Gray Matter
14 Published Stories
Gray Matter's Books and Stories
The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Billionaires 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." Left At The Altar: Marrying The Billionaire
Billionaires At my million-dollar wedding to the Hoffman heir, the priest was interrupted by a ringing phone.
My groom, Elijah, didn't silence it. He answered it right at the altar, yanked his arm from my grasp, and walked out because his "true love" Jalyn needed him.
I was left standing alone in front of three hundred elite guests, blinded by mocking camera flashes. My own mother rolled her eyes in disgust, later threatening to freeze my trust fund and sell me to a notorious playboy to recoup her losses. Elijah even had the nerve to call me, demanding I take the blame for the canceled wedding to save his PR, while live news feeds showed him cradling a fragile Jalyn in the hospital.
I had spent two years bending over backward to be his perfect bride, only to be discarded like trash. What made it sicker was finding out that Jalyn's sudden "medical emergency" was actually a ruptured cyst caused by having vigorous sex with Elijah right before he walked down the aisle.
I refused to let them destroy me.
Kicking off my six-inch heels, I stepped down from the altar and walked straight to the back row where Cristian Lowe sat. He was the ruthless iceberg of Wall Street and Elijah's most terrifying rival.
I looked up at his sharp jawline and asked the craziest question of my life.
"Will you marry me?"
He stood up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"As you wish." The Maxwell Secret
Modern My three-year marriage to Ethan Vanderbilt, New York's golden heir, was a carefully managed illusion of high-society perfection.
Publicly, we were the power couple; privately, our Park Avenue apartment echoed with cold silence.
I had clung to the belief that, unlike other men in our rarefied circle, Ethan was at least impeccably discreet.
That fragile peace shattered when I found an AmEx receipt from a Hamptons hotel I'd never visited.
A quick call confirmed "Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt" had enjoyed a romantic weekend there.
I, however, was not that Mrs. Vanderbilt.
The betrayal felt like a cold knife twisting in my gut.
Days later, the situation escalated horrifically when his college-aged mistress, Chloe, stormed my home with her screaming friends.
She publicly denounced me as an "old, barren hag," claiming Ethan was leaving me for her, right before they physically assaulted me.
When Ethan finally arrived, he didn't shield me; he shielded *her*, his little plaything.
He actually told me Chloe was "just a kid" and that I, being "older," should "know better" than to cause a scene.
To add insult to profound injury, he later casually mentioned he wouldn't even care if I sought my own "diversions."
His blatant dismissal of my assault, my dignity, his casual cruelty, was more painful than the affair itself.
He'd give me permission to cheat after allowing his mistress to attack me in my own home?
Our entire marriage felt like a sick, twisted joke.
That night, a text message illuminated my phone's screen: "Thinking of you. - N."
It was Noah, the handsome, kind-eyed stranger from my own impulsive night of rebellion just after I first discovered Ethan's betrayal.
Ethan's careless, cold words – "I wouldn't even care" – echoed in the sudden quiet of my mind.
A reckless, defiant spark ignited deep within my bruised soul.
"My place. One hour," I typed back, my fingers trembling slightly.
My silent suffering, my role as the perfect, accommodating Vanderbilt wife, was officially over. Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Wolf King
Werewolf I was the unshifted fiancée of the Alpha, working eighteen-hour days to design his kingdom while waiting for my wolf to finally wake up.
He told me we couldn't be intimate until I shifted, claiming it was to "conserve my energy."
I believed him, right up until I saw the email notification on his open laptop.
It was an invitation to the baptism of his two-year-old son. The mother was Hayden, the "fragile" Omega he claimed was just like a sister to him.
He wasn't waiting for me to shift. He was waiting for me to finish his fortifications so he could replace me.
When I tried to freeze the construction funds, he sabotaged my climbing gear, hoping a "tragic accident" would silence me forever.
When I survived, he froze my bank accounts and humiliated me at the pack auction, using the money I had saved to buy a diamond necklace for his mistress.
