He Chose The Maid Over The Heiress

A Wife's Vengeful Art

The invitation glowed on my phone, Chloe Davis beaming next to my husband, Mark. Her caption hit me like a punch: "So proud to unveil my latest installation, 'Maternal Instincts.' A huge thanks to my muse and patron, Mark Peterson." Mark. My Mark. Smiling a smile I hadn' t seen directed at me since before Leo was born. 'Maternal Instincts.' Chloe knew nothing about being a mother. She only knew about destroying one. My son, Leo. My baby. He was gone. And there she was, twisting a word that belonged to me and my son, for her ugly art. I drove to her gallery, the cold night air doing nothing to wake me from the fog I lived in. She opened the door, a slow smile spreading across her face when she saw me. "Sarah. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her voice was smooth, like honey mixed with poison. Inside, her "masterpiece" stood on a stark white pedestal: a collection of jagged, broken gray shapes, cemented together. It was cold and ugly. "It's about the pieces of a life," Chloe purred, theatrical. "How a mother's love can shatter... Mark found it incredibly moving." Then, the final blow: "He says I capture raw emotion so much better than you ever did. He said your work was always too… perfect. Too clean. No soul." Every word a calculated strike. Not just as a wife, but as an artist, as a person with a soul. My world, already cracked, began to splinter. I saw the sculpting knife on her workbench. Cold and heavy in my hand, it felt real. Solid. For the first time in months, I felt a sharp, clear purpose. I pressed the tip against my wrist. I just wanted the noise in my head to stop. Pushed down. A thin line of red appeared, bright and shocking. It didn' t hurt. It was just a release. Then, Chloe' s shriek: "Oh my god! What are you doing? You're getting blood on the floor!" She rushed, not to me, but to grab a rag. "Are you insane? This is a polished concrete floor! It's going to stain!" Her words barely registered as the world tilted and went fuzzy. The last thing I heard was her calling Mark: "Your wife is making a scene." I woke in a hospital room. Mark stood over me, his face a mask of fury. "What the hell was that, Sarah? Humiliating me in front of Chloe? At her big opening? Do you have any idea how that makes me look?" He spoke in a low hiss, silencing my attempts to explain. "Just don't. I can't deal with this right now. I have to go back and help Chloe clean up your mess." He turned to leave as a doctor, kind-looking, walked in. "Mr. Peterson? I'm Dr. Albright. I need to speak with you about your wife." Mark sighed, a long, suffering sound. "She's fine. Dramatic. Needs a sedative or something." Dr. Albright' s voice was firm. "Your wife is not being dramatic, Mr. Peterson. She is suffering from severe postpartum depression, complicated by profound grief. She is a danger to herself." A flood of relief washed over me. Someone saw it. Someone believed me. But Mark just laughed, a cold, ugly sound. "Postpartum depression? That's ridiculous. The baby's been gone for months. This is just Sarah being Sarah. She's seeking attention. She needs to grow up." He looked at me with contempt. "A psychiatric hold? Don't be absurd. I'm her husband. I'm taking her home." Dr. Albright stood her ground. "Mr. Peterson, I am advising you in the strongest possible terms against that. Your wife admitted she wanted to die. Taking her home without professional intervention would be medically negligent." Mark' s face hardened. He leaned into the doctor, his voice a menacing whisper. "Are you calling me a negligent husband? My wife is emotional. She says things she doesn't mean. I know how to handle her. We're leaving." He turned on me. "Get your things. We're going. You've caused enough trouble for one night." The flicker of hope died. To him, my pain was an inconvenience. An embarrassment. I was utterly alone with it. Then, the door creaked open. Emily. My best friend. She rushed to me, holding me tight. A raw sob tore from my throat, full of months of pain and fear. "Oh, Sarah," she murmured, her voice thick. "Mark's assistant called him… Chloe… she posted something. I knew." "It's not your fault," I choked out. "It's me. I'm broken, Em." "No!" she said fiercely. "You're not broken. You're sick. I've seen this coming. Ever since Leo…" The mention of his name hung heavy. Ever since Leo was born, I' d been sinking. The sleepless nights, his crying, mine, the overwhelming feeling. A darkness. A fog that wouldn't lift. Mark waved me off. "All new moms are tired." Then Leo died. SIDS, they said. The fog became a suffocating blackness. A gaping hole Mark filled with Chloe. "I'm not living, Em," I whispered, looking at my bandaged wrist. "I'm just… waiting. I don't know how to do this anymore." "Then we'll figure it out," Emily squeezed my hand. "You're not alone. I won't let you be." But as Mark' s car horn honked impatiently outside, I wondered if even her love would be enough. My prison warden was waiting. He thought he could lock me away in the perfect glass house. But he couldn't imprison a woman who had already decided she was going to die. A woman with a plan.

