The Quiet Assistant's Roar

The Billionaire's Regret: My Hidden Wife

I sat at a mahogany table long enough to land a plane on, signing the papers that ended my two-year marriage to billionaire Eric Koch. He didn't even show up for the divorce; he was in a private cigar lounge downstairs, sending his lawyer to hand me a five-million-dollar check to buy my silence like I was a discarded employee. For two years, I had perfected the role of the "mouse"—the plain, timid wife Eric looked right past, never suspecting I was actually Rose, the world-renowned designer behind a secret fashion empire. I never told him I was the "angel" who dragged his unconscious body from a burning car years ago, the woman he’d been searching for while he ignored the one across the breakfast table. To celebrate my freedom, I had a one-night stand with a stranger in a penthouse, only to wake up and realize the man I’d just slept with was my ex-husband. Before the ink on our divorce was dry, Eric used his billions to buy my studio, trapping me in a contract that forces me to work for him as a "lowly assistant" or face a fifty-million-dollar penalty. I watched in silence as a fame-hungry actress paraded around his office wearing my stolen heirloom locket—the only proof of my true identity—claiming she was the mystery woman from his bed. Eric looked right through my frumpy disguise with the same cold indifference he showed his wife, never realizing the woman he was hunting was standing right in front of him. I couldn't understand how he could be so obsessed with finding a ghost while treating the living woman who saved him like garbage. Why was he so determined to own every piece of Rose while he had spent two years throwing Aislinn away? "Tell him nothing," I whispered to my reflection as I reapplied the thick foundation that masked my face. "You're dangerous, Ann Reese," he told me later, his eyes narrowing as he sensed a familiar spark behind my thick glasses. I adjusted my bun and looked him in the eye, ready to play the long game. He thinks he’s bought my future, but he’s about to find out that Rose doesn’t just design couture—she designs ruins.

Forsaken by the Alpha, Chosen by Fate

I woke up before dawn to slice strawberries for my husband, Gabe, excited to finally tell him I was pregnant. As a "Wolfless" Omega, I had always been looked down upon, but I thought this baby proved I wasn't broken. But Gabe didn't come home alone. He walked in with Harper, a woman wearing the silk robe he had bought for me, reeking of his scent. He didn't kiss me. He didn't ask how I was. Instead, he sat her in my chair. "Make more pancakes," he ordered. "Harper is hungry." When I refused, demanding he explain why another woman was wearing my clothes, he didn't apologize. He used the Alpha Command. The pressure slammed me to the floor, crushing my bones and threatening the life inside my womb. I had to crawl out of the room while they laughed. My adoptive parents didn't save me; they sold me out for a council seat and a diamond necklace. Then came the public execution of my heart. At the Ascension Ceremony, Gabe took the microphone and rejected me in front of the entire Pack to make Harper his Luna. But they didn't just kick me out. They dragged me to a dirty, back-alley clinic. His mother ordered them to "remove the parasite" inside me. I screamed as they strapped me down. But as the needle touched my skin, the steel door was ripped off its hinges. The Alpha King stood in the debris, his eyes burning with golden rage as he looked at the necklace I wore. "Who dares touch my daughter?" he roared. I wasn't a defect. I was the lost White Wolf Princess. And the man standing behind the King wasn't just a guard—he was my true mate.

A Scientist's Revenge: New Life

I removed an intern from an award nomination for stealing my dead sister's research. My husband, Craig, was furious. He chose to defend her, not me. His rage turned violent. He destroyed my life's work-a cure for Alzheimer's-then shoved me so hard I miscarried our child. He called me "dramatic" as I bled on the floor. Then he locked me in our home, a prisoner, forcing me to sign over my patents to his mistress, the woman who drove my sister to suicide. He thought he had broken me, that I was his to control. But when he tried to humiliate me in the most depraved way imaginable, I saw my chance. I threw myself from a second-story window. As I lay broken on the ground, watching him rush to his mistress's side, I made a vow. My revenge was just beginning.

When Love Collides With Dark Past

For two years, I was in love with a man I only knew as C.L. Our anonymous online relationship was my safe haven from a world that terrified me, built on one simple rule: we would never meet. That rule shattered with a single text. He was a bestselling author, and his publisher was forcing him on a book tour. "I need to meet you," he wrote. "I can't do this without you." My social anxiety spiraled. I broke the only rule I could control and told him we should end it. The next morning, my boss ordered me to deliver files to our company's top client-the notoriously private author, Cristian Lancaster. It was him. My anonymous lover was my boss. He looked devastated, as if he' d been crying over my message, but he treated me like a stranger. I later found out the truth: he' d known who I was for two years, quietly waiting for me to trust him. But as our worlds finally collided, a jealous manager saw her chance for revenge. She forced me into a dinner with a dangerous man from my past, a man who drugged my drink and drove me toward a desolate road. As the car sped into the darkness, I hit record on my phone, realizing this was no longer about saving our love story. It was about saving my life.

His Celebrity Mistress's Downfall

I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Ignatz. But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell. He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Everleigh. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her career couldn't handle the scandal. When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately. "Everleigh is the woman I love," he said. "Finding out you're pregnant with my child would destroy her." He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility. He knew. And he still sent me. I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Ignatz and Everleigh were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach. My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years. "Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm ready to come home."

Seven Years Gone: A New Me

The first thing I felt was a dull throb, the smell of antiseptic, and the piercing brightness of a hospital room. A nurse informed me I was Olivia Vance, and my husband, Alexander Vance, wasn't there. Then she mentioned another "accident" and a woman named Sophia, saying, "You'd think a man like him would have better things to do." My nurse, Emily, told me I had a concussion and a fractured wrist, and that she'd seen me a "dozen times" for pulling "stunts to get his attention." I looked down at a wedding band on my left hand – a cruel joke. I was told it was 2025. My last memory was 2018. Seven missing years. And an unfamiliar face stared back from the reflection-thin, tired, broken. My phone, filled with pictures of a cold mansion, smiling strangers, and a dangerous-looking Alexander Vance, confirmed I was married to him. Then I found the contract: an agreement signed in 2020 to be his public wife for five years in exchange for a settlement. The term was up. Scrolling through desperate, one-sided texts to him, I found a chilling message from two days ago: "He will never love you. You're just a substitute. He's with me tonight." A violent memory hit me: a yacht, Sophia Miller's poisonous voice telling me, "He's tired of you, Olivia. You were just a placeholder." Then her hands on my chest, a sudden shove, and the cold water engulfing me. The bruises, the fractured wrist, the aching ribs – all for a stranger I had apparently loved. My past was a living nightmare, but now, with a blank slate, I knew one thing: I was not bringing that broken woman back.

SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon

For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.