Lunacy
16 Published Stories
Lunacy's Books and Stories
Reborn Heiress: The CEO's Lethal Obsession
Romance Aria's stepsister Blair handed her a bottle of sleeping pills, convincing her to fake a suicide attempt to finally escape her obsessive, tyrannical fiancé, Julian.
But as Aria lay paralyzed on a freezing unfinished rooftop, Blair sneered and injected her with a lethal, untraceable synthetic poison.
Blair didn't just want to break the engagement. She wanted Aria dead to steal her twenty percent stake in the Carlisle Group.
To completely break her spirit, Blair shoved a phone in her face showing a live news report.
"He was coming for you. Took a route too low, too fast."
Julian's helicopter had crashed into the East River in a fiery explosion while he was desperately rushing to save her.
As the freezing poison stopped her heart, Aria finally understood. Julian's suffocating control wasn't about ownership-it was a desperate, clumsy attempt to protect her from her venomous family.
And she had fought him, hated him, and played right into her killers' hands.
Why was her life only worth a fraction of company shares? Why did she realize who truly loved her only when they were both dead?
A primal wish exploded in her soul: if she had just one more chance, she would make them pay in blood.
Opening her eyes again, Aria found herself back in Julian's penthouse, exactly five years ago.
It was the very day she had swallowed the pills.
Hearing Julian's frantic, furious footsteps approaching the bedroom, this time, she didn't scream or run.
Instead, she threw her arms around the "monster's" neck, ready to use the most powerful man in New York to tear her family apart. Hidden Heir: Destroying My Arrogant Stepfather
Mafia My mother divorced my father, the ruthless Don of the Mafia, to give us a peaceful, normal life.
She married Victor, a man who presented himself as the perfect, harmless civilian husband.
But the moment they tied the knot, Victor manipulated her into exiling me to a boarding school dorm.
He took over my bedroom for his own son and secretly dismissed me as just a "dumb teenager."
What my mother didn't know was that her new husband was a desperate rat drowning in cartel debt.
He quickly drained her life savings and secretly added his name to our estate's deed, planning to mortgage our home to the underworld.
When I refused to let him use my name for his schemes, my mother blindly defended him.
"He is your stepfather, show some respect!"
I had to stand by and watch this parasite track dirt across my life and steal the very roof that once protected us.
He thought I was just an easy obstacle, a helpless kid he could easily trample on to save his own skin.
But he forgot whose blood runs in my veins.
I stepped out into the cold wind and pulled out my encrypted burner phone.
I dialed the man whose mere name is enough to keep the city's police chief awake at night.
"Dad," I said to the Boss of the Cosa Nostra.
"It is time." Substitute Marriage: My Lethal Comatose Husband
Horror At seven years old, I hid in a closet and watched a man stab my mother to death before setting the room on fire. I survived, changed my name, and spent fifteen years hiding in a rundown garage behind a hideous, fake red birthmark.
My fragile peace shattered when my biological father, Declan Thorne, suddenly tracked me down. He didn't come to save me from poverty, but to sell me.
He and my half-sisters forced me to marry Sterling Montgomery, a wealthy heir who had been in a coma for six months. They needed my "ugly, bastard" status to unlock a massive trust fund, fully expecting me to spend the rest of my life rotting beside a dying corpse. They laughed at my cheap clothes and disfigured face, locking me in a room to ensure I wouldn't ruin their payday.
"You have no right to refuse. I gave you life. This is how you pay me back."
They thought I was just a terrified, pathetic pawn they could easily control. They didn't know I was the sole disciple of an underground medical genius, and I had deliberately let them sell me to use the Montgomery family's impenetrable fortress as my shield.
When I finally stood alone in the medical wing, I checked my comatose husband's pulse, only to realize his failing vitals were entirely faked. As I reached out to rip off his oxygen mask, the "dying" man suddenly shot up from the bed, his hand clamping around my throat with lethal force. My Cheating Ex Regrets Losing The Heiress
Modern For years, Elvera lived as the despised charity case in the cramped Wright household.
When she caught her foster sister Donita straddling her fiancé, they didn't even panic. Instead, they loudly framed Elvera for stealing a diamond necklace to justify kicking her out.