They thought I was powerless without a wolf. They thought they could broadcast intimate videos of me to shame me into submission.
But they forgot that as the architect, I built the very security systems they felt safe behind.
I walked into the ceremony not as a victim, but with the rival Alpha by my side and a decrypted USB drive in my hand.
"You want to talk about secrets?" I smiled at the terrifying silence of the hall.
"Let's show the pack who the real father of your 'heir' is." The Day They Erased Me: I Came Back
Romance My mother’s impossibly sweet voice confirmed the usual: another polite banishment to an "art program."
My life, I knew, had always been transactional, a mere "spare part" after I saved my sister Jessica's life.
But this time, as I numbly agreed, a full-body shock pulsed through me.
I remembered dying.
The screech of tires, the shattered glass, the red bloom on a wedding dress.
I was back.
Reborn.
On the very morning they first tried to erase me.
My past was a relentless betrayal.
Jessica, the golden child, had stolen my identity, my connection with Ethan—the man who once called me "Wren."
My parents enabled her, labeling me jealous.
At their engagement party, a staged "accident" left my hand bleeding, ignored.
Then, my own father publicly struck me, and Ethan, the man I loved, stood by, his face utterly cold.
How could they be so blindly cruel?
How could my own family always choose their lies over my existence?
And Ethan, who once knew my quiet soul, believed every falsehood, watching me break without mercy?
The pain of betrayal was suffocating.
No more.
As the ultimate humiliation settled, a terrifying resolve hardened.
I wouldn't fight for their approval.
I wouldn't scream.
I would agree to their terms, but internally, I would sever every tie.
I would disappear, truly free, and build a new life where they held no power. Omega No More: The White Wolf of Wintermoon
Werewolf I was the unshifted Omega of the Blood Moon Pack, treated like a servant by my family. But I thought I at least had the love of my betrothed, Kaelen, our future Alpha.
That was until I found the secret letters hidden in his combat scrolls.
He wrote that claiming a useless Omega like me was just a temporary gambit to make Seraphina, the Gamma's golden daughter, jealous.
At the pack's celebratory feast, Kaelen publicly humiliated me. He handed the sacred stag's heart—a symbol meant for his Luna—directly to Seraphina, while the high-ranking wolves laughed at my starving, frail body.
When I tried to walk away, he unleashed his crushing Alpha Command to force me to my knees.
Worse, my own father grabbed a heavy hunting whip and lashed my back, furious that I couldn't keep my mate's favor and ruined our family's chance to rise in rank.
For eighteen years, I endured their beatings and Kaelen's poisonous lies, believing my bones were simply too broken to Shift.
I didn't understand why my own blood treated me like a contagion, or why the male who promised to protect me threw me away like garbage.
But as the whip tore through my skin, something ancient and freezing woke up inside my blood.
On the day of the military blood pact, I secretly crossed out the elite Vanguard and bound my soul to the freezing, brutal North.
When Kaelen finally realized his mistake and came begging in the snow, I looked down at him with the glowing silver eyes of a legendary White Wolf.
"I, Elara, reject you as my mate." Betrayed Bride: Claimed By The Ruthless Boss
Romance Minutes before her wedding, Alyssa found her fiancé, Preston, tangled in the backseat of a car with her stepsister.
They weren't just having an affair; they were plotting to lock her in a psychiatric ward to steal her mother's priceless legacy.
Instead of crying, Alyssa walked down the aisle and broadcasted their sickening video on the massive altar screen.
But her family's cruelty ran deeper. Her stepmother drugged her right in front of the elite guests, dragging her away under the guise of a mental breakdown.
When Alyssa woke up, she had been sold for ten million to the infamous Strickland family to clear a debt.
They locked her in a decaying room, offering her as a sacrifice to the scarred, violent "Beast" of the East Wing, who was known to tear his brides apart.
Trapped in a bloodstained wedding dress, Alyssa realized her family didn't just want her committed; they wanted her tortured to death in the dark.
She refused to let them win.
