Puffin
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Puffin's Books and Stories
Woke Up Married To The Ruthless Heir
Billionaires I woke up naked in a luxury Manhattan hotel next to a breathtaking stranger after a blackout night of drinking.
Before I could sneak out, he caught me and demanded I marry him to take responsibility for his "lost innocence."
When I refused, he slammed a massive stack of legal files on the table, threatening to frame me for corporate espionage and bankrupt my parents within a week if I didn't sign the marriage papers.
Forced into a shotgun wedding at City Hall, he then dragged me to my parents' house. I prayed my strict father would protect me, but the stranger easily brainwashed them with rare gifts and by secretly dismissing my dad's IRS audit.
"You are acting like a spoiled child. You find a man this exceptional, and you want to push him away?" my dad barked.
My own parents had completely sold me out to a clinical psychopath, leaving me trapped and utterly isolated.
I was suffocating in anger and terror. I didn't even know his real name, let alone why a man with such terrifying, untouchable power would go to such psychotic lengths to cage a broke diner waitress.
Refusing to be his submissive pawn, I put on my red lipstick and dragged him to the most exclusive jewelry flagship store on Fifth Avenue.
"I want to see your vault items. The most expensive things in this building," I demanded.
I was going to rack up a bill so astronomically high that it would shatter his facade and force him to break this nightmare engagement. Too Late To Beg: The Scapegoat's Revenge
Mafia In my previous life, I spent every waking moment cleaning up the messes of Dante Moretti, the heir to the Chicago Outfit.
I dragged him away from drugs and strippers just so he wouldn't miss his Initiation Ceremony.
Because of my loyalty, he became a Made Man.
But a year later, when he needed a scapegoat for his own incompetence, he didn't thank me.
He framed me for being a rat.
I was forced to watch my parents executed in front of me before I was thrown into a freezing solitary cell to rot.
The last thing I felt was the biting cold leeching the life from my body while he continued to live like a king.
I died realizing my love was just a weapon he used against me.
But when I blinked, the suffocating darkness dissolved into blinding strobe lights.
I was back in the club.
It was the night before his Initiation.
Dante stood in front of me, high and arrogant, demanding his car keys so he could go see a stripper named Roxy instead of preparing for his oath.
In the past, I begged him to stay. I saved his reputation.
This time, I looked at the man who murdered me and felt nothing but ice.
I pressed the keys into his hand.
"Go," I said, condemning him to his own destruction.
"Have the night of your life, Dante." Caught In His Web of Manipulation
Modern My genius boyfriend, Colten, was my savior. I was the "slow" girl he single-handedly tutored into NYU. He built my entire academic future, and I thought our love story was a fairytale.
But after I found another woman's birth control pills in his bag and caught him in lie after lie with his lab partner, Addisyn, I finally left him. The price was brutal: I failed every class and faced expulsion.
Desperate to save myself, I went back. I played the part of his sweet, obedient girlfriend, using his tutoring to ace my retake exams while secretly planning my escape to a new program.
The day my transfer was approved, he ambushed me with a public proposal. In front of a cheering crowd, he got on one knee with a diamond ring, ready to trap me in his perfect life forever.
"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice full of triumph.
But before I could answer, a different woman stepped forward. It was Addisyn, and her hand was resting on her pregnant belly. Rejected for the Omega: The Alpha's Regret
Werewolf To the outside world, I was the envy of every she-wolf as the fiancée of Alpha Kael. But inside the gilded cage of his pack house, I was a ghost.
I molded myself into perfection for him, wearing the colors he liked and suppressing my own voice.
Until I walked past his study and saw him with Lyra—the orphan he called his "sister."
His hand rested intimately on her thigh as he laughed, telling her, "Elara is just a political necessity. You are the moon in my sky."
My heart shattered, but the physical blow came days later.
During a training exercise, the safety cable snapped. I fell twenty feet, shattering my leg.
Lying in the dirt, gasping through the pain, I watched my Fated Mate run.
Not to me.
He ran to Lyra, who was burying her face in his chest, feigning terror. He comforted her while I bled.
Later, in the infirmary, I heard him whisper to her, "She won't die. It will just teach her who the real Luna is."
