who saw through the lies, stood by me, and whisked me away to a secluded Austin home.
He built me a private editing suite, framed my old scripts, and became my biggest fan, my only audience, convincing me the outside world was too dangerous.
For five years, I was safe, loved, and completely isolated-until tonight.
Scrolling Instagram, I saw a Sundance hit, "Dust Devil Heart," hailed as a masterpiece by Sabrina Lawrence.
Its story was identical to the script I' d just finished, the one I' d read aloud to Ethan.
And there, in the background of Sabrina's celebratory photo, was my husband, his arm possessively around her, a look of adoration I hadn't seen in years etched on his face.
My "savior" was at Sundance, not in L.A., and everything I believed about my perfect, safe life shattered into a million pieces.
I had married the man who orchestrated my downfall and stole my art, turning my life into his "content farm."
But he underestimated me.
He broke my spirit once, but this time, he just ignited a fire. The Woman He Discarded
Billionaires I used to play my saxophone for joy, but for three years, it was a soundtrack to my gilded cage.
My brother, Leo, was gravely ill, and I lived in Ethan Vanderbilt' s high-rise, his secret, his "charity case."
He paid for Leo's life, and in return, I endured his cold disdain, his casual cruelty.
But then, I heard him call me "old news," "desperate," "nothing special" to his friends, mocking the woman who sacrificed everything.
His new lover, Chloe, became the focus of his manufactured kindness, and I was just a "practice" run, a "charity case" to be displayed, then dismissed.
The final blow: he deliberately canceled Leo's life-sustaining payment, handing the weapon to Chloe, who gleefully blocked me.
Leo died that night, and the world I' d built for him turned into ash around me.
They gave me flowers I was allergic to, tweeted about new diamond bracelets, and celebrated birthday parties while my brother slipped away.
How could the man I gave my life to so carelessly destroy the only thing I lived for?
My chains snapped.
I walked out of his gilded cage forever, taking only my saxophone and Leo' s ashes, ready to reclaim the rhythm of my own life. Adam Carter: Rebuilding a Life
Romance I was Ethan Miller, an aspiring architect, deeply in love with Olivia Beaumont, the formidable CEO of a New York luxury empire.
Our bond seemed unbreakable, her passion fierce, almost consuming.
I was her world, or so I believed.
But that possessive love, tangled with her power, brought three devastating betrayals.
It began with a jarring public humiliation involving a charismatic musician she' d "discovered."
My quiet professional dream was mocked.
Then my trust was shattered further when she confessed a desperate, illicit pregnancy, blaming family pressure for the child being his, not mine.
My heart broke again, but I still clung to the hope of the woman who once chased me.
The final, soul-crushing blow: she publicly gifted my late mentor' s priceless manifesto, a symbol of my core identity, directly to the man who' d stolen my place.
How could the woman who claimed to live for me so relentlessly dismantle my life, leaving me a ghost of my former self?
Every painful revelation left me questioning if her love was a blessing or a curse.
Broken beyond repair, I shed my old life.
I became Adam Carter, fleeing to a quiet Oregon town to rebuild.
But Olivia Beaumont, unwilling to relinquish her hold, tracked me down.
Her desperate, final attempt to reclaim me involved a shocking revelation and a treacherous act, forcing a confrontation that would decisively close our destructive chapter and reveal the true depths of betrayal. The Second Life of Ashley: A Bitter Payback
Modern Kevin' s sharp, accusing voice sliced through the heavy haze. He stood in my old room, its faded floral wallpaper mocking me, holding up a therapeutic massager. "What' s this, Ashley? Something dirty?"
My heart hammered, a wild bird trapped. I blinked. It was real. I was back.
This exact moment, this very massager, had been the fuse of my first life' s destruction.
My younger brother, Kevin, had whined for it, then vilely twisted its purpose, spreading insidious rumors about my promiscuity at college.
My mother, Brenda, instead of defending me, had blindly believed his lies. She' d screamed, called me a disgrace, and summarily forced me to drop out, shattering every one of my dreams.
Then, she tried to marry me off to Earl, a monstrous, predatory man who delighted in breaking me, beating me, and finally, ending my life.
I remembered their callous faces afterward, a chilling indifference as they collected money over my corpse. The suffocating stench of that past clung to the air, a physical manifestation of their betrayal.
The sheer, burning injustice of it all had consumed me in my dying moments. How could my own family be so utterly cruel?
