Lan Zhen
15 Published Stories
Lan Zhen's Books and Stories
Married To The Comatose Tech Emperor
Modern Gina was locked in Blackwood Asylum for five years, framed as a violent lunatic by her own wealthy family.
Her brother suddenly dragged her out, but not to save her. He forced her into an arranged marriage with Kerr Brooks, the billionaire emperor of New York, just to save the Rollins family's failing company.
Back at the estate, her parents treated her like a biohazard. They showered her adopted sister, Hailie, with love and luxury, while forcing Gina into a freezing servant's room. They threw a brutal prenuptial agreement at her face and threatened to leak a deepfake scandal video to the press if she didn't play the perfect bride. To ensure Gina's absolute ruin, Hailie even ordered a maid to spike her dinner with a massive dose of LSD. They were ruthlessly sacrificing her to a man who was secretly in a deep, unresponsive coma.
"She is just a tool, Hailie. Do not waste your pity on a broken thing."
Her mother's cold words echoed in the foyer. They looked at Gina's faded jumpsuit and vacant eyes, fully believing she was a heavily sedated pawn they could easily manipulate and discard.
But they didn't know Gina was a master hacker, a lethal underground surgeon, and the secret owner of the world's top luxury brand. She neutralized the poison in seconds and slipped into her comatose fiancé's heavily guarded ICU. Disabling the secret neuro-suppressants keeping him asleep, Gina smiled in the dark. If they wanted her to marry a corpse, she would use his empire to bury them all alive. Reborn Princess: Burning Her Scornful Crown
Romance I spent three years trying to be the perfect Crown Princess, enduring my husband Bradley's coldness while pouring my family's fortune into his royal projects. I truly believed our marriage was built on duty and that our adopted son, Jimmie, was the bond that held us together.
Everything changed on a stormy night when I caught Bradley in his study, calmly watching my family's trust fund documents-the entire Orozco legacy-burn to ash in the fireplace. He didn't even look guilty as he explained that I was never his partner, only a convenient bank account for the Crown.
When I lunged to save the papers, Bradley shoved me to the floor with bored indifference. Then, the ultimate betrayal walked through the door: Jimmie. My son didn't run to comfort me; he took Bradley's hand and looked at me with pure venom. Bradley sneered, revealing that Jimmie wasn't adopted at all-he was his biological son with my best friend, Icy.
"We just needed you to fund his future," Bradley said.
I was dragged out by guards and thrown into a sedan speeding toward the cliffs. At Dead Man's Curve, the driver jumped out of the moving car, leaving me to plummet into the freezing ocean. As the water filled my lungs and my life faded, I didn't feel fear. I felt a distilled, murderous hate.
I woke up gasping for air in my old bedroom, three years before the crash. It was the day of my fake infertility diagnosis, the beginning of their plan to break me.
"The Fiona who listened to you is dead," I whispered, looking at my reflection.
I didn't cry this time. Instead, I dressed in black and headed into the night to find the only man Bradley feared-the lethal, "boiling-blooded" Regent, Demian Ballard. I was going to save his life, and in return, he was going to help me burn the palace down. Bound To The Ruthless Wall Street Butcher
Modern I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling’s hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him.
Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur—Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"—and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils.
I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past.
I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison.
We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase.
"Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to." His Discarded Wife Was The Real Boss
Mafia I spent fifteen years building my husband's mafia empire, coding the complex algorithms that washed his blood money clean.
But on my thirty-fifth birthday, instead of a gift, I received a photo of his hand resting on another woman's thigh.
When I confronted him, Dustin didn't apologize. He brought his pregnant mistress, Jami, into our penthouse and told me to accept the hush money.
"You have nothing except what I give you," he sneered, treating me like a slow servant rather than the mastermind behind his success.
The argument turned violent. He shoved me hard, sending me crashing into a solid oak nightstand.
As I lay on the floor, bleeding and dizzy from a split forehead, I watched the man I loved step over my body to comfort the woman wearing my mother's stolen heirloom ring.
He didn't check my pulse. He didn't call for help. He looked at me with pure disgust and turned his back.
In that moment, the wife died, and the witness was born.
He thought I was powerless because I had no assets in my name. He thought I would fade away quietly.
He forgot one crucial detail: I wasn't just the furniture in his castle. I was the architect.
Every server, every encrypted drive, every hidden account—I owned the code.
I wiped the blood from my face and walked out the door, but I didn't go to a lawyer.
I went to a hardware store and bought a ten-pound sledgehammer.
I wasn't going to just leave him.