Love's Resurrection, A Deadly Game

My butcher shop smelled of iron and chilled meat, a clean, sharp scent I' d known my whole life. Most people in this small town saw me, Lisa, as the butcher with the pretty face and strange eyes. They whispered, but I didn' t care. Whispers don' t pay the bills, but a new client' s offer of twenty thousand dollars as a deposit for an "Underworld Matchmaker" job certainly did. Two hundred thousand more upon completion. It was enough to change my life. The job: perform a ritual for her supposedly deceased son, Alexander Dubois, to secure his family' s spiritual line and fortune. But then I saw the photo. My stomach dropped. It was Alex, the man who' d vanished from my life five years ago, the struggling artist I' d once loved. Yet, the death certificate listed him as Alexander Dubois, with a different birthdate. His eyes in the photo, full of that familiar charming light, stared back at me, shattering my world. This wasn' t just a high-paying job; it was a trap. The woman who claimed to be his mother was entangled in a web of lies. I knew, with chilling certainty, that the spirit I was summoned to match was not just "resistant"-it was alive. They weren't asking me to perform a ritual for the dead; they were trying to make me an accomplice to murder. My heart pounded furiously. This was no longer just about money or old traditions. This was about Alex, about unraveling the truth, and about surviving the deadly game the Dubois family was playing right into my grandmother' s special plan.

Broken Promises, Unbreakable Will

I poured my heart and genius into building InnovateTech, a billion-dollar empire, and into building Liam, the man I loved, my co-founder and fiancé. Then my cousin, Sarah, came weeping to my door, seeking refuge, and shattered everything. I walked into our penthouse, planning a surprise anniversary dinner, only to find Sarah in my silk robe, in Liam' s arms, in our bed. The shock was a physical demolition, leaving a vacuum where my heart used to be. Every memory, every promise, every dream turned to ash as I heard their laughter. Humiliated, betrayed, and with nothing left to lose, I made a desperate, wild choice: I would marry the reclusive billionaire, Mark, a man rumored to be a "freak," to save my family and myself. Liam confronted me, his face twisted with disbelief and rage. "You' re marrying Mark? The city' s freak? Are you insane?" he spat. I looked at him, feeling nothing but a vast, cold emptiness, the pain having burned away into steel. "Yes," I said, my voice steady. "I am." He saw a stranger, a loyal subject who had walked away, and in that moment, I knew I had made the right choice.

The Discarded Daughter's Rise

Christmas morning should have been filled with joy, but for me, it was the day my hard work, my straight-A report card, was ripped to shreds by my father. Instead of comfort, my own paternal grandmother slapped me, calling me a "bad omen" just like my mother, Brenda. My mother, a paralegal who valued appearances, had vanished weeks prior, only for divorce papers to appear. Soon after, my father dumped me at a bus station, tossing a few crumpled bills and driving off, telling me not to call him, even in an emergency. Hours passed, the cold seeping into my bones, every hopeful car not hers, until finally, it was my Grandma Rose who saved me, wrapping me in a hug that smelled of cinnamon and soap. But the truth soon crushed me: my mother hadn't wanted me, and my grandmother, with her meager social security, had to invent "gifts from your mom" to keep my hope alive. Just when I thought I had a haven, Brenda reappeared, engaged to a wealthy businessman, dragging me back into her world of superficiality and ridicule. Life with them became a new hell, culminating in a public slap from my mother for making her "look bad" and finally, being thrown out onto the street with nothing but a small bag. I walked for miles, desperate to get back to Grandma Rose, the only person who had ever truly loved me. And then, just weeks before my SATs, she collapsed, needing an expensive surgery my parents coldly refused to fund, forcing me to sacrifice my future for her. She passed, leaving me heartbroken, but also with a cold, clear rage burning inside me. When my mother brazenly reappeared after Grandma' s funeral, complaining about the "inconvenience" of her death and scoffing at my efforts, something inside me snapped. I was done being a victim. I stood up, my voice dangerously quiet, and told her to get out, but not before she paid what she owed me. I sued both my parents for years of neglect, studied relentlessly, and when I emerged as the state's top SAT scorer, exposing their hypocrisy to the world. Years later, as a successful investment banker, I faced them again, broken and desperate for money, and coolly repeated their own words back: "That's not my problem." Now, holding my daughter, Rose, a child I chose to have on my own terms, I realized I had not only broken the cycle but built a new legacy of unconditional love.