Her foster parents immediately sided with the cheaters, screaming at her to pack her trash and starve in the gutters. Only her dying foster brother tried to sneak her his medical savings, but the family violently shoved him away, mocking him as a walking corpse.
Standing in the freezing Brooklyn wind, Donita and Crockett followed her outside just to laugh. They waved a crisp twenty-dollar bill in her face, mocking her biological family as a bunch of unemployed street thugs.
They really thought she was going to freeze to death on the pavement with nothing but a faded backpack.
But then a roaring, matte-black supercar pulled up.
The man who stepped out wasn't a street thug; he was her real brother, an FBI task force commander.
He effortlessly snapped Crockett's shoulder out of its socket, put Elvera in the passenger seat, and drove her straight to a sprawling billionaire estate in the Hamptons.
Sitting by the fire in her biological parents' palace, watching them casually display an eight-million-dollar sculpture she had secretly designed, the head butler suddenly walked in.
"Sir, the fake heiress has returned from Europe."
Elvera took a slow sip of her coffee. The real game was finally about to begin. Spectacular Comeback Of The Neglected Heiress
Modern Alya Harrell was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy Long Island family, treated worse than a stray dog in her own home. Tonight, her family finally found a use for her.
Her stepmother and half-sister, Chloe, forced her into a scandalous, plunging red dress. They were offering her as a bargaining chip to Warren Thorne, a ruthless, sleazy hedge fund manager known for collecting and discarding young girls.
Just to ensure her absolute humiliation, Chloe intentionally "tripped" and spilled a glass of red wine all over the silk dress.
"Now you'll have to wear that hideous little black thing you own," Chloe sneered, leaving Alya to face the high-society dinner looking like a beggar.
When Alya tried to escape Thorne's groping hands, her own father hunted her down. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back, and raised his hand to strike her for embarrassing the family.
She was nothing but a pawn to them, a cheap product to be sold and abused for their financial gain. Alya's heart turned cold as she realized her blood relatives would gladly destroy her just to secure a lucrative business deal.
But when she was sent to the cellar to fetch a $50,000 vintage wine for their billionaire VIP guest, Alya caught her perfect sister hooking up with a personal trainer next to the priceless bottle.
Quietly stealing the vintage wine and burying it in the garden dirt, Alya returned to the ballroom with a dangerous smile.
"I think I saw Chloe carrying a bottle down to the cellar," she told her furious father and the VIP, leading them straight toward the trap that would completely ruin her sister's perfect life. Reborn From Fire: The Ex-wife's Revenge
Mafia Heidi gripped the sterile hospital bedsheets as violent contractions ripped her body apart.
The heavy door opened, but it wasn't the doctor. It was Brigette, wearing the exact custom wedding dress Heidi had spent six months designing for herself.
Brigette held up her phone on speaker. When the doctor warned that a natural delivery would kill the mother, Christian Page's voice echoed through the room, ice-cold and devoid of any warmth.
"Prioritize the Page heirs. Let her die."
The man she loved had just signed her death warrant over the phone.
Brigette stole her newborn twins, dragged her to an abandoned warehouse, and poured gasoline over her bare legs.
Flicking a lit cigar into the puddle, Brigette left Heidi tied to an iron pillar to burn alive.
But as the flames formed a deadly circle around her, Heidi's body convulsed with a terrifying truth.
In the heart of the blazing inferno, she miraculously gave birth to two more babies she didn't know she was carrying.
Using her own back as a human shield against the falling embers, she survived the fire, but the ultimate betrayal burned deeper than her ruined skin.
Four years later, Heidi returned to New York with a reconstructed face, two brilliant children, and a terrifying new identity as the world's top underground surgeon.
When Christian, entirely unaware of who she was, signed a waiver begging her to save his dying grandfather's life, Heidi looked into his desperate eyes with absolute, clinical boredom.
"The game starts now," she said coldly. My Millions, His Parasitic Family
Billionaires I'm a neurosurgeon making over half a million dollars a month. I support my husband, an army captain, and his entire parasitic family. After I saved them from financial ruin with a $5 million check, I planned the ultimate family vacation to Monaco—private jet, chartered yacht, all on my dime.
