Buried In CEO's Frantic Infatuation

His Discarded Wife Was The Real Boss

I spent fifteen years building my husband's mafia empire, coding the complex algorithms that washed his blood money clean. But on my thirty-fifth birthday, instead of a gift, I received a photo of his hand resting on another woman's thigh. When I confronted him, Dustin didn't apologize. He brought his pregnant mistress, Jami, into our penthouse and told me to accept the hush money. "You have nothing except what I give you," he sneered, treating me like a slow servant rather than the mastermind behind his success. The argument turned violent. He shoved me hard, sending me crashing into a solid oak nightstand. As I lay on the floor, bleeding and dizzy from a split forehead, I watched the man I loved step over my body to comfort the woman wearing my mother's stolen heirloom ring. He didn't check my pulse. He didn't call for help. He looked at me with pure disgust and turned his back. In that moment, the wife died, and the witness was born. He thought I was powerless because I had no assets in my name. He thought I would fade away quietly. He forgot one crucial detail: I wasn't just the furniture in his castle. I was the architect. Every server, every encrypted drive, every hidden account—I owned the code. I wiped the blood from my face and walked out the door, but I didn't go to a lawyer. I went to a hardware store and bought a ten-pound sledgehammer. I wasn't going to just leave him. I was going to delete him.

His Fatal Love, Her Bitter End

My billionaire husband spent three years and a fortune to find a donor heart to save my life. He was my hero, my entire world after a woman named Karma Smith framed my father and destroyed my family. Then, I discovered he'd been protecting her all along. She was his mistress, pregnant with his child. Overnight, I became the villain in his eyes. He ignored my calls for help as her thugs beat me and dragged me behind their car. He forced me to kneel in the snow all night as punishment for the miscarriage she faked and blamed on me. The final act of his cruelty was a sea burial for the "baby" I had "murdered." On his yacht, he held her in his arms, his eyes burning with a hatred that seared my soul. When she "accidentally" dropped the urn into the ocean, he turned his rage on me. "Then you'll jump in and find it!" he roared. I looked at the monster who wore my husband's face, the man I had loved more than life itself. And without hesitation, I threw myself into the icy water.

His Humiliation, Her Freedom

For seven years, I lived in Liam Sterling' s shadow, meticulously crafting his academic success. Tonight, at our graduation party, he stood on stage, arm around his new girlfriend, Skye Miller, and publicly humiliated me. He announced they were going to Northwood Community College, then suggested I come along, sneering, "You know you can' t manage without me telling you what to do. It' s for the best." Murmurs and snickers filled the room. "His lapdog." "He owns her." Humiliation burned my cheeks, but this time, something snapped. The suffocating feeling that had always compelled my obedience vanished. All the years of silent suffering exploded into rage. When Liam, unaccustomed to resistance, tried to order me around again, I looked him straight in the eye. "No," I said, my voice clear and loud for the first time. His face reddened, but I wasn' t done. "I' m not going to community college with you, Liam. I' m not going anywhere with you." His control shattered, Liam escalated. He and Skye led a mob to my house, turning my sanctuary into a frat party. They poured wine on my graduation dress, laughed at my humiliation, and when I saw my grandmother' s locket-a precious heirloom-around Skye' s neck, a piece of my soul was torn. Liam had stolen it from my room and given it to her. "It' s just a piece of cheap metal, Ava," he scoffed. "It was my grandmother' s! It' s all I have left of her!" I cried, but he just said, "Get over it." Then, Skye whispered to Liam about my college applications, suggesting he destroy my future. My heart pounded as he headed for my room, a cruel smile on his face. No! My future. My laptop. He publicly deleted my Ivy League applications, replacing them with Northwood Vocational School, and submitted it. Then, he smashed my laptop. They dragged me to the basement, locking me in, knowing my deepest fear. My world ended there, swallowed by darkness and their laughter. But somewhere, a father was about to get a call, and Liam Sterling was about to learn a very painful lesson.

When Silence Roared: A Mother's Escape

My life was a constant struggle, cleaning up after Ethan, a musician with "the devil's blood" and a cruel wife, all while trying to save for my son Caleb's therapy. But when Ethan bought his mistress a diamond bracelet with Caleb's therapy savings, then locked my terrified boy in a closet just for her amusement, I knew I was living in hell. The real nightmare began when he dragged Caleb to the edge of a bottomless quarry, threatening to push him, making me believe he was about to murder our child. Saved at the last moment by the Sheriff, Nathaniel, a man rumored to be the sworn enemy of Ethan's family, I thought I'd found sanctuary. But my ex-husband's control, rooted in a terrifying blood pact, threatened to destroy us all, pulling every loved one into his spiral of sadism. Even Nathaniel, my supposed savior, had his own dark secrets, revealed by a chilling recording on what was meant to be my wedding day. His calm dismissal of my pain and his true motives shattered my last ounce of hope. How could the man who rescued my son from the brink of death be using me as a pawn in his own twisted family game, willing to sacrifice my comfort and trust for his ambition? Why did he send my child away right before our ceremony, claiming it was for "safety"? I ripped off the wedding dress. I wasn't just leaving that wedding; I was leaving behind every lie, every manipulation, and redefining what it meant to fight for my son and myself, no matter the cost, no matter the man.