He knew. He knew she had sabotaged the rope with silver, and he was protecting her attempted murder.
The final thread of my love incinerated into ash.
The next morning, I walked into the Council Hall, threw a thick file on the table, and looked the Elders in the eye.
"I am dissolving the engagement," I stated coldly. "And I am withdrawing my family's silver supply. I will starve this Pack until you beg."
Kael laughed, thinking I was bluffing. He didn't notice the lethal Beta from the rival pack standing in the shadows behind me, ready to help me burn Kael's kingdom to the ground. Married For Convenience, Loved In Death
Romance "Liam, let's get a divorce."
I said the words calmly, five years into being the perfect corporate wife to Liam Hayes, a man who married me for convenience, never love.
My life, carefully constructed on a transactional foundation, shattered when his high school sweetheart, Chloe Miller, returned, not just to reclaim her place in his life, but to tear down mine.
He publicly humiliated me at a charity gala, on a brightly lit stage in front of hundreds, announcing that our entire marriage was merely "a business arrangement."
He branded me a manipulative, jealous monster, accusing me of hiring thugs to attack Chloe, showcasing staged security footage as "proof."
The crowd stared, whispered, and judged, turning me into a national punchline, the "mistake" he was "correcting," while he embraced Chloe as his "true love."
Every eye in the ballroom burned with disgust, and my heart hammered with a raw mixture of shock, betrayal, and a deep, agonizing injustice.
I looked at him, across the sea of judging faces, and finally understood: there was nothing left to fight for, no trust to salvage.
"So, you want a divorce, Liam?" I asked, my voice steady, my decision made.
His cold, firm "Yes" was the final nail, but it was also my liberation; I would walk away, with everything I had secretly built, and leave his twisted world behind. His Lies, Our Undying Love
Billionaires My mother' s last breath was a promise from a man whose name was a myth: Mr. Sterling, my father.
He was supposed to take me in, but instead, I found myself an intruder in a mansion of glass and cold stone, an unwelcome "charity case" to the perfect, privileged twins, Olivia and Liam.
They treated me with disdain, their silent hostility a constant pressure, and at school, the whispers started.
"Chloe Sterling, the illegitimate daughter."
When Tiffany and her cronies began to torment me, physically and emotionally, I was utterly alone, abandoned by the very family I' d been sacrificed to.
Hope shattered, I thought I was nothing but collateral damage, a problem to disappear.
But in my deepest despair, they appeared – Olivia and Liam – no longer my tormentors but furious protectors, wielding a startling truth: my father wasn' t just cold, he was a monster who had crushed their dreams and stolen their inheritance.
Stripped bare, broken, they looked at me, an outsider with nothing left to lose, and whispered, "You have to be our weapon."
And in that moment, the ghost of a girl faded, replaced by a fierce resolve: I would dismantle his empire from within, not just for myself, but for the family he had tried to destroy. Rebuilding Life, Far Away
Romance The first thing Ava noticed on her fifth wedding anniversary was the suffocating silence, a stark contrast to the candlelit dinner she'd envisioned with Ethan.
Instead, he stood by the window, his back to her, and when he finally turned, his face was a mask of cold stone. He told her they weren' t going to their anniversary dinner.
On the table lay two stacks of paper: divorce papers, already signed by him, and a heavy, cream-colored envelope containing a wedding invitation-for her, to marry her childhood friend Liam. The words hit her with the force of a physical blow.
"I don't understand," she whispered, her hands trembling. How could he possibly believe she was in love with Liam, her best friend, who was simply a constant, steady presence in her life? He even showed her an Instagram post of their honeymoon, declaring her love for Ethan, as if to mock her oblivion.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. But as Ethan walked away, leaving behind the shattered sound of pottery from his studio, a cold dread settled in her stomach. Someone had put this idea in his head. Someone had done this to them, and Ava was about to find out who. My Coyote, My Vendetta
Mafia The static-laced call from Matthew was a punch to the gut.
He was my partner, my 'boyfriend,' and he was supposedly captured by El Martillo’s cartel.
He demanded I bring half a million dollars, alone, to a remote warehouse, promising it was the only way to save him.
