Gong Moxi
13 Published Stories
Gong Moxi's Books and Stories
Too Late For Regret: My Ex-Husband's Downfall
Modern Colette Bentley gripped her terminal leukemia diagnosis, her world shattering. Her only comfort was that her husband, Edwardo, was the country's foremost hematologist.
But when she called him, desperate for a lifeline, she didn't hear his reassuring voice. Instead, she heard the playful voice of her own sister, Cleo.
"Edwardo, hurry up. The water's getting cold..."
As Colette stood outside an exclusive club hours later, collapsing in a pool of her own blood, Edwardo was busy pressing Cleo against his car and gifting her diamonds.
He ignored Colette's emergency calls, coldly texting back that he was too busy to be bothered.
When Colette miraculously secured a single, priceless vial of an experimental drug to save her own life, Edwardo broke into her private safe and stole it.
He fed her life-saving medicine to his mistress to treat a minor symptom, smiling proudly as he claimed he knew Colette wanted to help.
"I confirmed it was the VX-7 compound and gave it to Cleo. The effect was miraculous."
He had completely erased her existence, casually sentencing his own wife to death to play the hero for the woman who ruined her marriage. How could a doctor who swore to save lives be so monstrous?
But Colette wasn't going to die quietly in the shadows.
She slapped the smug smile off his face, extorted a hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement, and walked into a rival research institute. This time, she chose to live for herself. The White Wolf's Vengeance: A Queen Returns
Werewolf I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion.
Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed.
"Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies."
I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor.
Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel.
Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out.
I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years.
He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back.
Or so he thought.
In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling.
I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison.
"You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back."
I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use.
"I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge."
I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared. Broken Engagement, Unleashed Heiress's Fury
Modern My fiancé, Chadwick Steele, always treated me like a dirty secret-the nerdy brains behind his glamorous tech empire. He flaunted his affair with his mistress, Isa, while constantly reminding me I was an embarrassment he was forced to tolerate.
That all came to a head in a crowded mall. In front of everyone, he publicly broke our engagement, choosing her over me and leaving me to her mercy.
But Isa wasn't satisfied with just winning. She had Chadwick's bodyguards pin me to the floor.
She slapped me, kicked me, and then pulled out a silver letter opener. As she carved a bloody gash across my cheek, she laughed about teaching me a permanent lesson for daring to exist in her world.
I was bleeding and broken, my spirit completely shattered. I thought it was over.
Then, a custom Rolls-Royce pulled up. My mother, Frederica Mooney-the silent titan of Silicon Valley who secretly bankrolls the entire Steele family fortune-stepped out. She took one look at my face, her eyes turning to ice, and gave me the only words I needed to hear: "I give you my full permission." The Heiress's Reckoning: Ten Years Lies
Romance The man who once took a bullet for me stood in our living room, demanding I apologize to his pregnant mistress. He was the broke kid I'd made into a CEO, the foundation of my world. Now, that foundation was a sinkhole.
But the real betrayal came from his mistress's lips. She whispered that Jacob had orchestrated the car accident that caused my miscarriage years ago, claiming he never wanted a child with a "cold, barren bitch" like me.
He tried to move her into my house, painting me as the villain in our story. He paraded their love for the world to see, buying her islands and diamonds while I was cast aside as the city's ice queen.
The love I had for him, built on what I thought was shared grief over our lost son, turned to ash. It was all a lie. Ten years of my life, a carefully staged play he directed.
But he forgot who I am. At a grand gala meant to celebrate his new life, I crashed the party. With the evidence in hand and my allies at my side, I was ready to burn his empire to the ground and make him pay for every single lie. The Engagement's End, A New Beginning
Romance Tonight was supposed to be the most important night of my life, the official announcement of my engagement to Mark Landon.
But as we stood on the dais to make our toast, another woman-Isabel-let out a theatrical cry and crumpled to the floor.
Before I could process what was happening, Mark shoved me. He pushed me aside to get to her, his arm connecting with my shoulder with brutal, dismissive force.
The shove sent me stumbling backward off the platform. I landed hard on the polished marble floor, a collective gasp echoing through the stunned ballroom as my world shattered.
He didn't even glance at me. He helped a perfectly fine Isabel to her feet, tucked her protectively against his side, and then glared down at me, his face a thunderous mask of fury.
"Look what your jealousy has caused!" he snarled, his voice echoing in the silence.
"This engagement is over! I will not be bound to a woman so consumed by petty envy!"
The words were a physical blow. The pain in my soul was so intense it stole my breath, a searing agony as the bond I thought we shared was violently ripped away. The room spun as the pain dropped me to my knees.
Kicked out a service exit, I collapsed in a filthy back alley, my body finally succumbing to a strange illness that had been draining me for weeks.
Just as darkness closed in, a sleek black car screeched to a halt. A man emerged, impossibly tall and radiating an aura of power that made Mark seem like a spoiled child.
