My Runaway Groom's Billionaire Cousin

Broken Strings: The Mafia Wife’s Exit

I was bleeding out in the dark, bound to a chair, when I heard my husband tell another woman he would burn the world down for her. Dante Moretti didn't know I was on the other side of the paper-thin wall. He didn't know that ten years ago, I was the girl who saved his life in a frozen cave, not his mistress, Sofia. Sofia had stolen my story, and now she was stealing my life. When I tried to leave him, Dante chained me in his dungeon and whipped me until I passed out, claiming he was "disciplining" his wife. When Sofia used steel cello strings to slice my fingers open, destroying my ability to ever play again, he looked the other way. He even chose to save her over me when we fell into the freezing ocean, leaving me to drown because "Sofia is my soul." That night, I finally stopped fighting for a man who didn't exist. I called my brother, the Don of New York. "The alliance is over," I whispered into the phone. "Take me home." It took Dante three months to uncover the truth. To see the medical records proving I was the one who dragged him from that cave. He burned his own boat to trap us on an island, begging for a second chance. "I can fix this," he pleaded, tears streaming down his face as he touched my scarred, ruined hands. I looked at him, then at the man standing behind him with a rifle—the man who actually loved me. "You can't fix a shattered vase, Dante," I said. Then I watched my new protector pull the trigger.

Broken Vows And Paris Lights: My New Beginning

For fifteen years, I buried my dream of motherhood because my husband, Bennett, swore he carried a tragic genetic defect. "If we have children, they will suffer," he had cried on our bathroom floor. I believed him. I made him my religion. But at a charity gala, everything shattered. He introduced his twenty-two-year-old mistress as his "little sister," only to announce moments later that she was pregnant with his heir. He never had a genetic defect. He just didn't want a child with me. The humiliation didn't stop there. He moved her into our home. He took my grandmother’s emerald necklace, reset the stone, and fastened it around her neck in front of our friends. When I tried to leave quietly, he sneered that I was jealous and toxic. He was confident he could break me, planning to manipulate me into eventually helping raise his mistress's baby. He didn't know two things. First, his mistress was faking the pregnancy to trap him. Second, I wasn't going to stay to watch the fallout. While he rushed her to the hospital for a staged emergency, blaming me for her "pain," I quietly boarded a private jet to Paris. I deleted my number. I destroyed my SIM card. I reclaimed my maiden name. By the time Bennett realized his "heir" was a lie and his wife was gone, I was already starting a new life where he didn't exist.

Ashes of Love, Flames of Justice

My phone buzzed on the counter of the vet clinic, a harsh sound, demanding my attention from a complicated case. It was Mark, my husband, sharp and impatient. "Chloe, drop whatever you' re doing. I need you." He needed his backup drive, for the biggest night of his career, a speech about 'sacrifice' and 'unwavering support', to impress his investors. I, his vet-tech wife, was racing home to fetch it, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. When I arrived, he was radiant on stage, spouting platitudes about family while I clutched the hard drive in the shadows, my stomach twisting. My phone vibrated: Dr. Reed, our son Leo' s specialist. "Chloe, the new treatment protocol is our best option, but we need to start immediately. The hospital requires a significant deposit." It was an unimaginable sum. I looked through the glass at Mark, laughing with investors, the hard drive forgotten. Leo and I were not in his world. In that moment, something inside me shifted. The long, slow burn of resentment ignited into cold, clear purpose. I wasn't going to wait for him. I wasn't going to ask him. I drove directly to sell my father' s classic Mustang – my most prized possession – for the cash. Returning home, a bright orange notice was slapped on our front door: NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE. My key wouldn' t work. My credit card was declined. I called Mark, his voice laced with fury. "Where the hell did you go? You embarrassed me, Chloe!" "The house, Mark," I whispered, trembling. "There' s a foreclosure notice. My keys don' t work." "I mortgaged it. Months ago. The startup needed a cash infusion," he sneered. "It' s gone, Chloe. My last-ditch funding failed because I was too damn distracted by all this drama with Leo. Your drama." Rain plastering my hair to my face, I sank to my knees. "We' re done," he said. "I told the bank to change the locks. You can get your things tomorrow." He hung up. Just then, Leo, pale and frail, opened the door. "Mommy? Why is Daddy yelling? Are we leaving our house?" His simple words cut through my shock. I pulled him close, whispering, "What if it was just you and me from now on? A new life. Would that be okay?" He nodded, trusting. That was all I needed.