I threw protocol out the window, raced through the Arizona heat, and walked into that dusty, desolate building, ready to face a cartel for him.
But Matthew wasn't tied up or bruised.
He was perfectly fine, and he took the money I’d risked my life for, handing it to El Martillo’s enforcer.
Then, with a chillingly calm voice, he pointed at me and said, "And here’s a bonus for El Martillo.
She’s a top-tier artist.
Now let me go."
The world tilted.
My partner, the man I thought I loved, had sold me out.
Before I could process the betrayal, his fist connected with my face, a brutal blow that knocked me to the ground.
El Martillo’s men closed in, ready for a "welcome party" that meant my agonizing end.
As their boots slammed into me, I saw a familiar tattoo on one of their necks—a coyote.
My coyote.
A design only one other person should know in such detail.
Hope, sharp and desperate, cut through the pain.
This wasn't the end.
This was the beginning of my real mission. My Sweet DC Life: A World Away From Him
Romance My world ended with a Dropbox link, a preview of what I thought was our wedding reel, a montage of the perfect love story Andrew and I had built from our foster home days to City Hall.
Instead, I found professional, high-resolution photos of Andrew with Molly Chavez, his intern, posing as the ideal political power couple, his hand possessively on her back, her face beaming at his side.
When Molly called, feigning an apology for a "mix-up," I heard Andrew' s voice in the background, clear as day: "She won't do anything. She needs me and this life."
That devastating line shattered me, making all his dismissals and forgotten promises click, revealing I was just a discarded relic of his past, not his partner.
But the Gabrielle he knew, the one who meekly accepted his condescension and believed she needed him, died right then; I picked up my phone, not to call him, but to call my lawyer, ready to draw up divorce papers, effective immediately. No More Tears for Him
Romance Five years ago, I gave everything – my dreams, my health, every last penny – to save the man I loved from a fatal heart condition.
I scrubbed pots on double shifts, my hands raw, convinced I was putting my love on the path to recovery.
But his fiancée, Jennifer, had other plans.
She showed him doctored photos, whispered lies, and made it seem like I was selling my body, not my soul, for him.
He believed her instantly, threw the money back in my face, and walked away, spitting that I deserved to rot.
Now, five years later, those words are a cold prophecy: my kidneys are failing, I have six months to live.
As I stumbled out of the free clinic, dizzy and broken, I saw him again-Ethan Scott, now a superstar music producer, stepping out of a luxury car with Jennifer, her hand protectively over a pregnant belly.
They were heading into the exclusive private hospital next door, a world away from my despair.
My body chose that moment to betray me; I collapsed, scattering my pills and medical records on the dirty sidewalk.
He stared down at me, his eyes colder than any winter, then watched as Jennifer ground her heel into my hand and had my lifeline swept into a trash can.
He even threw a crumpled twenty-dollar bill at my feet, declaring I was worth less than a donation to an animal shelter.
How could he believe such monstrous lies?
How could he, the man I sacrificed everything for, be so utterly blind to the truth of what I endured for him?
What secret did Jennifer hold over him that made him choose her cruel deception over the life-saving act I committed? The Five Hundred Thousand Dollar Lie
Romance Three years of playing my guitar until my fingers bled, enduring stale smoke and leering eyes in a Vegas lounge.
It was all for him, my fiancé Jax, to pay off a $500,000 debt that threatened his family's legacy.
Finally, the "contract" was fulfilled, the debt paid, and I was on my way home, dreaming of our reunion.
But when I reached our old apartment, it was empty, a foreclosure notice taped to the door.
Panic clawed at my throat as his phone went straight to voicemail, over and over.
Then, a notification from a music blog changed everything, showing Jax, my fiancé, beaming with Savannah Monroe at a high-profile Nashville party.
The caption: "Nashville's new power couple, Jax Thorne and Savannah Monroe, celebrate their groundbreaking merger."
My phone clattered to the dusty floor, my mind unable to grasp the words.
I stumbled to the penthouse address listed, only to overhear their voices dripping with casual cruelty.
"She'd do anything for me," Jax bragged, his voice cold, "Pure profit."
Savannah's syrupy drawl followed, "The loan shark? Seriously? You hired an out-of-work actor from Memphis."