I was going to delete him. His Fatal Love, Her Bitter End
Romance My billionaire husband spent three years and a fortune to find a donor heart to save my life. He was my hero, my entire world after a woman named Karma Smith framed my father and destroyed my family.
Then, I discovered he'd been protecting her all along. She was his mistress, pregnant with his child.
Overnight, I became the villain in his eyes. He ignored my calls for help as her thugs beat me and dragged me behind their car. He forced me to kneel in the snow all night as punishment for the miscarriage she faked and blamed on me.
The final act of his cruelty was a sea burial for the "baby" I had "murdered." On his yacht, he held her in his arms, his eyes burning with a hatred that seared my soul.
When she "accidentally" dropped the urn into the ocean, he turned his rage on me.
"Then you'll jump in and find it!" he roared.
I looked at the monster who wore my husband's face, the man I had loved more than life itself.
And without hesitation, I threw myself into the icy water. His Humiliation, Her Freedom
Young Adult For seven years, I lived in Liam Sterling' s shadow, meticulously crafting his academic success.
Tonight, at our graduation party, he stood on stage, arm around his new girlfriend, Skye Miller, and publicly humiliated me.
He announced they were going to Northwood Community College, then suggested I come along, sneering, "You know you can' t manage without me telling you what to do. It' s for the best."
Murmurs and snickers filled the room.
"His lapdog."
"He owns her."
Humiliation burned my cheeks, but this time, something snapped.
The suffocating feeling that had always compelled my obedience vanished.
All the years of silent suffering exploded into rage.
When Liam, unaccustomed to resistance, tried to order me around again, I looked him straight in the eye.
"No," I said, my voice clear and loud for the first time.
His face reddened, but I wasn' t done.
"I' m not going to community college with you, Liam. I' m not going anywhere with you."
His control shattered, Liam escalated.
He and Skye led a mob to my house, turning my sanctuary into a frat party.
They poured wine on my graduation dress, laughed at my humiliation, and when I saw my grandmother' s locket-a precious heirloom-around Skye' s neck, a piece of my soul was torn.
Liam had stolen it from my room and given it to her.
"It' s just a piece of cheap metal, Ava," he scoffed.
"It was my grandmother' s! It' s all I have left of her!" I cried, but he just said, "Get over it."
Then, Skye whispered to Liam about my college applications, suggesting he
destroy my future.
My heart pounded as he headed for my room, a cruel smile on his face.
No!
My future. My laptop.
He publicly deleted my Ivy League applications, replacing them with Northwood Vocational School, and submitted it.
Then, he smashed my laptop.
They dragged me to the basement, locking me in, knowing my deepest fear.
My world ended there, swallowed by darkness and their laughter.
But somewhere, a father was about to get a call, and Liam Sterling was about to learn a very painful lesson. When Silence Roared: A Mother's Escape
Romance My life was a constant struggle, cleaning up after Ethan, a musician with "the devil's blood" and a cruel wife, all while trying to save for my son Caleb's therapy.
But when Ethan bought his mistress a diamond bracelet with Caleb's therapy savings, then locked my terrified boy in a closet just for her amusement, I knew I was living in hell.
The real nightmare began when he dragged Caleb to the edge of a bottomless quarry, threatening to push him, making me believe he was about to murder our child.
Saved at the last moment by the Sheriff, Nathaniel, a man rumored to be the sworn enemy of Ethan's family, I thought I'd found sanctuary.
But my ex-husband's control, rooted in a terrifying blood pact, threatened to destroy us all, pulling every loved one into his spiral of sadism.
Even Nathaniel, my supposed savior, had his own dark secrets, revealed by a chilling recording on what was meant to be my wedding day.
His calm dismissal of my pain and his true motives shattered my last ounce of hope.
How could the man who rescued my son from the brink of death be using me as a pawn in his own twisted family game, willing to sacrifice my comfort and trust for his ambition?
Why did he send my child away right before our ceremony, claiming it was for "safety"?
I ripped off the wedding dress.
I wasn't just leaving that wedding; I was leaving behind every lie, every manipulation, and redefining what it meant to fight for my son and myself, no matter the cost, no matter the man. The Billionaire's Blizzard Bait
Horror I lived a life of enviable luxury in my pristine Colorado mountain cabin, nestled deep in the Rockies.
Then, I died, frozen solid just outside my own front door.
My last sight was Ethan, my boyfriend, feasting on my food inside, watching me claw at the glass until my fingers bled.
His family, the Scotts, laughed as I froze, adjusting curtains to block me out, celebrating my demise.
They left me to perish in the brutal blizzard, utterly and completely abandoned.
That death was absolute, excruciating, and unforgettable.