The night before we left, my husband announced his ex-girlfriend, Dahlia, was coming.
He had already given her my seat on the private jet I paid for. My new ticket? A commercial flight with a layover in a war zone. "Dahlia is delicate," he explained. "You're strong."
His family agreed, fawning over her while I stood there, invisible. His sister even whispered to Dahlia, "I wish you were my real sister-in-law."
That night, I found Dahlia in my bed, wearing my silk nightgown. When I went for her, my husband threw his arms around Dahlia, shielding her from me.
The next morning, as punishment for my "behavior," he ordered me to load their mountain of luggage into the motorcade. I smiled. "Of course." Then I walked into my office and made a call. "Yes, I have a large quantity of contaminated material," I told the hazardous waste disposal service. "I need it all incinerated." Reborn, Redeemed, and Unbothered
Romance I woke up with a pounding headache and a man I didn't recognize sleeping next to me-Liam Hayes, the man I' d loved for years, only to realize he' d mistaken me for his ex-girlfriend, Bethany. It was a cruel echo of a past life I was desperately trying to escape.
He stirred, calling out her name, and then his eyes landed on me. The warmth vanished, replaced by cold indifference. He nonchalantly offered to marry me, stating it was only for his grandmother and that his love belonged to someone else.
In my last life, I said yes. I let him use me, tolerate me, and ultimately ruin my family for Bethany. He abandoned me on a stormy night, leading to a car crash that killed me and our unborn twins. But now, I was back, reborn in that very hotel room, at the precipice of ruin.
I calmly told him nothing happened, that he was drunk and I had merely fallen asleep on the couch. He snarled, refusing to believe me, pulling away the towel I wore to reveal bruises he' d inflicted, accusing me of drugging him. Just then, Bethany's video call flashed on his phone, and he instantly cast me aside, his voice soft and loving for her.
He threw my dress at me, ordering me out. Later, when I was packing my things, he taunted me, then made elaborate plans to send chicken noodle soup via private jet to Bethany in Europe, while I, his supposed fiancée, couldn't even get a glass of water. It was then that the last piece of my old heart turned to dust.
The very next day, my parents, beaming, presented me with a penthouse key, convinced Liam and I would finally marry. My mother' s hand flew to her chest when I told them I no longer loved Liam, just as his call came in. He ordered me to take birth control pills, then sarcastically dismissed the designer bag he'd once given me. I simply replied, "That bag is old. You can just throw it away." Mrs. Sterling, Look, He truly Dotes On Her
Romance My husband, Liam Sterling, once held me like a fragile, precious thing.
Three years into our marriage, his touch turned to ice.
He led Chloe Miller, the interior designer he now obsessed over, into our home.
Today was her wedding day, a cruel game to force his hand.
On my knees in a rust-scented warehouse, Liam' s gentle fingers stroked my neck.
He smiled, but glacial eyes demanded Chloe' s wedding address.
I pleaded, "I don' t know where her wedding is, Liam. She' s setting me up. She' s lying."
He sneered, "Chloe was right, as usual. You' re just jealous of her."
Then he brought out my brother, Ben, bound and gagged.
Five snarling Dobermans lunged, their barks hungry.
Liam whispered, his lips brushing my cheek, "If you don' t give me the wedding location, your brother will have a little 'playdate' with the Dobermans."
His words were a cold knife, cutting deeper than any physical pain.
A dog' s claw dug into Ben' s shoulder, tearing skin, drawing blood.
His muffled cry tore through me.
I begged, "Please, let my brother go! Take it out on me instead, Liam!"
His face darkened, grip tightening on my chin.
"Tell me, where is Chloe getting married?"
He had forgotten everything we were.
The man who swore to protect me now found cruel amusement in my agony.
This wasn' t the first sign.
Subtle perfumes, a whispered name in passion, then seeing him kiss her in the rain.
He' d even told me, casually, "I' m keeping her. She entertains me. Men in our circle all do this."
I tracked down Chloe' s abusive ex, hoping to end this nightmare.
But she was smarter.
She turned it into a scheme that branded me as the villain, telling Liam I paid her ex to marry her.
And he believed her.
When his assistant burst in with Chloe' s wedding location, Liam' s rage shifted.
