Neglected Wife: Hidden Heiress's Cold Revenge

His Second Chance, Her Regret

I woke up in a hotel suite, still in my tuxedo, on my wedding day, October 12th, 2014. My fiancée, Sarah Jenkins, stood before me, her face pale, telling me to get out. The jarring part was that in my memory, Sarah was dead. She had died ten years later, throwing herself in front of me during a car crash, her last words a plea for me to "live well." This was our wedding day, ten years in the past, a second chance. I knew why I was here. I had spent a decade consumed by regret, forcing Sarah into a loveless marriage for a business deal. I later discovered her diary, filled with her true love for Mark Johnson, something she never had for me. After her death, I yearned to undo my mistakes. A locket, sold to me by a strange old man, promised a way to fix a great regret. Now, I was back. The voice from the locket echoed in my mind, "Her death is a fixed point. Unless her three great regrets are undone, the end will remain the same." I knew those regrets: not fighting for Mark, giving up her music, and Mark's car accident, which had happened a year into our miserable marriage. To start, I crossed my name off the marriage certificate and wrote Mark Johnson's in its place. Sarah's call came shortly after: Mark was in an accident. My blood ran cold, she accused me, "This is your fault! You did this!" She demanded I fix it because his rare blood type matched mine. Bleeding myself dry for her, I watched Sarah's rage turn to tearful accusation, "You did this, Ethan! So you're going to fix it!" I thought she understood my sacrifice for her and Mark's happiness. But as I collapsed from donating double the amount of blood, she screamed, "Cutting his brake lines... Ethan, that was monstrous!" She believed I was the one who sabotaged Mark's car. I had tried to save her, but instead, I became the villain. I chose to disappear from her life. The locket's work was done; I had erased her regrets. Now, only my own new life remained.

His Sister, His Choice: My Freedom

The gallery shimmered with color, a vibrant tribute to my son Leo's first year, his framed finger paintings and tiny plaster casts proudly displayed. My art, my life, my world. Today, I was a proud mother and a celebrated artist. Then the gallery door creaked open, and a cold draft swept in with Brenda, my husband' s sister, her eyes already searching for fault lines. "An entire party for a one-year-old? A little much, don' t you think, Sarah? Most people just do a cake and some balloons." The words cut, but the real sting came when she implied my "art" was just a desperate attempt to contribute financially. Mark, my husband, stood beside me, silent, his arm tightening in a gesture of restraint, not defense. The room grew heavy with unspoken judgment, our friends shifting in discomfort. Brenda, reveling in the awkwardness, then whispered loud enough for me to hear, insulting my post-baby body. My throat tightened, and I fought back tears. This was supposed to be a moment of joy, yet here I was, wounded again by someone who delighted in tearing me down. Later, as "Happy Birthday" filled the air, and Leo' s candle flickered, Brenda' s voice sliced through the sweetness: "I wish he grows up to look a little more like Mark. Right now, with that hair, he could be mistaken for the mailman' s kid." The insinuation was vile, stripping any innocence from the day. Something inside me snapped. "Get out," I said, my voice shaking with a rage I hadn' t known I possessed. But when Brenda feigned tears, my husband, Mark, sided with her. "Sarah, that' s enough," he said, his voice cold. "You are making a scene. Apologize to my sister right now." Apologize? His words hit me harder than any slap. He didn' t defend me; he condemned me. He chose his toxic sister over his family, over me. Was this the man I married? The father of my child? My marriage, my sense of security, crumbled into a lie. My pain didn' t matter; my dignity didn' t matter. Only keeping the peace with Brenda mattered, at my expense. As Linda, my gallery-owner friend, began politely ushering guests out, a horrifying clarity washed over me. I couldn't live a life where I always came second. I had to choose myself. I had to choose my son. The battle for my voice, my boundaries, and my future had just begun.

Unwanted Husband, Unwritten Future

A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head. I woke up in a stark white hospital room, not knowing where I was, or even who I was. Then they came-my adoptive parents, my wife Olivia, and my brother Liam. Instead of concern, their faces were etched with annoyance. They called me Ethan, but the name felt foreign. They spoke about me as if I were furniture, criticizing my "stunts" and how I always sought attention. Olivia, stunning and cold, entered, her eyes reflecting deep dislike. Liam softened instantly for her. Then Olivia spoke, revealing a devastating truth: "The CEO of Reed Tech' s husband tried to kill himself again. It' s humiliating." Worse, whispers from the hallway confirmed it: "She' s in love with his brother." I was married to a woman who despised me, living a pathetic life in a favored brother' s shadow. It was a life of begging for love that was never given. Panic started to build, but then a strange calm washed over me. The amnesia wasn' t a curse; it was a mercy. It was a blank slate, a chance to escape a prison I didn' t remember entering. They thought I was the same weak, desperate Ethan. They were wrong. I wasn't him anymore. I was no one. And I could become anyone. I made a decision, right there in that sterile room, surrounded by people who wished I didn't exist. I would grant them their wish. I reached for the phone. I didn' t call a friend. I called a lawyer. "I need to file for divorce," I said, my voice steady. "And I want to discuss severing ties with my adoptive family." A new chapter was about to begin.