Escaping the madman's room in the dead of night, she stumbled straight into the bedroom of his brother—the ruthless, untouchable CEO, Jabez Strickland.
Staring down the barrel of his loaded gun, noticing his agonizing migraine, she made a desperate gamble for her life.
"Keep me out of the East Wing, and I will give you the first painless night of sleep you've had in years." The True Heiress Returns After Divorce
Romance For two years, Emmie’s marriage to Daxton Ellis was nothing but a cold medical contract. She was merely a living vessel, kept around to provide a bone marrow transplant for his true love, Hortensia.
When Emmie's grandfather was dying in the ICU, she desperately begged Daxton to save him. Instead, he coldly refused, ordering his bodyguards to trap her so her surgery wouldn't be delayed.
To completely destroy Emmie, Hortensia maliciously faked a severe allergy attack and then intentionally threw herself down a steep flight of iron stairs.
She perfectly framed Emmie for attempted murder right in front of Daxton's eyes.
Believing his lover's lies, Daxton violently choked Emmie and locked her in a pitch-black room, cutting off all her communication with the outside world.
Trapped in the freezing darkness, Emmie received a secret call from the weeping butler.
"Master Silas... his heart stopped. He was calling your name. He died calling your name."
The phone slipped from her fingers, the agonizing realization hitting her that because of Daxton, she didn't even get to say a final goodbye to her only family.
The raw, guttural scream that tore through her throat marked the absolute death of her six years of unrequited love. Clutching the signed divorce agreement and the key to her grandfather's hidden billionaire trust, Emmie wiped her bloodstained hands and prepared to make them pay. The Alpha's Lie, The Omega's Uprising
Werewolf After a 36-hour shift at the healing center, I brought my mate, Alpha Damien, his favorite meal, eager for a quiet moment together.
But I found him in a secret manor on the edge of our territory, laughing with another woman and a little boy I never knew existed.
Hiding in the shadows, I heard him call me his "Omega placeholder," a political tool he would publicly reject once a new treaty was signed. My adoptive parents, the Alpha and Luna, were in on it. My entire life, my fated bond, was a carefully constructed lie.
Just then, he sent me a mind-link, "Miss you, my sweet."
The casual cruelty of it burned away my tears, leaving only cold, hard rage.
They were planning my public humiliation at a grand dinner. But I prepared a gift for his son’s birthday party, set to be delivered at the exact same time.
Inside was a data crystal containing every one of their secrets. Unmasking Their Lies
Modern The sharp, chemical tang of turpentine used to smell like hope, but not today.
I woke up eighteen again, just weeks before my art school scholarship deadline-the one my mother "helped" me meet by giving me paint stripper instead of turpentine, ruining my masterpiece.
My family, ever the loving wolves, had blamed me, calling me ungrateful and a failure, twisting the knife until I believed I deserved the heartbreak and a lifetime of mediocrity in a cold, lonely apartment.
I spent years internalizing their gaslighting, wondering why I was never good enough, always the villain in their self-serving narrative.
But this time, as my mother chirped, "Good morning, sweetie. I brought you something to help you finish up," I knew. This was my second chance, and they had no idea who they were dealing with. My High School Sweetheart, Reimagined
Romance The preacher' s voice echoed in the barn as I stood at the altar, ready to marry Jocelyn, my high school sweetheart. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but all I saw was the twisted metal of a Ford Explorer.
In another life, our 25th wedding anniversary ended with a phone call: "Your wife... she didn't make it. She wasn't alone, sir. A man was with her. Ryan Scott."
The grief was a physical wound, but the betrayal poisoned twenty-five years of my life. Now, miraculously, I was back. Reborn on this very day, given a second chance.
Not to fix it, but to end it before it began.
"No," I declared, cutting through the vows like a gunshot. Jocelyn' s smile faltered, confusion widening her perfect eyes. A cold fury fueled me as I told her I didn' t love her anymore, then leaped from the loft, limping away from the life of quiet misery I refused to live again.