He knelt, his stormy eyes locking onto the silver locket our family doctor had pressed into my hand moments before.
His voice was a low, resonant rumble that vibrated through the very ground. "I have found her."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over my face, his expression a chilling mixture of triumph and ice.
"My true fated mate... and the daughter of the woman who destroyed my family." His Ex, My Ruined Wedding
Romance My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, a promise of forever with Ethan, the man I loved.
But then, an unexpected call on the eve of our wedding, from his ex, Brittany-a woman he' d always painted as unstable and manipulative-shattered the illusion.
She pleaded for Ethan to visit her dying mother, a plea Ethan scoffed at, dismissing it as another one of her pathetic stunts to ruin his happiness.
I tried to trust him, to push down the unsettling feeling that her raw grief had felt painfully real.
The next day, as I stood at the altar, ready to say "I do," the grand doors creaked open. Brittany stood there, clad in black, clutching a funeral urn.
She announced her mother was dead, and that Ethan' s refusal to see her was the cause, pulling him away from me, from our wedding, with a single, heart-wrenchwrenching accusation.
He abandoned me at the altar, rushing to comfort her, seemingly forgetting I even existed.
The man I was meant to marry was embracing his ex, whispering apologies, while I stood there, witnessing the death of our future.
Why was he so easily swayed? How could he believe her manipulated tears over everything we had?
I wanted answers, I wanted to understand how my perfect day had become a stage for her twisted drama.
I just wanted to make them pay for destroying my life. My Ex's Unseen Son
Romance Her world revolved around the sterile precision of Boston General, a frantic pace that helped Evie outrun a haunting premonitory dream.
Then he returned: Dr. Julian Vance, her former fiancé and the brilliant surgeon whose abrupt departure had shattered her four years prior.
He wasn't alone; a stunning woman in a pristine white dress, just like her dream, was by his side, introduced as his fiancée.
His cool, dismissive gaze, devoid of any shared past, was a stark reminder of their painful ending.
He publicly dismissed their intense history as "nothing," twisting the knife of her past, desperate attempt to secure his future.
Julian's fiancée, Victoria, a woman straight from Evie' s nightmare, systematically dismantled her reputation, turning colleagues into a whispering gallery of judgment.
The final, brutal blow came when Julian, a cardiothoracic genius, coldly refused to operate on Evie' s dying father, abandoning him to succumb to his illness.
How could the man she once loved, a man sworn to save lives, deliver such a cruel, calculated act of revenge?
Was all their shared history, all her past sacrifice, truly worthless to him, or was this a deeper, colder malice she couldn't comprehend?
The raw pain and burning hatred consumed her, every breath a testament to his unforgivable betrayal.
With nothing left but fractured dreams and a hollow heart, Evie packed a single bag, determined to outrun Boston, him, and the wreckage of a life defined by his cruelty. Rewound: Exam Day Revenge
Young Adult I woke up to the familiar rumble of thunder, the bruised purple sky mirroring the dread in my stomach: exam day.
It was all happening again, precisely like last time.
Last time, Kevin, my earnest ex, held us back for Brie, the school' s queen bee, who, ever the drama, insisted on a "critical influencer photoshoot."
We were late, of course.
But the real disaster wasn't just missing the exam.
Later, at a supposed peace offering, Brie handed me a coffee.
It was laced with tree nuts, my deadliest allergen.
I died.
Kevin and his "Elites" lied, claiming I was distraught and ate something by accident.
Brie played victim online, painting me as the bully, while my mother' s quest for justice shattered her life.
Having lived through that betrayal, that humiliation, that fatal setup once, to wake up here again on this exact morning felt like a second chance – not just at life, but at cosmic rebalancing.
Why was I back?
This time, I wouldn't say a single word.
Let them wait.
Let them miss their exam.
Let them ruin their own lives.
My future at MIT was already secure.
Theirs, however, was about to unravel, with me watching from the sidelines. The Ballerina's Second Act
Romance My life was a perfect ballet: Juilliard-bound, adored by Ethan Miller, the golden boy everyone envied.
Our future shone brighter than any stage light.
Then, the crash. A blinding flash, then darkness.
I woke up to a hospital room, my ballerina legs amputated, a devastating gift from Jess, Ethan' s obsessed ex, who' d deliberately run me down. Every dream shattered.
But the real nightmare began when I uncovered Ethan's secret.
The man who vowed 'forever,' whose hand I clung to, was secretly comforting Jess, his 'enemy,' filling her with false hope and a twisted compassion. His perfect devotion was a suffocating lie, driving me deeper into a pit of physical and emotional agony.
How could the man I loved betray me so utterly, with the very person who destroyed my life? The whys screamed in my head, a desperate, hollow echo in a world turned to ash.