The Wine Cellar Wife

I was nine months pregnant with twins, and my doctor gravely told me I needed an emergency C-section due to a life-threatening complication. My Hamptons mansion, built on the legacy of my husband Ethan' s old-money family, felt like a safe haven, especially after I saved his life from an F4 tornado. But as I drove home to tell him, I saw her car, Chloe' s sleek black Mercedes, parked outside. Chloe, his high school sweetheart, the "one that got away," had returned, claiming a fragile heart condition, and within moments, my urgent medical need was dismissed as "drama." Ethan, blinded by Chloe' s theatrics, accused me of seeking attention and brutally shoved me into the soundproof wine cellar, locking me in for three days to "teach me a lesson." Trapped and alone, my body began to fail, suffering a catastrophic uterine rupture as I fought to save our babies. My first twin, a tiny boy, was born still, lifeless in my arms, and then came the terrifying silence of my second child, lost before even drawing a breath. I bled to death on that cold, damp floor, clutching my stillborn son, realizing the man I loved had used my strength, my very resilience, to kill me. Three days later, my husband and his mistress were celebrating their engagement, completely unaware of the horror I endured, until my doctor, Marcus Vance, walked in, armed with the coroner's report and Chloe' s real medical history, ready to expose the truth to the entire Hamptons elite and the world.

The Royalty Trap: How I Beat My Killer Brother

My brother, Derek, stood smirking by our dying father' s bed, demanding the records. He thought he was outsmarting me, believing they held the map to the fortune I' d made in my first life. I just shrugged, letting him snatch what he believed was the jackpot, while I "foolishly" accepted our dilapidated, lien-ridden house. He gloated, flashing his new sports car, convinced he was a millionaire. Meanwhile, debt collectors were banging on my door, threatening to seize the property Derek thought was worthless anyway. He laughed in my face, bragging about the fake demo tapes he'd dug up and sold for a fortune. I knew he was about to crash and burn, just like last time. But the injustice still burned. In my first life, his greed and jealousy didn' t just ruin him; they led him to murder me in cold blood. I remembered every detail, every agonizing second of his betrayal. But this time, I wasn't the naive fool. This time, I' d come prepared. Because when I opened my eyes again, waking up right here, at Dad's bedside, I knew exactly what was coming – and exactly what I needed to do.

The Forgotten Mother's Vow: Taking Back What's Hers

Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.

Invisible To Her Bully

Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible. Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully. During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin. As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah. Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies? Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside.

The Sword Of My Heart: Marrying A Phantom Tycoon

Everyone in town knew Amelia had chased Jaxton for years, even etching his initials on her skin. When malicious rumors swarmed, he merely straightened his cuff links and ordered her to kneel before the woman he truly loved. Seething with realization, she slammed her engagement ring down on his desk and walked away. Not long after, she whispered "I do" to a billionaire, their wedding post crashing every feed. Panic cracked Jaxton. "She's using you to spite me," he spat. The billionaire just smiled. "Being her sword is my honor."

Free At Last, Untouchable Now

For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts. Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son. In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way. Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged. Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind. When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."

The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night

In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce." For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom. However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her. Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good. But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?

The Heiress' Secret: Ex-Husband, Meet The Real Me

For three years, Deanna endured scorn in a one-sided marriage. When Connor forced her to choose between her career and a divorce, she didn't hesitate-she walked away. Determined to reclaim her birthright, Deanna returned as the brilliant heiress to a medical conglomerate. Her ex and his family begged for another chance, but it was too late. With a tycoon father, a legendary healer mother, a CEO brother who adored her, and a showbiz powerhouse sibling, Deanna's life overflowed with power. Even her arrogant rival, heir to billions, only ever had a soft spot for her.