From Love Story to Nightmare

The Billionaire's Price For My Baby

I had been Adrian Conway's executive assistant for five years, serving as the perfect, invisible shadow to the coldest billionaire in Manhattan. But a single night of weakness after a high-stakes charity gala left me staring at a positive pregnancy test in the office restroom, my heart hammering with a fear I couldn't escape. I tried to keep the secret and maintain my professionalism, but a freak accident in the lobby sent the test sliding across the marble floor-straight to the feet of Adrian's mother. The terrifying matriarch didn't offer a hand; she offered a cold, calculated ultimatum that turned my life into a high-stakes business transaction. Adrian didn't even look at me when he heard the news, his voice cutting like a scalpel as he called our night a "mistake" and an "irrelevancy." Within days, I was forced into a hollow marriage at City Hall, wearing a diamond that felt like a shackle and moving into a penthouse where I was treated like an unwanted intruder. The nightmare deepened when they slid a new contract across the table: I would carry the child to term, hand it over to the Conway family immediately after birth, and sign away all parental rights for five million dollars. "Don't expect me to play the loving husband. You are an employee who got a promotion," Adrian sneered, his eyes filled with pure loathing. He believed I had trapped him for his fortune, and his sister publicly branded me a "gold-digging parasite" while trying to force a DNA test. When I hesitated to sign the paper giving up my baby, Adrian leaned in with a terrifying calm, threatening to stop the life-saving medical payments for my dying mother. I was surrounded by unimaginable wealth but had never felt more impoverished, realizing that to the Conways, I was nothing more than a vessel for an heir. I couldn't understand how a man I had respected for years could be so monstrously cruel, holding my mother's life hostage just to steal my child. As I looked at the cold, clinical man who was now my husband, the desperation in my chest turned into a hard, freezing resolve. I picked up the pen and scrawled my name on the contract to save my mother, but I made a silent promise to the tiny life inside me. I had nine months to find a loophole, nine months to gather their secrets, and nine months to make Adrian Conway regret the day he ever thought he could own me.

Bought by the Billionaire: The Debt's Price

I was the "fallen princess" of New York, living in a charcoal silk cage while paying off my father’s millions in debt with my own body. My owner was Braxton Kensington, a man who looked at me with the same cold interest he gave a fluctuating stock graph. One morning, a New York Times alert shattered the silence: Braxton was getting engaged to a billionaire socialite in the merger of the decade. When I demanded my freedom and the five-million-dollar severance promised in our contract, he just smirked and pointed to the fine print. "In a court of law, an engagement is just an intention," he whispered, gripping my chin until it bruised. "Until I sign that marriage license, you belong to me." He flicked a black AmEx at my feet like I was a tragic charity case, ordering me to buy a dress for his engagement gala. To save my dying mother from eviction, I took a secret translation job, only to realize my client was his new fiancée, Caroline. She dragged me to Braxton’s office to humiliate me, and after he hid me in a secret room to avoid a scandal, he branded me a "security risk" and froze every cent I had. I stood in a CVS with my last sixty dollars, swallowing a Plan B pill dry while watching a news report about Braxton demolishing my family’s last legacy. He didn't just want my body; he wanted to erase my entire existence and leave me with nothing. The cruelty was breathtaking, but Braxton forgot that a woman with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous player in the game. I reached out to the only man he truly feared—his billionaire half-brother and the boy whose heart I broke years ago, Ansel Neal. "Coffee isn't enough," Ansel replied to my message in seconds. "Dinner. Our old spot. 8 PM." As I walked into the club to meet Braxton's greatest rival, I knew the game wasn't over. I was just changing the rules.

He Chose His Ex, I Chose Vengeance

On the day I was supposed to marry Giovanni Moretti, he publicly declared I was his brother’s girl. He called off our wedding at the last minute. His ex, Sofia, had amnesia after a car crash, her memory reset to a time when they were still deeply in love. So he cast me aside in my wedding dress to play the part of her devoted boyfriend. For a month, I was forced to live as a "guest" in the Moretti estate, watching him dote on her and rebuild their past, all while promising he would marry me as soon as she recovered. Then I overheard the truth. Giovanni had the cure for her amnesia locked away in his safe. He wasn't trapped. He was indulging, savoring a second chance with the love of his life. He was confident I was his property, that I would simply wait until he was done. He told his men he could have us both. He used his brother's name to humiliate me. Fine. I would use his brother's name to destroy him. I walked into the office of the true power in the family, Don Domenico Moretti. "Your brother said I am your companion," I told him. "Let's make it real. Marry me."