The Billionaire's Blizzard Bait

I lived a life of enviable luxury in my pristine Colorado mountain cabin, nestled deep in the Rockies. Then, I died, frozen solid just outside my own front door. My last sight was Ethan, my boyfriend, feasting on my food inside, watching me claw at the glass until my fingers bled. His family, the Scotts, laughed as I froze, adjusting curtains to block me out, celebrating my demise. They left me to perish in the brutal blizzard, utterly and completely abandoned. That death was absolute, excruciating, and unforgettable. But then, I jolted awake, submerged in 1200-thread-count sheets, the Rockies bathed in sunlight outside my window. It was ten days before the storm, before my betrayal. A wave of nausea hit me, the phantom hunger and cold still clinging to my bones, but then a cold, hard fury replaced it. This time, my cabin, my wealth, and my meticulous planning wouldn' t be my downfall; they would be my ultimate weapon.

When the Script Flipped

My senior year was supposed to be the start of everything. My award-winning screenplay, "Echo Park", had captivated a young producer named David, and my dream film school, USC, was within reach. But then, everything shattered. My SAT scores inexplicably plummeted, a disaster that strangely coincided with my best friend, Olivia's, perfect score. A year later, Olivia's mysteriously acclaimed screenplay, almost identical to mine, landed her the very deal David had offered me. Every ambition, every relationship, everything I cherished, she systematically stole, leaving me in a devastating spiral of depression that ended in an accidental overdose. As darkness consumed me, a terrifying truth slammed into my consciousness: Olivia, clutching a shimmering "Script Switcher," used it to rewrite my fate, three times over. How could my closest friend harbor such monstrous envy, possessing a magical device that allowed her to meticulously dismantle my entire life? Now, I'm back. Reborn on the exact day my downfall began, but this time with a chilling certainty and a ruthless plan. Olivia may still have her notorious Switcher, but I have the memories of a life lost and a cold resolve to make her steal nothing but my most spectacular failures.

Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret

After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

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.

The Billionaire's Medicine: His Silent Obsession

My stepmother sold me like a piece of inventory to a man known for breaking people just to plug the financial crater my father left behind. I was delivered to the Morton estate in the middle of a freezing storm, stripped of my phone, and told that if I didn't make myself useful, my senile grandfather would be evicted from his care facility by noon. The master of the house, Adonis Morton IV, was a monster living in a silent mausoleum, driven to the brink of madness by a sensory condition that turned every sound into a physical assault. When I was forced into his suite to serve him, he didn't see a human being; he saw a source of agony. In a fit of animalistic rage, he pinned me to the wall and nearly strangled me to death just for the sound of a shattering teacup. I only survived by using my grandfather’s secret herbal blends and pressure-point therapy to force his overactive nervous system into a drugged sleep. But saving him was my greatest mistake. Instead of letting me go, Adonis moved me into a guest suite connected to his own bedroom by a hidden door. He didn't just want me as a servant; he needed me as a human white-noise machine to drown out the demons in his head. The nightmare deepened when he took the promissory note that defined my freedom and tore it into confetti. By destroying the debt, he destroyed my exit strategy. He replaced my maid’s uniform with a silver silk dress that clung to my skin but did nothing to hide the dark, ugly bruises his fingers had left on my neck. He branded me as his "primary care associate," a title that was nothing more than a gilded cage. I felt a sickening sense of injustice as he forced me to sign a contract that banned me from contacting other men and required me to sleep wherever he slept. He looked at me with a possessive heat, calling me his "medication" rather than a woman. My family had sold my body, but Adonis Morton was intent on owning my very presence, using my grandfather’s medical bills as a leash to keep me within twenty feet of him at all times. Standing in a neglected greenhouse with mud staining my expensive silk, I realized I was no longer a victim waiting for rescue. If I was going to be his medication, I would learn how to be his cure—or his undoing. I began clearing the weeds with a cold, calculated frenzy, determined to turn this prison into my laboratory. He thinks he has trapped a helpless girl, but I am going to pry open the cracks in his stone walls until his entire world comes crashing down.

My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife

"Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment. As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire. The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die. She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate? Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.