But despite my escape, she kept coming back – cleaning my apartment, charming my parents. It had to be about money, I reasoned, rumors of her family' s debt swirling. I even offered her a financial bailout, demanding she leave me alone.
"You think this is about money?" she whispered, tears streaming. "I came back, too! I came back for you!" Her words shattered my carefully constructed reality. She came back, too? Impossible. She collapsed, and I later saw her with Ryan Scott, the man she died with. Rage confirmed my initial suspicions.
But then, she found me, telling a story of an entity, a parasite, that controlled her in our past life, leading to the crash. And then, she collapsed again, sick. I finally learned the truth: Glioblastoma. My cancer, from my old life. She had taken my fate.
This wasn't just a second chance, but a cosmic correction. And now, reborn again, I stood before her in high school. "Hi," I said, my voice filled with a love that had crossed lifetimes. "I'm Ethan Lester. It's nice to meet you. For the first time. Again." The Senator's Blind Spot
Modern Senator Harrison believed he understood my ambition: a seat at his influential table, maybe even his bed.
He was utterly mistaken.
My aspirations were far larger, rooted in the unseen, ruthless power that truly governed D.C.
It all started with a public humiliation from a new-money donor' s entitled daughter, which I subtly handled through my estranged, powerful father, Marcus.
Then, the calculated retaliation escalated into horror: my apartment engulfed in flames, a shadowy figure in my doorway, and me barely escaping certain death.
My temporary life, along with the identity of Chloe Cheney, was completely erased, officially declared a tragic accident.
The cold dread settled in, the unsettling question of whether my own father, Marcus, had ordered the attack, considering me a disposable "loose end" in his shadowy world.
That gnawing suspicion, coupled with the immediate need for survival, transformed me.
Chloe Cheney had died, but Ava was reborn, stepping into Washington D.C. with a meticulously crafted new identity.
This new persona was not a disguise, but a calculated opportunity to find my would-be killer and claim the power I truly deserved. His Brother's Ghost, My Captor
Romance The positive pregnancy test signal was a secret in a three-year marriage built on a silent debt. My husband, Ethan Cole, asked for a divorce again this morning-his ninety-ninth time. I married him because I owed him, after he supposedly saved me from a capsized canoe years ago.
Then the news broke: Ethan's older brother, Marcus, was dead from a boating accident. Ethan miraculously survived, feigning severe injuries and memory loss, now believing he was Marcus. But I overheard them. "The memory loss is perfect, Mother," Ethan whispered. "Olivia will finally be mine. Marcus is gone. And Sarah… Sarah will be easy to get rid of now."
My blood ran cold. The man I married, the supposed hero, was a monster. My pregnancy? An "inconvenience." He was using his brother' s death, manipulating everyone. The debt wasn't paid; my life was being stolen. I made a horrifying decision. I terminated the pregnancy, desperate to break free. But my nightmare was just beginning.
Framed for a hit-and-run, I found myself in county jail, then stabbed in a brawl, ending up in a hospital bed. Ethan, still playing Marcus, hovered, his concern a sickening lie. Soon, his mother, Eleanor, offered me juice. My nursing instincts screamed: she was drugging me. Later, "Marcus" slipped into my room, his eyes predatory, confessing their plan for me to bear the Cole heir.
Adrenaline surged through the fog in my brain. As nurses rushed in during the chaos, I grabbed my phone, and with trembling fingers, dialed an international number. My last resort. "Ben," I sobbed, "Help me!" The Jilted Storm Weaver's Return
Fantasy Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, stood ready to claim my birthright as a Moon Bay Guardian, destined to command the skies as a Storm Weaver.
But my power died to a nervous breeze, and amidst the elders’ scorn, my fiancé Richard publicly rejected me, proposing instead to my adopted sister, Olivia.
Humiliation burned, yet worse was the invisible force that slammed into me, stripping every last shred of my abilities, leaving me hollow.
In my despair, the powerful leader, Ethan Blackwood, offered me his name, his protection—a lifeline I desperately grasped.