When Betrayal Burns: A Husband’s Revenge

Something was wrong with Olivia. Small things at first: a new perfume, hidden texts, glossy shopping bags from stores we couldn' t afford. Then, during a video call from my business trip, the camera shifted, and I saw a men' s watch on her nightstand. A big, silver one. It wasn' t mine. Her smile snapped, her eyes darted away, and she stammered, calling it a "surprise" before disconnecting. When she texted an hour later, full of false cheer, I noticed new, expensive diamond earrings that I hadn' t bought. She claimed my sister, Sarah, had given them to her "ages ago." Her stories fell apart under the slightest probe. She was a terrible liar, her panic barely concealed by forced smiles. My gut screamed, but I clung to hope. But the cheap, plastic keychain she gave me as her "surprise" upon my return, while her brand-new designer handbag sat on the counter, next to the memory of that expensive watch, shattered any illusions. I became withdrawn, playing the broken husband. Yet, when I "forgot" my wallet and returned home, I heard Olivia whisper to Sarah about "Mr. Davies" and a deal. My sister, my own flesh and blood, had sold my wife to her boss for a promotion. The realization was a physical blow. My wife, my sister-they had betrayed me in the most heinous way imaginable. They thought I was an idiot, a clueless fool. But the game had just begun.

When the Oil Heiress Strikes Back

I thought our 10th anniversary party was the night Ethan, my musician boyfriend of ten years, would finally propose. Ten years I'd dedicated to supporting his dreams, putting his ambitions above my own, quietly funding our life. But instead of a ring, he abandoned the party for his ex-girlfriend, Molly, only to post a cringeworthy picture later that night on Instagram. It was him and Molly, her head on his shoulder, holding up a sonogram with a caption: "Starting a new chapter. Sometimes the most beautiful songs are the ones you come back to." The humiliation was instant, public, and absolute. The next morning, Molly called me from HIS phone, chirping about him making her breakfast, and Ethan scoffed at my pain, calling me "needy" for being upset he announced a baby with his ex on our anniversary. He even had the audacity to keep Molly hidden in my luxury downtown condo, the one he deemed "blood money" unfit for his artistic integrity, demanding I cook for them when I confronted him there. How could the man I loved, the partner I had built a life with, treat me with such utter contempt and cruelty, forcing me into this grotesque spectacle in my own home? That's when I picked up the phone, not to argue, not to beg, but to call my father's legal team and serve them both with an immediate eviction.

Chloe's Legacy: A Vow of Vengeance

Six years ago, my best friend Chloe and I made a pact: escape our dead-end town and conquer the world. We thrived. My husband, Alex, was Governor, and Chloe, pregnant and radiating joy, celebrated at his inaugural ball. This was our victory, our grand triumph. Then, a gunman appeared. Chloe, without a second' s thought, shielded me, taking the bullet meant for my chest. She collapsed, a crimson stain blooming on her white gown. As my world narrowed to her fading life, I saw my husband, Alex, not looking at us, but instinctively shielding another woman: Jessica Davenport, his high school sweetheart. He chose her. In that moment of terror, he protected his ghost from the past, not his wife. Chloe whispered of a "reset" clause, a way back she'd hidden, before taking her last breath. My sister, my other half, gone because she protected me, while my husband protected someone else. Rage, cold and hard, festered inside me. But then, a cryptic message arrived: Failsafe activated. Chloe' s final directive. It led to a vast, hidden network – private investigators, data miners, offshore accounts. Chloe had given me a weapon. She wanted a reset, to go back to a forgotten past. But going back meant they would all get away with it. Alex. Ethan. Jessica. Instead, I decided to burn their entire world to the ground.

Abandoned Wife, Billionaire Revenge

My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world. Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage. An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity. The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity. How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation. Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free.

A Divorce He Regrets

The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever?

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.

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.

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."