My blood ran cold as the truth hit me: the debt, the loan shark, the three years of hell-all a lie, a twisted game orchestrated by the man I loved.
"Revenge," Jax hissed, "Her father stole a hit song from my dad. Ruined him. Drove him to suicide. I wanted her to feel what it was like to have everything taken away."
My entire life, my sacrifice, my love-it was all a setup, a cruel, elaborate joke.
His father was a jealous drunk, a gambler, and the 'stolen song' was a generous gift, not a theft.
I was a pawn in a revenge plot based on a lie, completely broken, with nothing left.
But as I stood there in the Nashville sun, clutching a small, crumpled piece of paper-a mysterious number for "a true emergency"-a desperate, fluttering hope ignited.
I had never used it.
With trembling hands, I dialed.
"Rothschild, private office."
The name echoed in my mind, a legend.
"I... I need to speak to Marcus Rothschild," I whispered, "It's an emergency." When Love Turns to Vengeance
Romance My marriage to Mark seemed solid, our life comfortable, until his college reunion.
I was there as the supportive wife, trying to ignore a growing unease.
Then I saw him, too close to Jessica, his high school sweetheart and now his sister-in-law.
The "Ten-Year Love Blueprint" he' d detailed for her-not me-was just the first blow.
That night, I found Jessica kissing my drunk husband in our home, then overheard the devastating truth: her son, Kevin, was Mark' s, not his brother' s.
My perfectly constructed life imploded as Mark dismissed my pain and his mother furiously defended his affair.
A reckless car crash, caused by Jessica, led to my miscarriage; Mark, shockingly, blamed me, then his mother coldly announced, "You weren't strong enough."
Even my own parents, dependent on Mark's generous support, disowned me for daring to expose his betrayal.
Abandoned and broken, the injustice was crushing: how could everyone I loved betray me so completely, leaving me a disposable substitute in a life that was never truly mine?
The agony of losing everything, especially my baby, felt unbearable.
But a fateful accident unexpectedly offered a dark opportunity for ultimate escape and rebirth, transforming me into a vengeful phantom armed with a meticulous plan for absolute justice. From Jilted Fiancée to President's Enforcer
Modern The champagne flute felt colder than the ballroom air at my lavish engagement party to Senator Ethan Prescott, D.C.'s golden boy.
In my first life, this night had been a triumph.
But tonight, Isabella Vance, Ethan' s mistress, brazenly crashed the party, heavily pregnant and dramatically announcing, "Ethan, this baby is yours."
Chaos swallowed the room; cameras flashed, but I felt a chilling calm.
In my previous life, this betrayal had led to my career' s ruin, a faked scandal, and a lonely "accident" – Ethan and Izzy' s masterpiece of destruction.
Back then, I was broken; now, I simply placed my flute down and announced, clear-eyed and cold, "Our engagement is over."
They continued their facade, building a new narrative and trying to publicly shame me at a White House State Dinner.
Ethan mocked me, Izzy sneered at my simple dress, and their cronies tried to have me escorted out, believing I was a pathetic ghost from their past.
They thought I was weak, a broken woman clinging to the fringes of their brilliant new lives.
Every condescending word, every dismissive glance, was a fresh wound, a reminder of the injustice that had cost me everything.
Did they truly think I'd just vanish?
My heart, once shattered, was now a block of ice, focused solely on retribution.
This time, I was no one's pawn.
Just as they tried to completely discredit me, President Thompson himself appeared, announcing my true status as his "most trusted advisor," shielding me with the full weight of his office.
My father's legacy, my own history saving the President's life, suddenly became my indisputable shield and sword.
The real game had just begun. Thorne's Penance, Elara's Triumph
Romance I once believed Reverend Thorne was my savior.
Found freezing in the remote Alabama woods at five, abandoned by my own cruel mother, he offered me a home, a fragile hope within the church orphanage.
But that hope shattered when, at eighteen, he learned of my innocent affection.
Fearing scandal, he sent me on a deadly mission, deep into the dangerous Ozark Mountains-a place guarded by hostile hermits. He knew it was a death sentence.
I died a brutal death, but my spirit lingered, unseen.
