Reborn, He Still Hated Me

The Secret Heiress Returns: Ruining My Cheating Husband

I stood in the middle of the gala I had spent months curating, waiting for the perfect moment to tell my husband, Gabe, that he was going to be a father. Instead, I watched him place a possessive hand on the stomach of my best friend, Harper. A reporter nearby whispered the truth that stopped my heart: Harper was pregnant with Gabe’s child, and they were announcing it after the IPO. When I confronted him, Gabe didn't apologize. He looked at me with cold calculation and told me a scandal would ruin the company. Then came the ultimatum that shattered my soul. He wanted me to hide in the countryside, give birth in secret, and hand my baby over to his mistress to raise. "Don't be selfish," he said. "She needs this baby more than you do." When I refused, his mother had me dragged away and locked in my bedroom. My windows were sealed, and my own parents sold me out, releasing a statement that I had suffered a mental breakdown. I was trapped, starving, and waiting for them to induce labor so they could steal my child. But they made one fatal mistake. To keep me "calm," Gabe handed me my phone for five minutes. I didn't call the police; the Sullivans owned them. I dialed a number I had found in my adoption papers years ago. A number belonging to Anthony Dean, the most dangerous man on the East Coast. "They are going to kill my baby," I whispered into the receiver. The voice on the other end was low, terrifying, and promised absolute violence. "I'm coming."

A Dead Lover's Lingering Shadow

I was strapped to a bomb, pregnant and terrified, using my last moments to call the man I loved. But Arthur didn't send help; he hung up on me because his foster sister, Ivy, was "scared of a noise" outside her apartment. Ten minutes later, the explosion erased me and our unborn child from existence. My spirit didn't cross over. I was cursed to remain as a ghost, tethered to Arthur. I watched him block my number, convinced my silence was just a "jealous stunt." I watched him ignore my missing person report until he stood over my charred remains in the morgue, clutching the locket he gave me. His grief was agonizing, but the truth was worse. A year later, during a staged kidnapping meant to win him back, Ivy slipped up. She admitted she had orchestrated my murder to keep him for herself. As Arthur looked at her with pure hatred, the bond holding me to him finally snapped. But I didn't leave. A dark, cold force pulled me toward Ivy instead. My pain is over, but her nightmare is just beginning.

I Dumped my Fiancé at the Wedding

Jake, my boyfriend, became infatuated with Elsie, the girl he sponsored. In the end, the period where relationships often face challenges after several years caught up with us; we weren't spared. On the day everything was laid out, I remained unusually calm. After a stalemate, Jake chose me and sent Elsie away. On the day of our engagement party, rumors spread quickly throughout the community that Elsie fell into the water at the lake. With eyes red from tears, I held onto Jake as he panicked, "Jake, once you go for her, there's no future for us." In Jake's eyes, there was unmistakable disgust and blame. "Losing Elsie is like losing my future. Isabel, don't make me hate you." I froze for a moment as he broke free from my grasp and ran out without looking back. Gazing at my wedding dress, I chuckled to myself. Since Jake refused to change his mind, why should I linger in the same place any longer?

He Sacrifice Me To Save His Stepsister

The pain shot up from my tailbone. I lay at the bottom of the grand staircase, a warm, sticky wetness spreading beneath me. My baby. My unborn child. Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Jake, my husband, rushed past me without a glance. He went straight to my stepsister, Brooke, who was slumped against the wall, her face a mask of fake terror. "Brooke! Are you okay? Did she hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with panic. He cradled her in his arms, then turned to me, his eyes cold and full of hate. "Ava Riley," he spat, "If I hadn' t lost my memory, there' s no way I would have ever married you." The words hit me harder than the fall. Brooke, nestled in his arms, looked at me with a triumphant smirk. She whispered to Jake about finding property for an art gallery to "heal." He immediately pulled out his phone, without even looking at me, lying in a pool of my own blood. The next day, Jake used his immense power to condemn my family' s historic art studio. My loving parents, trying to stop the demolition, were crushed and killed by falling debris. The news came to me in the sterile white of a hospital room, after I had already lost my child. It was all gone. Replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness. When I finally left the Miller mansion, carrying my parents' ashes, Jake' s friends snickered, thinking I' d crawl back. Jake sneered, "It' s just a pity play. She schemed her way into wealth. She' d never leave." They didn't see the black car waiting for me. They also didn't know my private jet was ready on the skyscraper rooftop. They thought I was a broken, penniless artist. They had no idea who I really was. And they had no idea what I was about to do.