He ordered, "Help Mrs. Sterling back to her room."
And as they dragged me away, I heard Ben' s whimpers, saw the Dobermans tear at him.
Liam' s indifferent words echoed, "Honey, you know I can' t bear to punish you, so your brother will have to take the punishment for you."
My world went black.
Something snapped inside me.
When I awoke in the hospital, Ben was alive, but mangled.
"I can' t let you get hurt for me anymore. I have to leave him!" I cried.
Ben sighed, "The world is vast, Ava, but the Sterling family is vastest."
But I had a plan now, a secret escape clause in our marriage agreement.
In ten days, Liam Sterling and I would never see each other again. The Assistant’s Escape: From Abuse to Love
Romance "Ethan, why the sudden resignation? You're heading to Norway?" the HR manager asked. I was Sarah Jenkins's longest-serving, most loyal assistant, but I had no reason to stay anymore.
A bitter smile touched my lips as I remembered how I had been tricked into a marriage seven years ago with Sarah, who used me as a stand-in for her ex, David. Now, she was pregnant and needed a husband.
I found them at "The Gilded Lily," Sarah tending to David's injury, her face full of adoration. I was invisible, a servant, bringing clothes for David. Even my son, Leo, saw it. He looked at their linked hands, hurt flickering in his eyes.
That night, Leo, my son, whispered, "This is the 97th time Mom has made me sad. Three more times. When it gets to 100, we'll leave Mom and never come back." My heart ached. Sarah had promised to celebrate his birthday, but she was flaunting her relationship with David on social media.
When she came home, reeking of alcohol, she shoved a toy at me. "This is for Leo." It was the one she'd forgotten. A wave of frustration washed over me. "Let's get a divorce." She stared at me, then curled her lips into a mocking smile. "Can you and your son survive without me?"
The next day, I handed her the divorce papers. She signed them without looking, her mind on an international call. I hated her condescending gestures, the expensive suits she bought me that were meant for someone like David.
"I can give you a marriage, I can give you money, but you can't hope for my love. I hope you always remember your place." Her words sliced my heart. What right did I have to be upset? I was just the assistant, the stand-in husband.
At a family dinner, her mother constantly compared me and my son to David and his son, Lucas. Lucas, a spoiled brat, then falsely accused Leo of hitting him with a fork. Before I could defend Leo, Sarah slapped our son. "Still lying!" My eyes burned red. How could she?
The world went silent. Leo, his cheek red and swollen, looked at her, his soft voice filled with defiance. "I hate you. I don't have a mom like you!" My heart shattered. She had given birth to him, but she had never raised him. She only knew how to hurt him.
"You're disgusting, disgusting, disgusting!" I roared, grabbing Leo's hand, ignoring Sarah. She tried to grab me, but I pulled away. "David is still waiting for you." She let go, her eyes darting to him. My heart turned to ice. She chose him again.
I leaned down to Leo, "How about we go to Norway tonight?" He nodded, his gaze firm. "Okay." This was it. There was nothing left for me here. I packed our bags, buried a box of old memories, and placed the signed divorce papers on the table.
Then, I texted her: "100." Moments later, she replied, "What?" My face impassive, I typed back: "My son and I gave you 100 chances to hurt us. Today was your 100th time." No more. My son and I were flying into the night, leaving her, and our past, behind. Drowning In Betrayal, Rising Stronger
Romance The first thing I felt was water in my lungs, then nothing. Now, I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head throbbing, with three years of my life mysteriously wiped clean.
My father explained it away as an "accident," a fall into a lake, but the icy demeanor of my supposedly devoted bodyguard, Liam, and the saccharine sweetness masking venom from my stepsister, Brittany, painted a disturbing picture. "You valued him," my father said of Liam, confirming my worst suspicions about a past I couldn't recall, yet instinctively recoiled from.
The "caring" nurse, the dismissive father, the subtly cruel stepsister-they all confirmed a horrifying truth: I was the obsessed, pathetic fool in a one-sided romance. This betrayal was cemented when Brittany, in a staged "accident," showered Liam with attention, and he, without a moment' s hesitation, left me in my hospital bed to comfort her, his "concern" for her a stark contrast to his disdain for me.