With nothing left but the unbearable pain, I sought the final escape. But instead of an end, I found a terrifying twist: I woke up in a hospital bed, three years earlier, my legs miraculously whole, memories of my devastating demise burning clear.
This time, I would rewrite my tragic fate and break free from this cursed cycle. Nineteen Nights To Oblivion
Romance I was Sarah Miller, an architect with big dreams, when I married Ethan Caldwell, the golden boy of Manhattan.
I truly believed in love, that our quiet city hall wedding was just the beginning of our grand adventure.
But my new life in his lavish penthouse quickly became a gilded cage.
His stepmother, Victoria – his father' s younger wife, and Ethan' s undeniable obsession – revealed the sinister truth.
I was a mere placeholder, a convenient beard, and she dared me: nineteen nights to win his heart, or vanish.
My desperate attempts to connect were met with cold indifference.
He left me trapped in a burning cafe, rushing to Victoria' s side. He demanded I lie to the press, destroying my reputation to save hers. Then, when a chemical attack struck, he shielded her, letting the corrosive liquid burn me.
My love wasn't gradually eroded; it was systematically executed. How could I have been so blind, so foolish, so utterly disposable? The physical scars paled in comparison to the gaping wound in my soul.
But this wasn't the end of my story, only the beginning of my true one.
I broke free, rebuilt a life from the ashes, and found real love. He eventually saw Victoria's true colors and desperately tried to win me back, only to find himself crashing my engagement party.
He came seeking me, but found only the cold, unyielding shell of the woman he' d destroyed. He thought I was his to reclaim, but the love he squandered was irrevocably dead. The Prince's Broken Promises
Romance Our love was a rebel song, forbidden by the Devereaux family's rigid rules.
I was Ella, a blues singer from Bourbon Street, and he was Beau, the Prince of Prytania, who swore his heart was irrevocably mine.
He chose me, even when his powerful family threatened to disinherit him.
"It's you and me, Ella, always," he vowed.
I wore his promises like my grandmother's treasured locket.
But the Devereauxs changed tactics.
A new cruelty.
They gave Beau an ultimatum: produce an heir with a "suitable" woman.
He begged me to understand, a "formality" before we could truly be together.
Then Savannah Sinclair, polished and ambitious, entered our lives.
Soon, Savannah was pregnant, and the "little longer" stretched into an eternity.
Savannah became a constant, cruel presence, plotting against me at every turn.
She maliciously framed me for harming their newborn daughter, Charlotte, planting "evidence" and staging hysterical outbursts.
My protests fell on deaf ears; Beau let his parents lock me in a cold guesthouse.
"Why, Ella? Why would you hurt my child?" Beau asked, his voice like shards of glass.
My heart shattered.
His child, not ours.
Where was the man who once shielded me?
Then, Savannah escalated, wearing my grandmother's locket, brazenly claiming Beau gave it to her.
When I lunged for it, she feigned injury, shrieking about her "baby."
Beau rushed in, his rage blinding him.
He shoved me hard, my head cracking against marble.
Before I could explain, his father, Augustus, raised his hand and struck me across the face.
Beau watched it all, his back turned to me, to the truth, to everything we had ever been.
His silence was consent.
His inaction was betrayal.
In that agonizing moment, I knew: I had to get out.
I would leave, but not before they learned the cost of their cruelty. The Bride Who Vanished: His Public Humiliation
Modern I woke up to the acrid smell of smoke and the piercing screams from the university's burning arts building.
My twin sister, Chloe, was trapped inside.
My boyfriend, Ryan Ashton, stood poised to run, a heroic silhouette against the licking flames.
But a memory, sharp and cold, sliced through me – my first life, a nightmare I' d lived and died.
I remembered him shoving me, my hand smashing against debris, crushing the bones and ending my promising violin career.
Chloe died anyway, yet he blamed me, publicly shaming me.
He then married me.
Not for love, but for a twisted, prolonged revenge.
He systematically broke me down, convinced everyone I was a monster, even my own parents who coldly agreed, calling me selfish.
My existence became a quiet, constant hell until he locked me in a suffocating room, leaving me to die.
Now, it was happening again: the fire, the screams, Ryan ready to play the savior.
Every agonizing moment, every betrayal, every whispered accusation from my family hammered in my mind.
The sheer, burning injustice of my first life fueled a new, chilling resolve.
But this time, I knew.
This time, I would break the cycle.
I stepped aside.
He charged headlong into the inferno, screaming Chloe' s name, never once looking back at me.
My hands remained perfect, unscathed.
My future was mine alone.
This time, destiny would be rewritten.
This time, my revenge would be a symphony. 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." No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return
Xiao Xiaosu I went to the City Clerk's office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk's pitying look told me my entire life was a lie.
"The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single."
The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate.
Gray's text to her was the final blow:
"Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we're done with the charade."
I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray's life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance.
How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury.
I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street."
"I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray."
If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world. 
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