The Reluctant Heir's Wildcat

My life as the "Montana Wildcat" was all about rebellion against the stuffy East Coast elite. But when an old blackmail threat jeopardized my Senator father's career, I was forced into a desperate solution: a fake engagement to Sterling Prescott IV, the blue-blood heir who personified everything I ran from. My plan was simple: unleash enough chaos to scare off the Prescotts and annul the whole charade. Instead, his formidable grandmother imprisoned me in their lavish estate for a forced "refinement," and strangely, Sterling became my unexpected confidante and ally, stealing midnight burgers and listening to my wild tales. Just as our fake relationship started feeling disturbingly real, my world shattered. Suddenly, the FBI stormed our home, planting fake evidence on my laptop that implicated my father in a national security scandal, destroying his career overnight. The final blow came with paparazzi photos showing Sterling, seemingly abandoning me, arm-in-arm with Blair Vanderbilt, the daughter of my father' s bitter rival. The man I'd grudgingly begun to trust, who had broken through all my walls, had seemingly betrayed me when I needed him most, leaving me heartbroken and politically ruined, a pariah. Then, at my father's televised Senate hearing, where his career was moments from collapse, Sterling walked in. He carried a briefcase and a recording that would not only clear my father's name but expose the true architect of our downfall, turning everything I thought I knew on its head.

His Faked Death, My True Love

My eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through familiar curtains in what was undeniably my childhood bedroom on a military base. But a stark, chilling truth hit me: I died. I vividly remembered fire, twisted metal, and then a profound, cold darkness. My father, General Miller, walked in, his voice deep and reassuring. "Sarah, you're awake. We need to talk about your future." He began to speak of Captain Mark Olsen, the perfect, ambitious officer everyone expected me to choose. The name was a bitter taste. Because in my first life, I married Mark. Then came the devastating news: killed in action. The grief consumed me. I stopped living, leading to my own tragic car accident months later. My world ended. But it wasn't true. As a lingering spirit, I watched my world shatter while his continued. Mark, alive and vibrant, laughing with Tiffany Evans, his arm around her. They had faked his death, eloped, and built a long, happy life together, completely discarding the woman who died for him. The rage, the profound betrayal, morphed from a cold fire to a precise, icy shard in my chest. Why did I endure such suffering, such a cruel end, while they basked in their deceitful bliss? The injustice was unbearable. But this was it. My second chance. A precious, impossible gift. This time, there would be no Mark Olsen. This time, I' d choose differently. This time, my life wouldn' t end in ashes.

The Governess's Million-Dollar Mission

My brother Leo's medical bills were a crushing weight, pulling us both into a financial black hole. Then, a lifeline: a contract, presented by a lawyer with a voice dry as old parchment. My mission for the next year: transform the Kincaid children, Oliver and Chloe, into "presentable" figures for their prestigious annual gala. The payment was astronomical, the only hope I had to save Leo. I signed, ready to become the stern governess, Sarah Hayes. Stepping into the marble-floored entryway of the Long Island mansion, I faced two miniature tyrants. Oliver, thirteen, oozed practiced apathy, while Chloe, ten, clutched a tablet displaying designer logos. "Another one? How long you gonna last, lady?" Oliver sneered, followed by Chloe's contemptuous, "Do you even know who I am?" Their father, perpetually attached to his phone, was nowhere to be found, leaving me to face their immediate, blatant rebellion alone. My first command was simple: hand over the skateboard and the tablet. This unleashed an explosion of outrage. "This is child abuse!" Oliver shrieked, threatening to call his wealthy, absent father. Chloe's wail was operatic, as if I’d declared her streaks and followers dead. The contract had warned of testing, but the sheer entitlement was a shock, making every small step feel like a war. How was I supposed to achieve "significant improvement" when their every instinct was to resist and undermine me? The Kincaid money, critical for Leo's surgery and recovery, felt like a constant mockery against their spoiled lives. The weight of my brother's future pressed down, reminding me that I absolutely could not fail, no matter how impossible the task seemed. My quiet thought, "Managing these two? How hard can it be?" now echoed like the most foolish words ever spoken. I held out my hand, unflinching, for the skateboard and tablet. Their resistance was part of the job description, a challenge I had to overcome for Leo. This was my new regime, unyielding, strict, and it had just begun. My personal philosophy was simple: family first.

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."

Brilliance Unmasked: The Cold-Blooded Tycoon Wants His Vengeful Queen

Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."

Fated To The World's Richest Man

The day Lilah found out that she was pregnant, she caught her fiancé cheating on her. Her remorseless fiancé and his mistress almost killed her. Lilah fled for her dear life. When she returned to her hometown five years later, she happened to save a little boy's life. The boy's father turned out to be the world's richest man. Everything changed for Lilah from that moment. The man didn't let her experience any inconvenience. When her ex-fiancé bullied her, he crushed the scumbag's family and also rented out an entire island just to give Lilah a break from all the drama. He also taught Lilah's hateful father a lesson. He crushed all her enemies before she even asked. When Lilah's vile sister threw herself at him, he showed her a marriage certificate and said, "I'm happily married and my wife is much more beautiful than you are!" Lilah was shocked. "When did we ever get married? Last I checked, I was still single." With a wicked smile, he said, "Honey, we've been married for five years. Isn't it about time we had another child together?" Lilah's jaw dropped to the floor. What the hell was he talking about?

Captivation: Want Nothing But You

Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.

Beg For My Love, Cold-Hearted CEO

Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.

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.