Why had my past self been so blind? What dark secrets lay buried in those missing three years that made me cling to a man who despised me and a family that clearly harbored ill will? The humiliation burned hotter than any fever.
But in that cold realization, a new resolve was forged. The pathetic Chloe was gone, drowned in that lake. With a click, I deleted Liam' s picture and contact from my phone. My amnesia was not a curse; it was a clean slate, and I vowed to reclaim my life and burn down the world of those who had wronged me. His Test, Her Sacrifice
Modern My sister Sarah' s last message was a cold, digital money transfer.
"Chloe, take this money. Pay off Liam' s debts and live a good life. I' m tainted now, I can' t live and drag you down."
No goodbye. Just a command and a confession.
I knew where she would go-the bridge.
I ran, but I was too late.
A single shoe, hers, lay by the railing.
Everything went silent.
I found Liam at a high-end restaurant, laughing with another woman.
"Ashley has passed my test," he announced.
"I' ll propose to her in three days. She' s good enough to be a stand-in for my late fiancée."
A test. My sister' s dignity shattered for a test.
Her body sold for a test.
Her life, thrown away from a bridge, for a test.
The money on my phone burned, her sacrifice for a lie.
Then, she was just a "dirty whore," and I was the "pure" replacement.
He wanted me to wear his dead fiancée' s symbol and marry him.
But on our wedding day, I had a surprise for Liam Sterling.
I wouldn' t be his perfect doll.
I would be her vengeance. Unwanted No More: The Heiress's Ultimate Escape
Modern My biological parents, the Duncans, finally threw me out, discarding me like trash onto the wet Chicago pavement.
Minutes later, trapped in a kidnapper's van, I heard my own brother Andrew on speaker, coldly telling them to do whatever they wanted with me – they didn't care.
Stella, the perfect daughter they raised in my place, even chimed in with fake sympathy, reinforcing their blatant disregard for my life.
I survived the kidnapping, even a stabbing where I saved a stranger, only for Andrew to accuse me of faking it all for attention and sympathy while still demanding I return to their gilded cage.
Why did my own family hate me so much, even choosing to let me die repeatedly, while showering affection on a girl who clearly manipulated them?
I jumped into Lake Michigan, not to end my life, but to escape their suffocating lies and build a new one, free from the ghost of Jocelyn Chavez. Soul Swap Protocol: A Husband's Revenge
Billionaires The day my wife, Jen, ghosted me was the day of my nephew's baptism.
I was supposed to be in San Diego, but instead, I was in Austin, staring at my phone, a cold dread creeping into my gut.
A notification popped up: an Instagram story from Jen showing her hand intertwined with a man' s, captioned, "Finally picking up where we left off. This time, I'm not letting go."
My custom 8-bit heart wedding ring, symbolizing everything we built, was gone from her finger.
It was Ethan Lester, her high school sweetheart, the washed-up football star now selling cars.
My furious comment on her post vanished, then her call came, her voice filled with a fury I didn't recognize.
"You're so toxic, Andrew!" she yelled. "You need to apologize. Not to me. To Ethan. He's my true love, and you've been nothing but a placeholder!"
Four years, my love, my work, reduced to a placeholder.
Later that night, the 'true love' showed up at my house, boasting about my wife being 'always his,' a smug parasite preying on her because he smelled our company's money.
He lunged at me with a pathetic punch, which I easily countered, pinning him face-down on my lawn.
Suddenly, a holographic interface shimmered before my eyes, revealing Ethan' s terrifying debt: maxed-out credit cards, delinquent auto loans, gambling debts, and an eviction notice.
He wasn't just a parasite; he was desperate, drowning, and our company was his life raft.
Then, a new glow appeared: "Designated Soul Swap Protocol Activated. Targets: Jennifer Hewitt, Ethan Lester. One-Time Opportunity. Execute? Y/N."
A cold, sharp clarity cut through my rage. This wasn't just a system; it was a solution, a way to show Jen exactly what her "true love" was made of, and I mentally selected 'Y.' When Love Died, Freedom Began
Romance The jagged glass bit into Amelia Hayes' s cheek.
"Help me," she choked into the phone, but her husband, Ethan Caldwell, snapped: "Amelia, for God' s sake, I' m in a meeting."
