After My Death, His Sight Returned

The Useful Tool's Revenge

For two years, I lived a lie in a rundown apartment, risking everything for Matthew – the man I believed was my future. I was an elite undercover investigative journalist, but I became his 'freelance stringer,' gathering intel, dodging bullets, all to help him reclaim his detective career. Then came the ambush. Shots fired, a bullet in my shoulder, another grazing my leg. As I lay bleeding, Matthew' s voice crackled over my comms: "She' s a useful tool... I' m feeding all this intel straight to Stella. My sister' s going to be the most powerful woman in this city." My world shattered. The intel I' d bled for wasn' t for justice; it was a stepping stone for his sister' s social climbing. He wasn' t just using me; he orchestrated my attack, laughing at my sacrifice. Returning to him, broken and exposed, Matthew offered a fake apology and a glittering necklace, trying to pull me back into his deception. He called it love. I knew it was a chain. How could I have been so blind, so stupid? But Jocelyn Fuller wasn' t naive anymore. I let him think he still had me, but I reactivated a hidden bug. I watched as he and his sister, intertwined in my supposed "safe house," openly mocked me, celebrating their manipulative plot. That' s when the useful tool decided to break free and turn the game on them.

The Lie He Called Love

My fiancé, Jake, vanished a week before our wedding for a top-secret project. He promised to return in three years, and like a fool, I waited, believing our future was just on pause. But when my mother was dying, I discovered the truth. All his calls and his entire hazard pay stipend had been diverted to his childhood friend, Britney, for her "emotional support." After my mother' s death, I rebuilt my life and married a wonderful man. But a chance encounter at her grave turned violent. Jake shoved me, and I collapsed, bleeding, terrified I was losing the baby I was carrying. I begged him for help, but he and Britney just watched, callously betting on whether I was faking it. He was still staring as I bled out when a shadow fell over me. It was my husband, Davion Carpenter. The man who also happened to be Jake' s boss.

His Cruel Obsession, Her Agony

My younger brother, Ernesto, was strapped to a metal chair, convulsing, his face a ghastly blue. I was on my knees, begging Kalen Cooper, the man I once loved, to stop. He looked down at me, his handsome face a mask of cold indifference, and offered a choice: a hundred lashes for me, or Ernesto takes my place. He said Izabella, the woman who looked just like me and whom he was now obsessed with, needed to be appeased. He called her his "therapy," claiming my disobedience upset her. I reminded him Ernesto had cystic fibrosis, his body already so weak, but Kalen scoffed, saying his pain was far greater. Ernesto, barely conscious, rasped, "Don't... don't do it for me." But I agreed to the whip, just for his medication. Kalen' s expression softened, pulling me into a cruel illusion of safety. Then, his smile vanished. "You misunderstood," he whispered, his eyes glinting. "You don' t get to choose who takes the punishment. You only get to agree to it." He pointed at Ernesto. "He will take the lashes for you." I screamed, fighting to shield my brother, but Kalen held me tight, forcing my face into his chest. I couldn't see, but I heard everything: the sharp crack of the whip, the sickening thud, Ernesto' s choked gasp. Over and over. The man I loved was a monster, finding pleasure in my pain.

His Cruel Game, Her Broken Heart

I was about to marry Holden Dalton, the heir to a real estate empire. For three years, the world watched our fairy-tale romance: the poor art student who won the heart of a prince. But on the eve of our wedding, I discovered the truth. Our entire relationship was a lie—a cruel, three-year-long "social experiment" he orchestrated to humiliate me for the amusement of his childhood sweetheart, Estella. The truth came out after a car accident revealed I was three months pregnant. Heartbroken, I walked into a clinic alone and left our baby behind on a cold operating table. But my pain was just part of their entertainment. They staged a fake kidnapping, and Holden chose to "save" Estella without hesitation, leaving me to be pushed off a cliff onto an airbag as his friends laughed. At a charity gala for an arts center I had poured my soul into, he publicly gave all the credit to Estella, branding me a fraud. The resulting scandal caused my mentor to die from a heart attack. Then, they sent a "condolence" cake to his funeral. In cheerful icing, it read: "Sorry for your loss! Another victim of the prank!" It was signed by both of them. That was when the last piece of my heart turned to stone. I walked away from the grave, pulled out my phone, and made a call. "Gael," I choked out, "I lost the bet. I'm ready to leave."