But now, standing here again at the precipice of my past, a cold fire ignited deep within my chest. This time, I wouldn' t be the victim. This time, I would be the master manipulator. And their dance of destruction was about to begin. From Greasy Queen To Polished Power
Romance For a decade, I built a life with Jax, riding shotgun through the grit and glory of the Road Vipers.
I was his "old lady," stained with grease and unwavering loyalty, believing I was his unshakeable queen in that wild world.
Then, he looked across our cluttered loft, smoking a cigarette, and dropped the bomb: "We're done. I'm going legit with Lily. She's clean, simple. Not like you."
He handed me a wad of cash, a pathetic severance package for ten years, while his new, "undamaged" girlfriend stood by.
My heart hammered, but I stayed quiet, even as I threw the silver dog tags—symbols of his fierce possessiveness, engraved with 'Mine'—into a construction dumpster, watching his stunned, pale face.
The bitterness was scorching, but the confusion was a cold, aching void.
Was I truly just a disposable relic of his past, easily replaced by some sweet kid?
And then, just as I felt utterly discarded, my childhood connection, Julian—impeccably tailored and utterly unexpected—pulled up in a sleek Audi, offering sanctuary from the pouring rain.
What I didn't know then was that Lily wasn't just a random waitress.
She was a carefully placed pawn in Julian's long game to break Jax's hold over me.
He'd orchestrated my "clean break" to finally claim me himself.
Now, I'm faced with a deeper betrayal and a startling truth: can I navigate a future where my 'rescue' was a calculated manipulation, and will I expose the shocking truth that shattered Jax's shiny new empire, or choose my own path entirely? The Assistant Who Claimed Her Heart
Romance Ethan Hayes, a dedicated academic, was on the cusp of an exciting future.
Seven years intertwined with Chloe Vance, his brilliant fiancée, had built a life they meticulously planned, including a prestigious joint fellowship.
But their perfect world shattered when Liam Miller, a charming undergraduate research assistant, became a fixture in their lives.
One late night, Ethan found Chloe in Liam's arms, a scene of shocking intimacy that made him an intruder in his own home.
Chloe, inexplicably swayed, defended Liam, inviting him into their apartment and dismissing Ethan's discomfort as jealousy.
Liam, a master manipulator, escalated the betrayal—faking injuries, weaving elaborate lies, and ultimately, convincing Chloe to file a police report accusing Ethan of assault.
Ethan watched in disbelief as Chloe’s unwavering loyalty to Liam overshadowed their seven years together, her eyes filled with cold condemnation, utterly convinced of his supposed cruelty. Was he losing his mind, or was the woman he loved truly this blind, this easily manipulated?
Desperate to escape the suffocating web of lies and betrayal, Ethan made a drastic decision: cut all ties.
With the help of his former mentor, he decided to leave everything behind—his fellowship, his fiancée, and the painful memories of Archwood—for a fresh start across the country. The Phone Call That Unraveled My Life
Romance I was stuck.
Ten years.
Ten years married to Ethan, and now he looked at me like inconvenient furniture.
My sister, Jessica, stood there, a smirk on her face, demanding my grandmother’s antique necklace for her “career-making audition.”
Ethan, my husband, the man I loved, told me she needed it.
His voice was flat, devoid of any warmth.
He was sleeping with her, with Jessica, my own sister.
And he didn't even bother to hide it anymore.
When I finally whispered "No," his eyes narrowed.
"Don't be difficult, Sarah. It's just a necklace," he sneered.
He dismissed my pain, ridiculed my anger.
I tried to divorce him, but he just laughed, "You're mine, Sarah. Don't forget that."
I was trapped, defeated, retreated to the dusty attic, my sanctuary of forgotten things.
How could the man I married, the boy who wrote clumsy love poems, become this monster?
This cold, controlling stranger who openly cheated with my sister and wouldn't let me go.
Was there any escape from this personal hell?
Any way to reclaim the life he had stolen?
Then, my old college phone, a relic I hadn't touched in years, flickered to life.
A desperate, wild thought struck me as I saw his old number.
What if?
I dialed.
A young, hesitant voice answered, "Hello?"
It was him.
Ethan. Nineteen.
My Ethan. You might like
The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he’d dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family’s land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell—the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I’ve suspended Hugh’s executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I’m just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Ruby Stone When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" 
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