But then, I jolted awake, submerged in 1200-thread-count sheets, the Rockies bathed in sunlight outside my window.
It was ten days before the storm, before my betrayal.
A wave of nausea hit me, the phantom hunger and cold still clinging to my bones, but then a cold, hard fury replaced it.
This time, my cabin, my wealth, and my meticulous planning wouldn' t be my downfall; they would be my ultimate weapon. When the Script Flipped
Young Adult My senior year was supposed to be the start of everything.
My award-winning screenplay, "Echo Park", had captivated a young producer named David, and my dream film school, USC, was within reach.
But then, everything shattered.
My SAT scores inexplicably plummeted, a disaster that strangely coincided with my best friend, Olivia's, perfect score.
A year later, Olivia's mysteriously acclaimed screenplay, almost identical to mine, landed her the very deal David had offered me.
Every ambition, every relationship, everything I cherished, she systematically stole, leaving me in a devastating spiral of depression that ended in an accidental overdose.
As darkness consumed me, a terrifying truth slammed into my consciousness: Olivia, clutching a shimmering "Script Switcher," used it to rewrite my fate, three times over.
How could my closest friend harbor such monstrous envy, possessing a magical device that allowed her to meticulously dismantle my entire life?
Now, I'm back.
Reborn on the exact day my downfall began, but this time with a chilling certainty and a ruthless plan.
Olivia may still have her notorious Switcher, but I have the memories of a life lost and a cold resolve to make her steal nothing but my most spectacular failures. Beyond Forgiveness: The Vanderbilt Fall
Romance I was eight months pregnant, suffocating inside a gilded cage for ten long years.
My marriage to Ethan Vanderbilt was nothing but a cold, calculated transaction.
His family paid for my little brother Leo's experimental, life-saving medicine, and in return, I endured Ethan's endless parade of mistresses and his cruel, dismissive taunts.
My only flicker of hope, a fragile, dangerous thing in that house, was the life growing inside me.
Then, a blinding flash of red on the road.
A blaring horn too late.
Tiffany Hayes, Ethan' s latest social media darling, caused the crash.
I fumbled for my phone, fingers slick with something warm, gasping his name: "Ethan, accident! The baby..."
His voice was cold, impatient, as Tiffany's giggle echoed in the background: "Don't be such an attention-seeker."
He hung up.
In the sterile hospital room, amidst the quiet hum of machines, the doctor' s words were a death knell: "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Vanderbilt. The baby… he didn't make it. Stillborn."
My world shattered into a million pieces.
Then, my phone rang again, pulling me deeper into the abyss.
It was Dr. Ramirez.
Due to Ethan's malicious disruption of payments, Leo' s condition had deteriorated rapidly.
"He passed away an hour ago, Sarah."
My brother. My son. Both gone.
Numbness, a heavy blanket, descended.
But then, a video message buzzed on my phone: Ethan and Tiffany, hours after the accident, laughing, kissing.
"Sarah? She's probably just milking it for sympathy," Ethan slurred from the screen.
The casual cruelty of it, the utter, monstrous indifference, curdled my grief into bitter resolve.
How could any man be so devoid of a soul?
How could a lifetime of sacrifice end in such devastating, calculated malice?
That night, something inside me broke free.
My baby would be buried in the Vanderbilt plot as was his right.
But Leo?
His ashes would come home with me.
I wasn't just escaping a marriage.
I was reclaiming my very soul, leaving the ashes of a destroyed life behind. The Scapegoat Heiress: Havenwood's Reckoning
Modern I clutched the USB drive, halfway to Havenwood's town hall, rehearsing the speech that would expose GlobalCorp's ruthless fracking operation and save our community.
Suddenly, the ground bucked violently, an unnatural tremor that tore through the town, confirming my worst fears.
Before the dust could even settle, Mrs. Henderson's shriek pierced the din, echoing across the shattered town square:
"It's her! Sarah Miller! She did this!"
My adoptive father, the Mayor, looked at me with dawning horror, not for my safety, but for his failing reputation, while my brother Ethan's expression solidified into something cold and unrecognizable.
Even Mark, my Mark, the boy who'd promised me forever, was already by Veronica Hayes's side, his arm protectively around her, refusing to meet my desperate gaze.
They twisted my desperate attempt to force an investigation into GlobalCorp's inherently flawed safety equipment into an act of "eco-terrorism," blaming me for the town's destruction and even framing me for a beloved librarian's tragic death.
The angry mob surged, so my own family shoved me towards the outskirts, leaving me no choice but to flee Havenwood, branded its monster, its ungrateful scapegoat.