I watched as he dismissed my murder, slandered my memory, and even married my cruel half-sister, Seraphina.
My very essence was erased, my final desperate pleas unheard, my ghost cast out as "evil." Every shred of dignity, every memory of kindness, was crushed.
How could a man I idolized, who once offered salvation, betray me so utterly? Why was my tormentor allowed triumph while I faded into oblivion?
But then, a chilling miracle: I awoke, a child once more, with every agonizing memory intact.
The same frozen woods, the same false savior offering his hand.
This time, I ran.
This time, I refuse to be a victim.
My second life begins now, and this time, I choose my own path to healing, love, and a justice far sweeter than revenge. You might like
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." The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Zi Ya The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." From Prison Cell To Billionaire's Target
Jv Lingxian The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend.
I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken.
As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut.
My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath.
I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart.
How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie?
After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding. Pampered By The Ruthless Tycoon Guardian
Julian Reid Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box.
She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her.
The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death.
"This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm.
Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer.
How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her.
Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind.
"Poison! She's trying to kill me!"
Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist. 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. Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire
TESS WHITE I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart.
But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage.
When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway.
He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop.
At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me.
They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond.
When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue.
"Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?"
He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests.
Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died.
To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg.
I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival.
It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground. His Accidental Cure: The Runaway Contract Wife
Norrra I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger.
I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year.
When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread.
I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong.
My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed.
She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker.
But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep.
I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death.
How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own?
I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down. His Unwanted Wife: The Genius's Spectacular Comeback
Lan Zixin For seven years, I was the perfect wife to Denny Sanford and the brilliant CTO who built the core technology of his billion-dollar empire.
But at my brother-in-law's memorial service, I hid behind a velvet curtain in the study and caught my husband passionately kissing the grieving widow, Brittany.
They weren't just having an affair. Brittany was pregnant with Denny's child.
"Once the paternity test confirms the baby is a Sanford heir, we control everything," she whispered.
"Christa is brilliant with data, but clueless with people. She's completely harmless," Denny sneered, dismissing me as a convenient tool.
My world shattered. Under his protection, Brittany had already stolen the credit and millions of dollars in consulting fees for my patents. To maintain his perfect facade, Denny even abandoned our six-year-old daughter's championship to hold his mistress's hand through a fake hospital visit.
I had sacrificed my days and nights to build his company, only to realize my entire marriage was a calculated lie designed to fund his second family. He thought my scientific detachment made me blind, stupid, and weak.
Harmless? I smiled coldly in the dark, backed up every server log proving my intellectual property, and messaged the most ruthless divorce attorney in New York. If he wanted to build his future on stolen data, I would show him exactly how a scientist dismantles a flawed experiment. No Heir For The Cheating Billionaire
Marnie Nomura Hadley married into the Jacobson family, a ruthless Wall Street empire. Her prenuptial agreement was absolute: she wouldn't touch a penny of the family wealth until she produced an heir.
But one rainy night, she used a copied keycard to enter a secret Tribeca penthouse, only to find her husband tangled in bed with a famous actress.
When she slapped the divorce papers in front of him, Cleveland didn't apologize.
"The party who files walks away with nothing. You will die in this position."
He tore the documents to pieces. To protect his flawless public image, he forced Hadley to attend family galas, smirking coldly while his grandfather publicly humiliated her for her "barren" stomach. When Hadley finally fought back and confronted his mistress, Cleveland snapped. With a single phone call, he froze her bank accounts, revoked her access to their home, and left her stranded in a cold parking garage.
She had given up her independence for a man who treated her like a useless breeding machine. He thought he could erase three years of her life in an instant, confident that his money made him invincible.
But Cleveland didn't know she was holding the ultimate weapon to destroy his precious legacy. As he received a frantic call about his mistress and rushed to his SUV, Hadley finally screamed the agonizing secret she had hidden for years.
"I can't give you an heir! It's over!"
Watching his taillights disappear into the dark, Hadley prepared to burn his empire to the ground. Flash Marriage To The Secret Billionaire
William Jafferson My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger.
During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience.
I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants.
My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure.
Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn.
Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery.
"Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever.
I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined. 
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