Tycoons Substitute Beauty 1

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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"Sir, your food is here."

Sheila Newell was a slim and beautiful woman. Wearing a sexy low-cut dress, she knocked furtively on the door of a hotel room. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

She was the adopted daughter of the Newell family. It just so happened that she looked a lot like the Newell family's cherished biological daughter, Winnie Newell. Knowing that Sheila was badly in need of money to cover the medical bills, Winnie had proposed that Sheila sleep with a man in exchange for a large sum of money.

The person inside the room was an ugly, fat director who had strange sexual proclivities. It was rumored that over a dozen young models had slept with him to further their careers, only to end up dead in bed.

At this moment, Sheila wanted more than anything to turn around and bolt as fast as she could. However, thinking about Ivan York's critical condition in the hospital, she knew she couldn't give up.

Sheila took a deep breath and finally plucked up the courage to open the door.

"Hello, is somebody— Ah!" Before she could finish her sentence, a hand suddenly reached out from behind the door and yanked her in.

Almost instantly, the strong scent of alcohol hit Sheila. She looked up nervously and found a tall figure standing in front of her in the darkness. Scared out of her wits, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Under the dim light, Sheila could only vaguely make out the man's cold eyes. However, she could clearly hear his heavy breathing.

Swallowing anxiously, she desperately tried to calm herself down.

Thinking of what was about to happen, Sheila said feebly, "Sir, this is my first time. Please... please be gentle."

The man tilted his head slightly to the side as though he found what she said interesting. Chuckling, his cold gaze softened a bit.

He raised his hand and rubbed the tip of Sheila's ear teasingly. His voice was low and hoarse. "Then why don't you do it by yourself?"

"Sir..." Sheila blushed, feeling both fearful and embarrassed.

The man who stared at Sheila stopped talking. Instead, he picked her up and threw her on the bed.

Then he climbed on top of her and started to kiss her collarbone and neck passionately.

Finally, he made his way up to her red lips and murmured, "This might hurt a little bit."

The stiff Sheila came to her senses and she started to struggle. "No, please..."

"Don't be afraid. I will take care of you."

The man could barely control his lust for Sheila. His voice was thick with desire, and before Sheila knew it, she felt something huge thrusting inside her body.

Silent tears rolled down Sheila's cheeks.

Thinking of Winnie's promise, she finally closed her eyes, bit her lip, and put up with it without protest.

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