Contract, Baby, And Billionaire

The cold screen of my phone cast a harsh glow on Olivia' s smug, made-up face-my art school rival-her latest post a candid, unflattering photo of me. Then, I saw the caption: "Some people will do anything for money. Here's Scarlet, a little fuller these days. Wonder if she finally landed a big fish. Or maybe it' s just a little goldfish she' s carrying?" The comments exploded, branding me a gold-digger, a woman using a baby to trap a man. Nausea churned in my stomach, not just morning sickness, but pure panic. Just as the world narrowed to the poison spreading online, a new notification flashed: a press release from the Sterling Corporation. My heart pounded as I clicked, expecting another blow. Instead, it was an announcement from the notoriously reclusive tech mogul, Liam Sterling: he confirmed he was the father of my unborn child and vowed legal action against any defamation. The world tilted. Liam Sterling? The legendary, untouchable genius from college? It was impossible. I had never even spoken to him. How could he be the father of a child conceived in a transaction with a nameless stranger in a dimly lit hotel room-a desperate mistake made to save my dying grandmother? It made no sense. The public shaming felt insignificant now, overshadowed by a terrifying reality: my quiet, desperate life had just collided with a world of unimaginable power. I was trapped, a pawn in a game I didn' t understand. I had signed a contract for survival, and now I was paying the ultimate price.

Her Billionaire Husband's Vengeance

The Boston Real Estate Awards gala was meant to be a triumph – a celebration of my hard-earned success as lead architect for a foundation rebuilding the city, a life I painstakingly built after leaving behind a toxic past. But then, across the glittering ballroom, I saw them: Matthew, my ex-fiancé, and Sabrina, my stepsister, his heavily pregnant wife, the golden couple whose lies once orchestrated my death and the loss of my unborn child. They spun their familiar, perfected tale to a reporter: my "public breakdown" in Vegas, the "male escorts," the "maxed-out credit cards" – a fabrication designed to paint me as unhinged, justifying why "our family had no choice but to cut her off." My heart pounded with a cold, familiar dread; this was the narrative that destroyed my first life, costing me everything, even before Matthew' s truck "accidentally" ran me off the road for my inheritance. But this time, when they sneered, offering me a job cleaning construction sites, mocking my presumed destitution, a calm resolve settled over me; my second chance wasn't about vengeance, but about finally living free.

Breaking the Prophecy

Oakhaven, Vermont, lives by a chilling prophecy: my deaf-mute mother, Martha, will speak only three times, her words bearing immense, unsettling weight. For years, she was just a quiet enigma, her silence another local quirk. Then, the unwritten rule shattered. My father died mysteriously after her first whispered "utterance." Five years later, just before my wedding, Martha whispered to my fiancé, Michael, and he barely escaped death in a bizarre "sleepwalking accident." Oakhaven erupted, screaming "Silent Curse." Reporters swarmed, turning our private grief into public spectacle. My mother retreated into an impenetrable silence, leaving me isolated, my world crumbling under the supposed curse. But I knew better. Dad never sleepwalked. Michael remembered nothing. My mother, though silent, harbored no malice. The official stories felt like flimsy lies. What truly happened? What did her "prophecies" really mean? Then, her desperate voice reached me: "Sarah... Pastor Thorne... He knows... Don't trust... the water... He...!" The line went dead. I found her, a suicide note and pills. But I knew. This wasn't a curse. This was a warning. And I would uncover the killer.

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

A Favor To My Boss

Emma had agreed to pretend to be her boss's girlfriend at an event where his ex-wife planned to show up with the guy she had cheated with. "We'll see how this turns out."

After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

The Curvy Ex-Wife's Revenge: The Divorce He Gave, The Regret He Earned

Nicole had entered marriage with Walter, a man who never returned her feelings, bound to him through an arrangement made by their families rather than by choice. Even so, she had held onto the quiet belief that time might soften his heart and that one day he would learn to love her. However, that day never came. Instead, he treated her with constant contempt, tearing her down with cruel words and dismissing her as fat and manipulative whenever it suited him. After two years of a cold and distant marriage, Walter demanded a divorce, delivering his decision in the most degrading manner he could manage. Stripped of her dignity and exhausted by the humiliation, Nicole agreed to her friend Brenda's plan to make him see what he had lost. The idea was simple but daring. She would use another man to prove that the woman Walter had mocked and insulted could still be desired by someone else. All they had to do was hire a gigolo. Patrick had endured one romantic disappointment after another. Every woman he had been involved with had been drawn not to him, but to his wealth. As one of the heirs to a powerful and influential family, he had long accepted that this pattern was almost unavoidable. What Patrick wanted was far more difficult to find. He longed to fall in love with a woman who cared for him as a person, not for the name he carried or the fortune attached to it. One night, while he was at a bar, an attractive stranger approached him. Because of his appearance and composed demeanor, she mistook him for a gigolo. She made an unconventional proposal, one that immediately caught his interest and proved impossible for him to refuse.