His Perfect Lie, Her Vicious Truth

Too Late To Beg: My Cold Ex-Husband

On our ninth anniversary, my husband Dominick didn't toast to us. Instead, he rested his hand on his mistress's pregnant belly in front of the entire crime family. I was just a debt payment to him, a ghost in a forty-thousand-dollar gown. But the humiliation didn't end in the ballroom. When his mistress, Chastity, started hemorrhaging later that night, he didn't call an ambulance. He dragged me to the family clinic. He knew I had a serious heart condition. He knew a transfusion of that magnitude could trigger a fatal cardiac event. "She is carrying my son," he said, his eyes devoid of any humanity. "You will give her whatever she needs." I begged him. I bargained for my freedom. He lied and agreed, just to get the needle in my arm. As my dark red blood flowed through the tube to save the woman destroying my life, my chest tightened. The monitors began to scream. My heart was failing. "Mr. Reyes! She's crashing!" the doctor shouted. Dominick didn't even turn around. He walked out of the room to hold Chastity's hand, leaving me to die on the table. I survived, but Annis Myers died in that clinic. He thought I would return to the penthouse and continue being his obedient, silent wife. He thought he owned the blood in my veins. He was wrong. I went back to the penthouse one last time. I struck a match. I let the room burn. By the time Dominick realized I wasn't in the ashes, I was already on a plane to London. I had left my wedding ring in an envelope, along with the medical records that proved his cruelty. He wanted a war? I would give him one.

He Traded A Diamond For Cheap Glass

I was the "Ice Queen," the perfect Mafia wife who managed the De Luca empire's millions while my husband, Alessandro, played the part of the feared Underboss. I thought my silence and competence earned me respect. That was until I woke up in the estate's medical bay with a shattered leg. My saddle had snapped mid-jump. It wasn't wear and tear; it was sabotage. Lying in the dark, feigning sleep, I heard Alessandro whispering outside my door with his enforcer. "The buckle was filed down," the enforcer said urgently. "Aria tampered with it. She could have broken her neck." I waited for Alessandro’s rage. I waited for him to execute the mistress who tried to kill his wife. Instead, his voice was cold and dismissive. "Bury it," Alessandro ordered. "It’s just a broken leg. Aria was upset about the credit cards. She just wanted to teach Katarina a lesson." A lesson. My husband wasn't just cheating on me; he was protecting the woman who tried to cripple me. Three days later, at the Family Charity Gala, he humiliated me publicly. He outbid me for my grandmother's heirloom necklace and clasped it around Aria's neck while I watched from my wheelchair. He thought I was broken. He thought I was just a piece of furniture to be rearranged. He didn't know I had bugged the entire villa while I was recovering. He didn't know I had the recordings of what Aria was really doing when he wasn't looking. I gripped the USB drive in my pocket and signaled the tech team to lock the doors. The statue was broken, but he was about to learn that shattered ice is sharp enough to slit a throat.

Shamed by Design: The Heiress's Reckoning

My roasted turkey usually brings me joy, but this Thanksgiving, it turned my stomach. My stepsister, Brittany, had cornered my husband, Richard, and was practically living at our house. Knowing my daughter Sophie' s severe nut allergy, I carefully asked Brittany if her son, Leo, had any, before serving my pecan pie. "None at all, Amy. He loves nuts," she lied, smiling sweetly. Minutes later, Leo was gasping, turning blue. Richard rounded on me, his face a mask of fury. "You did this! You knew he couldn' t have nuts!" he roared, shoving pie into my mouth as the guests stared. The public humiliation was just the beginning. My home became a battleground, my husband a stranger. He dismissed my concerns about another nut-laced cookie, leading to our precious Sophie' s near-fatal allergic reaction. But instead of remorse, he jetted off to Aspen with Brittany and Leo, flaunting their "healing trip" on social media while Sophie lay in a hospital bed. Every tag, every beaming photo was a fresh stab, painting me as the villain, the negligent mother, the crazy ex-wife. I endured the whispers, the stares, the viral video portraying me as a monster. My world crumbled, and I felt utterly alone, trapped in a nightmare created by the very people who were supposed to love me. The injustice was unbearable. How could I have been so blind? How could they destroy me so easily? Then, when I was at my lowest, a miracle. My lawyer uncovered a massive, hidden trust fund – fifty million dollars my stepmother had stolen from me. That was when something inside me snapped. Tonight, at Richard' s award gala, they expect me to apologize, to publicly grovel. But I will not break. Tonight, I claim my freedom and burn their perfect lies to the ground. This isn' t an apology; it' s my reclamation.