His Greed, Her Triumph

My world shattered on a Tuesday afternoon while I was scrolling through a local city forum. An anonymous post popped up, short and alarming. "Warning to anyone dating a guy who hangs out at the 'Gilded Bean' café downtown. Overheard a man and a woman, 'Liam' and 'Chloe' , plotting something vile. They were talking about drugging his rich girlfriend, staging an 'accident' , and getting her money. He mentioned she' s a tech exec." Liam. My Liam. My breath caught. We went to the Gilded Bean all the time. The post described him: "He was wearing a very distinctive watch, a silver one with a dark blue face. Looked expensive." I bought him that watch for our one-year anniversary. A limited edition Zenith Chronomaster. There wasn' t another one like it in the city. Then the name Chloe sealed it. Chloe Davies. A girl from his past he always claimed to dislike, someone he called "trashy" and "desperate." My phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the hardwood floor of the apartment Liam and I shared. The shock was a physical blow. It couldn' t be real. Not Liam. Every sweet word, every tender touch, the way he looked at me with what I thought was love – it was all a lie. A carefully crafted performance. He wasn' t just planning to steal from me; he was planning to kill me. The thought of him using my trust to isolate me, making me feel secure while he sharpened the knife, made me sick. The man I loved didn' t exist. He was a monster, and I had invited him into every corner of my life. I wouldn' t be his victim. Liam Parker thought he was hunting a sheep; he was about to find out he had targeted a lioness. He wasn' t getting away with this. None of them were.

Eight Years, A Cruel Joke

For eight years, I clung to Liam' s drunken promise, a joke he' d made at 14 that felt like a sacred vow. I transformed myself, chasing perfection for him, believing our 22nd birthday was finally our moment. But then, I overheard him plotting: our "promise" was a cruel lie, a scheme to get rid of me. He was in love with Sienna, planning a fake engagement and a rented baby to finally drive me away. My world shattered, reduced to nothing but the echoing laughter of his friends. Why was I always just an obstacle, a joke in his meticulously crafted life? I accepted an overseas scholarship, packed my bags, and burned every memory of him, ready to disappear. He publicly humiliated me, flaunting his engagement to Sienna at a charity gala. Then, when a planter fell, he shielded her, completely ignoring me as I lay bleeding on the floor. At my farewell party, he shoved me into a lake, leaving me to drown, just to protect Sienna. He chose her. Over his best friend. Over my life. My brother, Mark, came to my rescue, raging at Liam, but it was clear Liam felt no remorse. He claimed I was "unstable" and "obsessed," twisting every truth to fit his narrative. I left for New York, cutting all ties, determined to erase him from my life forever. Years later, Liam, broken and ruined by Sienna and her lover, Julian, desperately sought me out. He found me, happy and successful, with Alex-a man who truly valued me. I finally had the strength to tell him his apology meant nothing, that he was no longer my problem. The man who once dominated my every thought was now a pathetic stranger, utterly unimportant. I threw away his final, belated confession, a paper airplane of wasted love, into the New York sky. My journey from a broken girl to a celebrated architect, from chasing a false star to finding my own wings, was complete. I was finally free, soaring into a future he could never touch.

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Vows of Vengeance: A Bride Reborn

She thought she was happily married - until she was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. Then came the truth: her "devoted" husband Lucien had been poisoning her for years, all to avenge a dead lover. On her deathbed, Calliope made a vow: If life gave her one more chance, she'd rewrite every ending-starting with his. Now reborn seven years earlier, she tears off the wedding dress and walks away from Lucien's lies. To protect her family and reclaim her stolen legacy, Calliope proposes a marriage of convenience to Conrad: a cold, enigmatic firefighter with more power-and more secrets-than anyone realizes. But Lucien is also reborn. And just as cruel. But this time, she's not the naïve bride. She's a tech genius. A business queen. A woman with nothing to lose. And Conrad? He's not just fire and steel-he's the weapon she never knew she needed. They're not here to survive. They're here to win.

From Rejected Omega to the Supreme White Wolf

I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

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."

He Chose First Love, I Chose the Alpha King

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.