A sharp blow, then darkness.
She awoke not in her blood-slicked car, but in her opulent master bedroom, the calendar marking three months after her wedding. Three months into a marriage that had already begun to kill her.
Ethan stood by the window, his voice softening, "Yes, Jessica, tonight sounds perfect." Jessica Thorne, his true love, the shadow over Amelia' s first life. The familiar ache in Amelia' s chest gave way to a chilling, new fury.
For seven miserable years, she had given Ethan desperate, unyielding devotion.
She endured his coldness, his brazen affairs, his emotional abuse, all for a flicker of his attention.
She had become a shell, a caricature, ridiculed by Ethan' s circle and condescended to by his family.
The profound injustice, the sheer blindness of his indifference, was a bitter pill. Her heart, once broken, now felt nothing but a hollow echo of unrequited love.
Then, at a gala, a cruel act involving Eleanor' s ashes, and Ethan, without hesitation, shoved Amelia, his accusations echoing: "You are a disgrace."
He comforted Jessica while Amelia' s head reeled from the impact. That was the final straw.
No tears, no anger. Just a cold resolve. She delivered a small velvet box to his penthouse. Inside: the wedding ring and a divorce decree.
"I. Want. You. Out. Of. My. Life. Forever," she stated, her voice clear. She was reborn to be free. You might like
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. His Unwanted Wife Is A Tech Genius
Elroy Notman For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan.
But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead.
He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish.
"I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too."
Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family.
In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. The CEO's Regret: Chasing My Runaway Doctor
Ola Wilde Vivian was eight weeks pregnant, holding the warm ultrasound picture, ready to share the fragile secret with her billionaire husband, Sterling.
But before she could speak, he tossed a thick document onto the marble table: DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE.
"Kara's back," he stated coldly, referring to his childhood sweetheart. "I'm giving her the place she deserves."
He demanded she vacate the penthouse immediately, leaving with absolutely nothing.
She didn't cry or beg. She signed the papers, touched her flat stomach where his secret child grew, and walked out in her old trench coat.
She blocked his number, vanished from New York, and spent the next four years building a new life in Geneva as a top-tier surgeon, raising their twin boys entirely alone.
She thought she had finally escaped her past, until Sterling's bodyguards suddenly broke down her apartment door in the middle of the night.
He had used his immense wealth and power to force the "genius Dr. Vivian" to treat Kara's ruined uterus.
He was completely unaware that the masked, heavily accented doctor he was threatening was his discarded wife, or that his own flesh and blood were sleeping just down the hall.
Watching him desperately lavish a manipulative liar with the tenderness he had always denied her, the last thread of Vivian's lingering pain simply vanished.
She sent a single, encrypted text to a trusted friend.
"The boys are safe. I'm ready to start Phase Two."
She was done hiding. It was time to show him how a real war was fought. Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. Discarded Fiancée: The Ruthless Billionaire's Obsession
Ying Suhua I was supposed to be the lucky one, the bankrupt Beaumont heiress engaged to Devyn Langley, the golden boy of Boston's elite.
But the moment I landed from Europe, my best friend shoved a high-definition photo in my face. It was Devyn, tangled in white sheets with another woman.
I didn't cry. Instead, I planted hidden cameras in his secret Manhattan penthouse and heard the disgusting truth.
"When are you going to dump that boring bitch?" his mistress whined.
"Soon. As soon as her family's final trust fund payout clears. Then I'll toss her out like trash," Devyn laughed.
To add insult to injury, he removed me from the guest list of his family's charity gala.
When I showed up anyway, his mother pointed a shaking finger at my face in front of the entire upper crust.
"You are a charity case! A beggar! Get out!" she screamed, while Devyn demanded I get on my knees and apologize.
They paraded around like saints, using my family's tragedy for good PR while secretly plotting to steal my last penny and destroy me.
Did they really think I was just a weak, compliant fiancée who would quietly accept her ruin?
Wearing a blood-red dress, I hacked the ballroom's main screen and broadcasted his 4K sex tape to every billionaire and reporter in the room.
Then, I threw my five-carat ring at his chest and walked away with Kian Koch—the most terrifying man on Wall Street—leaving the Langley empire to burn. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.