The Cinderella Project: A Betrayal, A Fortune

I was just a diligent sales associate, trying to make ends meet in a luxury boutique on Rodeo Drive. After refusing a notoriously cruel socialite's outrageous demands, I was unexpectedly offered a breathtaking new life by charming billionaire Ethan Vanderbilt. No more retail hell, just endless luxury. I accepted, clinging to it as a desperate chance for my family to escape East LA's struggles. But then, a chilling message flashed on his unlocked phone: "How’s our little Cinderella project coming along, E? Is she suitably dazzled yet? Can’t wait for the one-year mark. Payback’s a bitch. ;)" My heart seized. The "fairy tale" wasn't a rescue; it was a cruel, elaborate game orchestrated by the very socialite I’d defied. I was the unwitting star of their 'Cinderella project,' a pawn meant to be adorned, built up, then publicly crushed. Every lavish gift, every forced laugh at their condescending jokes, every demeaning glance from their elite circle felt like a tightening chain. I was just their entertainment, watched by snickering socialites on a private 'countdown' account, cheering for my inevitable downfall. They thought I was easily manipulated, a poor girl blinded by glitz and glamor. How could they be so callously cruel, playing with someone’s entire future? But beneath the shock, a fierce defiance ignited. This wasn't just their bet; it was my fight for survival. A cold, determined smile touched my lips. Okay, Vanderbilts and Van der Woodsens. Let's play. I would use their money, their arrogance, their connections against them. By the time they realized what was happening, I wouldn't just survive their game; I'd build an empire on its ashes. My empire. My rules.

From Broken to Queen: The Rejected Luna's Rise

I shattered my knee jumping in front of a silver bullet meant for him. The poison seeped into my marrow, putting my wolf into a coma and leaving me crippled. I thought my sacrifice would secure his love forever. Instead, five years later, Brennan stood in a warehouse while a Rogue held a silver-laced dagger to my throat. Beside me sat Debbi, his mistress—a spy who had staged the whole kidnapping. "You can only save one," the kidnapper sneered. Brennan didn't even hesitate. He looked me in the eye, his gaze cold and devoid of the bond we once shared. "I choose Debbi," he said. He walked out with her in his arms, leaving his Fated Mate to bleed out on the concrete floor. As the blade dug into my skin, I felt the mate bond snap. He thought I died in the explosion that followed. He spent weeks howling in grief when he finally realized Debbi was a traitor and he had killed the only woman who truly loved him. But he was wrong. I didn't die. A federal agent pulled me from the fire, and the trauma didn't kill my wolf—it woke her up. A year later, Brennan walked into a small bistro in Italy, looking for redemption. He fell to his knees when he saw me standing there, healed and glowing with the aura of a White Wolf. "Alyssa," he wept, reaching for me. "I'm so sorry. I'll do anything." I looked him dead in the eye, my gaze icy blue. "Get out," I said. "We don't serve traitors here."

The Don's Regret: She Saved His Life

On our fifth anniversary, instead of a ring, I gave Elena a death sentence. I believed her father killed mine. So, I spent five years making her fall in love with me just to break her. I replaced her with Sofia, the woman I thought donated her kidney to save me. I stripped Elena of her dignity, forced her to crawl over hot coals, and locked her in a freezing cellar until her artificial heart gave out. She died alone in the mud, pulling the plug on her own life to escape me. It was only when I saw her body on the autopsy table that I found the truth. Sofia’s skin was flawless. It was Elena who had the scar. Elena gave me her kidney. Elena saved me while I destroyed her. Broken by the truth, I drove a knife into my own chest to join her in hell. But I didn't die. I woke up ten years in the past, back in high school. I thought God gave me a second chance to fix it. I saved her father. I cleared the path for our love. I walked toward her in the school courtyard, ready to be the hero she deserved. But she didn't look at me with love. She looked at me with absolute, freezing terror. I wasn't the only one who remembered the previous life.

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

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.

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret

My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine. Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family. To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset. They both thought I was a broken doll they could control. I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice. She sang it, and now her career is over. Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground.

Mated to The Quadruplet Bullies

Clocking 18, Suzie had just one thing in mind, to take revenge on everyone who has bullied her, including her father and the quadruplet brothers, one of them which she has given her entire heart only for him to shatter it. But hours before her shift, the goddess played a trick on her, mating her to the same brothers she desperately wanted to play with their lives. What would become of Suzie’s revenge especially now that the four brothers want to be with her? Even with their lives in danger, all they want is for their mate, whom they have tortured all this years to love and forgive them. Would this be possible for Suzie? Or would she turn a blind eye and watch their lives turn miserable? Find out.

His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.