How could they so easily believe I, who had tirelessly tried to protect them, was capable of such malevolent destruction, completely ignoring the crucial proof I held in my hand?
For months, I existed in the shadows, a ghost haunted by the bitter taste of betrayal and the crushing agony of a truth no one would hear, my life utterly destroyed.
But a reclusive, Pulitzer-winning journalist, Alistair Finch, found me and called a fateful town hall meeting, promising to finally reveal Havenwood's full, devastating truth.
Tonight, I, Sarah Miller, the one they cast out and branded a traitor, will finally return, not as a broken fugitive, but ready to expose the real villain and reclaim my story as the defiant heir to the formidable Vance Justice Foundation. Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: My Life Without You
Romance My engagement party, the culmination of five years poured into Ethan Cartwright and our future, was supposed to be my fairy tale.
But hiding on the terrace, his voice, cold and dismissive, echoed through the night: "Sarah? She's perfect.
Adorably naive, utterly devoted.
She won't rock the boat.
Won't challenge me.
And she certainly won't interfere with Isabelle."
The words hit like stones, shattering my world and sending me tumbling into darkness.
I woke up with amnesia, the doctor explaining recent memories were gone – Ethan's name meant nothing.
But this man, a stranger, kept pushing me, forcing me into public appearances purely for his convenience.
At his gala, his actual lover, Isabelle, deliberately pushed me down a grand staircase.
I learned later that fall cost me a baby I never knew I carried – *his* baby.
Yet, he showed zero concern.
Instead, Ethan demanded I issue a public apology for "attacking" Isabelle, threatening to annul our engagement on grounds of mental instability and destroy my family's business if I refused.
A man I couldn't even remember was trying to ruin my life, dismissing my pain and accusing me of deceit.
The amnesia, meant as a curse, became my liberation.
Looking into his empty eyes, I finally spoke, my voice steady: "This is the last thing I will ever do for you.
Consider our ties severed."
I walked away, leaving behind a life I could no longer remember, eager for a new beginning in Chicago with someone whose warmth offered a fragile promise – Noah Evans. The Agent in the Dark
Billionaires My sister, Lily, was dying.
Leukemia, rare and aggressive.
Only an experimental bone marrow transplant could save her, costing seventy-five thousand dollars.
Insurance called it "experimental," so they wouldn't cover it.
I worked double shifts at the grimy diner, counting every dollar of my meager tips.
It was never enough for Lily.
Then Jess, my flashy old high school friend, showed up.
She had an "unconventional" job, she said, with "huge pay."
A vigil for a dying man, Adam Blackwood, a wealthy recluse in rural Louisiana.
They needed a "pure-hearted young woman," a virgin, to perform "comforting rites" for his soul's passage.
And a "discreet examination" afterwards, to confirm my "commitment."
One hundred thousand dollars. More than enough for Lily.
Despite a creeping unease, Lily’s pale face flashed in my mind.
I took the thirty thousand upfront, let Jess drive me to the massive, gothic plantation.
Mr. Blackwood was cold, Mrs. Blackwood tearfully obsessed with my "purity."
They immediately took my phone, locking me alone in a dimly lit room with "Adam."
He lay still, impossibly sedated, his breathing shallow, his pupils constricted pinpoints.
He wasn't dying naturally. He was being drugged.
The chilling truth slammed into me: this wasn't a ritual.
The "pure-hearted" vigil? A calculated farce.
"Adam" wasn't dying of illness; he was being systematically poisoned.
And he wasn't Adam Blackwood at all.
He was Ben Carter, an FBI agent, deep undercover in an antiquities smuggling ring.
I was the perfect scapegoat, framed to take the fall for his impending "death."
Jess, my friend, had sold me out, a willing accomplice in their deadly deception.
Trapped, utterly betrayed, and staring down a dangerous criminal conspiracy, Lily's money no longer mattered.
Now, it was about survival.
I had to save Ben, expose the Blackwoods, and fight my way out of a nightmare. You might like
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. 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." 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. Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon
Rum Runner I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate.
The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed.
The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent.
He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to.
I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire?
As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time.
"Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival.
"But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head."
I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground. The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
Luo Ye For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist.
The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite."
When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome.
I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out.
But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy.
I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake. 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!" The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife
Meng Xinyu I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert.
In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe.
The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious.
When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune.
Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal.
They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking.
They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor.
To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight.
He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom.
He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months.
"The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit.
"But don't expect me to be your maid." Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen
Stella Montgomery Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her.
On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back.
Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city.
Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him.
"I'm sorry. Please give me another chance."
She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married." 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!" 
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