I'm Just A Substitute Wife For Your First Love？

My engagement party was supposed to be the start of my fairy tale with Liam, the handsome CEO, my everything for three years. His arm was tight around my waist, his whispered "I love you, Liv" filling my heart. Everything was perfect. Then his phone rang. His face changed, his easy smile replaced by a tension that radiated from him. He took the call in a quiet corner, and when he returned, he looked wild, frantic. "Liv, I have to go. It's an emergency. A family emergency." He said it was about "Chloe," a childhood friend who had just woken up from a ten-year coma. He practically ran out, abandoning me at our party, telling me to wait at home. The humiliation burned. My perfect world shattered. I was devastated, but I followed him to the hospital, only to overhear him confessing passionate devotion to Chloe. When I confronted him, he hid me from her, telling her I was just "a friend from work." He then asked me to move out of our shared apartment, claiming it was a "family tradition" before the wedding, so Chloe could move in. Day after day, I watched him choose her, lie for her, put her first, while I became a secret, a temporary inconvenience. I was heartbroken, but a cold realization began to dawn. I found an old photo album, hidden away, showing a teenage Liam with Chloe, intertwined and deeply in love. Her face, eerily similar to mine. Then, a newspaper article: Chloe Hayes, the sole survivor of a tragic car crash that killed her parents ten years ago, a crash Liam was in. He wasn't just her childhood friend; he was her first love, the man who was with her when her world shattered, and his family adopted her. I wasn' t the love of his life. I was just a substitute, a temporary replacement for the girl he lost. I was seeing red. How could he have used me like this? How could he have built our entire relationship on such a cruel, agonizing lie? I looked at the wedding dress I was supposed to be wearing for our photoshoot, then at the man who had seen through Liam's deception from the start. Ethan, Liam's rival, had been a quiet, steady presence. When Liam abandoned me at the photoshoot, claiming Chloe had tried to kill herself, and then told her in the hospital, "I'm here to marry you," I knew. I had to end this. "Are you free in ten days?" I asked Ethan. He blinked. "Marry me."

This Time I Chose Him

The list lay on the polished mahogany table, four names, my future, dictated by my father. Just four heirs to the city' s most powerful families. The world expected me to choose Ethan Miller, the charming heir I had publicly chased for years. They thought they knew our story, the pathetic heiress hopelessly in love. They didn' t know the real story, the one that ended with the screech of tires and the crushing impact of metal. I remembered the joy of my wedding day, shattered a year later when he declared our marriage a sham, publicly embracing his assistant, Sophia, his supposed true love. Then Sophia vanished, and Ethan turned his grief into a weapon against me. He brought home a new woman with Sophia' s gentle eyes every week, forcing me to endure his cruel reminders. The last thing I remembered was his unfeeling face as paramedics pulled my broken body from the car wreckage – the brakes had failed. It was no accident. Six months ago, I woke up in my own bed, nineteen again, the cold truth a burning scar on my soul. My heart went cold, a familiar chill, as I looked at the list. I would not choose Ethan Miller. I would not walk that path again. My finger traced past his name, landing on Liam Thorne. He was quiet, often overlooked, but he was kind. This time, my definition of smart had changed. It was no longer about power or passion. It was about survival.

Get Back The Abandoned Luna

The night I discovered my husband's whore was carrying his heir, I smiled for the cameras-and plotted his ruin. Scarlett was born a queen-heir to a powerful legacy, Luna of the Dark Moon Pack by blood and by sacrifice. She gave everything to Alexander: her love, her loyalty, her life. In return, he paraded his mistress before their pack... and dared to call it duty. But Scarlett won't be another broken woman weeping in the shadows. She'll wear her crown of thorns with pride, tear down every lie built around her, and when she strikes, it will be glorious. The Alpha forgot that the woman he betrayed is far more dangerous than the girl who once loved him.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town's richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. "Way to go, honey!"

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

From Trophy Wife to Scientific Queen

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

Love's Sweetest Surprise: From Brokenhearted To Billionaire's Wife

For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."