Puffin
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Puffin's Books and Stories
I Lost My Genius Surgeon Wife
Modern Justine abandoned her career as a top trauma surgeon to marry Congressman Carl McConnell. She did it to fulfill her dying sister's last wish: to protect her son, Leo, from this ruthless political family.
But the seven-year-old boy she swore to protect shoved her into a freezing koi pond, then cried to his father that Justine tried to drown him.
Carl didn't even check the security cameras. He hugged his precious heir and looked at his freezing wife with pure disgust.
"Are you out of your mind? Trying to hurt the heir to the McConnell family!"
He locked Justine in a 55-degree wine cellar while she was burning with a 102-degree fever. When she finally told him the truth, Carl flew into a rage and hurled a heavy brass-cornered book at her face, slicing her cheekbone wide open.
His mother even ordered the staff to starve her for seven days to reflect on her sins.
Justine stood in the dark, blood dripping down her face, her heart completely dead. She had sacrificed her brilliant future and her pride for this family, only to be tortured and discarded like garbage. How could they be so utterly devoid of humanity?
She pulled out her old medical kit and stitched up her own face.
Then, she signed the legal documents to permanently relinquish her stepparent rights, threw them at the housekeeper, and calmly looked at her abusive husband.
"I am divorcing you, Carl." 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
Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. 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!" Bound To The Disabled Apocalyptic Tycoon
Star Cruiser Jessie's biological parents brought her back from a Rust Belt wasteland just to force her into marrying a paralyzed heir to save their bankrupt empire.
Three years later, when the global doomsday apocalypse hit, her own family shoved her into a swarm of infected corpses.
As she was being torn apart by mutated hounds, she was stunned by what she saw.
Her fake sister, Harley, was clutching the antique silver necklace she had stolen from Jessie—an heirloom that secretly contained a magical spatial dimension.
When the infected swarmed them, her biological mother didn't even look back.
"Jessie is just white trash, she is perfectly suited to buy us time to run!"
Harley used Jessie's stolen necklace to live in absolute safety and luxury, while Jessie's windpipe was ripped out in the rotting wasteland.
Until she died, Jessie didn't understand. She was their true flesh and blood.
Why did her parents hate her so much? Why was she sacrificed so easily while the fake daughter got everything?
Opening her eyes again, the blinding glare of a crystal chandelier stabbed into her retinas.
She was back in the Manhattan penthouse on the exact day they sold her off.
This time, Jessie calmly signed the marriage contract, demanded a one hundred million dollar buyout, and walked out to prepare for the apocalypse. 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!" Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. The Jilted Ex-Wife Is A Zillionaire
Felix Turner Isabel returned to her penthouse after a grueling seventeen-hour flight, only to be greeted by the cloying scent of another woman's perfume.
Her husband of three years, Darius, sat waiting with divorce papers. He wanted to marry his mistress, Dove, and offered Isabel a measly one million dollars, treating her like a greedy charity case from the Rust Belt who should just take the payout and vanish.
But Isabel didn't want his pity. She demanded the four percent equity stake in his family's company that she rightfully owned—a stake worth 1.5 billion dollars. When she revealed this, the wealthy family turned vicious. They refused to acknowledge that she had secretly saved their empire from bankruptcy years ago. Instead, Darius and Dove orchestrated a brutal public execution. They ambushed her at a top law firm, spreading malicious lies that her investment money was stolen from a Ponzi scheme. They even hired a fake victim to scream at her in the lobby, successfully terrifying Isabel's lawyer into dropping her case on the spot.
She had quietly rescued their entire legacy, yet they were willing to frame her as a criminal and destroy her life just to keep her rightful billions.
As Darius and his mistress gloated over her absolute ruin, the most ruthless and feared lawyer in New York suddenly stepped in front of Isabel, his voice cutting through the dead silence.
"Your case, I'll take it." Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
王舒 When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." 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. 
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