But my savior was my ultimate betrayer.
I soon discovered Ethan had deliberately sabotaged my Awakening, using me as a conduit to siphon Olivia's ritualistic burdens—her “Cleansing Curses”—so she could rise.
His promises of love were cruel lies masking a sinister plot.
Worst of all, Olivia, with a smirk, confessed she engineered my parents’ ritualistic deaths, and Ethan, the man who married me, had not only known but covered up her crime.
He watched me suffer, using me as a shield, all for her.
My entire life was a lie, a sacrifice for his twisted ambition for Olivia.
Cold rage replaced my shattered heart.
If they desired my end, they would instead find my beginning.
I meticulously faked my own gruesome death, disappearing into the bayou's shadows.
My tormentors believed me gone, but from the depths of betrayal, I would rise, no longer just Sarah Miller, but a force of nature reborn, ready to unleash a storm far more devastating than they could ever imagine.
They wanted to strip me bare?
Now, they would face the thunder. You might like
The Unwanted Wife's Flawless Spectacular Comeback
Hansiain Finley-moise For four years, Ellyn was the scarred, despised wife of billionaire Baron Hudson, enduring his cruelty with silent devotion.
But one night, after brutally forcing himself on her, he threw divorce papers at her bruised chest.
"Did you really think I could ever stomach looking at that hideous face of yours for the rest of my life?"
He kicked her out into the freezing rain because his flawless true love, Christine, was finally coming home.
To ensure Ellyn suffered, Baron froze all her bank accounts, wanting her to starve on the streets until she begged for his mercy.
Penniless and shivering in a rundown apartment, Ellyn discovered she was pregnant with his child, right as the news broadcasted him lovingly welcoming Christine at the airport.
Her heart died completely. She had given him ten years of her life, only to be thrown away like garbage.
But a shocking miracle happened: the intimate trauma had somehow triggered a biological cure, completely peeling away the ugly scar that had ruined her face for twenty years.
If the ruthless Hudson family found out she was healed and carrying the heir, they would steal her baby and destroy her.
Instead of taking his five-million-dollar hush money, Ellyn tore the contract to pieces, hid her newly flawless face, and vanished to Paris.
Four years later, the Hudson family's grand banquet was brought to a dead halt by a stunning, untouchable woman in a red trench coat and her genius three-year-old son.
Ellyn was back, and she wasn't the ugly duckling anymore. 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." I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. 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." Betrayed By Him, Saved By His Uncle
Ben Nan On her wedding night at The Plaza Hotel, Clara went looking for her husband.
Instead, she found him in the dimly lit parking garage, passionately pinning down her bridesmaid.
She couldn't even scream or expose them. Just hours before the ceremony, Julian had tricked her into signing away her twenty percent shares of their co-founded company, leaving her completely penniless and unable to pay her grandmother's life-saving medical bills.
Fleeing in absolute despair, a sudden hotel blackout plunged her into a second nightmare. She was dragged into a pitch-black room and brutally violated by a heavily drugged stranger.
When a shattered Clara returned to the office to audit the books and reclaim her power, Julian demoted her to a dusty desk by the trash cans.
He flaunted his mistress in the executive suite and deliberately sent Clara into a horrifying trap. He arranged for vicious clients to drug and assault her, demanding high-definition blackmail photos so he could divorce her with absolutely nothing.
"Since you want to play rough, you can service Mr. Petrocelli tonight," the thug sneered, locking the VIP room door.
Clara was pushed to the brink of hell. Why was the man she devoted three years of her life to trying to destroy her so completely? And why did the freezing cedarwood scent of the stranger who ruined her in the dark perfectly match Conrad Vance, the ruthless CEO and Julian's untouchable uncle?
Rather than let Julian win, Clara smashed a glass bottle, held the jagged edge to her own throat to force the men back, and threw herself off the second-floor balcony into the freezing night.
But the bone-crushing impact never came. A massive figure shot out from the shadows and caught her, and her brutal counterattack finally began. 
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