The Kidney He Stole: Ava's Reckoning

Wife's Fury, Dynasty To Ashes

On the anniversary of our son's death, I found my husband in our sacred cabin with his pregnant mistress. He sent me their wedding invitation, along with a recording of him calling me "tainted" from the trauma that killed our son, confessing he'd secretly sterilized me to get a "pure" heir. He thought he was starting a new dynasty; I decided to attend the wedding and burn his to the ground.

Ten Years a Lie

My husband, David, and I had been married for ten years, a perfect New York power couple on the outside, a carefully constructed lie within. I used his money, he had his affairs, even a secret child. Our lives ran on parallel tracks, never interfering. It was a cold, silent agreement. Then the school called. An accident. Acid. My son, Liam. I rushed to the nurse's office. Liam was pale, a raw burn on his cheek and neck. Another woman, impeccably dressed, stood there, bored. Olivia Chen, socialite extraordinaire. David's mistress. She offered me a check. "My Leo said it was an accident. Boys will be boys. This should be enough to cover the medical bills and keep you quiet." Then her phone rang. It was David. "Yes, I' m handling the other boy' s mother now," she cooed. My husband was concerned for his mistress and their illegitimate son, not ours. The bracelet on Olivia's wrist, an emerald-studded Miller family heirloom, meant for David's wife, for me, shimmered mockingly. My hand went to my phone. David's voicemail. Again. Nothing. My son was hurt, and my husband wouldn't answer. This wasn't anger; it was a cold, hard hatred. A rage that had simmered for a decade, now boiling over. My family, almost ruined. The Millers saved them, but the price was my marriage to David. He didn't want me; he wanted the inheritance clause in the Miller family trust. His firstborn child would control the bulk of the fortune on their tenth birthday. Liam' s tenth birthday was in three days. In three days, the trust would activate. Liam would be in control. I looked from my son's pained face to the arrogant woman wearing my legacy. A cold calm settled over me. Let them have their moment. Their last three days of freedom.

Choosing Peace: My True Love

The screech of tires, the violent crush of metal-that' s how it ended. Next to me, my husband David, dying, whispered: "I… I wish I'd never met you." Ten years of my life, a decade of one-sided love, erased by his final, brutal regret, echoing a ghost named Emily White. Then, darkness swallowed me whole. I woke up on a university lawn, young again, dressed in a simple white dress I hadn't seen in a decade. And there he was: David Chen, proposing, the king of campus, holding that familiar velvet box. My heart, once soaring at this moment, was now a block of ice. I closed my architecture textbook with a soft snap. "No," I said, the word cutting through the expectant air. His smile froze. "What did you say?" "I said no, David. I won't marry you." I walked away, straight toward Michael Thorne, the quiet, kind engineering student I had been too blind to see. "Michael," I told him, "I know this is sudden. But I want to be with you." Later, a hand grabbed my arm-David. He knew. He'd remembered our past life. "You're punishing me for what I said, aren't you?" he hissed, his eyes burning with familiar fury. He called me a monster, a liar, and swore Emily had saved him from a falling bookshelf, not me. He was wrong. He threw the ring box at my feet, storming away, convinced I was the villain. But for the first time, I felt a strange peace; this time, his story wasn't mine. I knew my second chance had just begun.

When Friends Become Your Cruelest Foes

"Lily, you should do it," Tiffany Hayes purred, her eyes fixed on me in the art academy' s lounge. As the scholarship student, managing our class' s two-million-dollar art fund seemed like a twisted honor, a responsibility the elite kids conveniently dodged. Three years later, at our graduation exhibition-the night my life' s work was finally displayed-my childhood friend, Mark Miller, seized the microphone. "Our class art fund has been mismanaged," he announced, his gaze piercing me. "One point eight million dollars is missing." The dreams I had meticulously built shattered. Every eye in the buzzing gallery turned to me, judging, accusing. Tiffany, Mark' s girlfriend, stood by his side, her feigned sympathy a cold knife twisting inside me. They stripped me bare, painting me a thief, a public spectacle. "I have records of everything," I insisted. "Every dollar is accounted for!" But the projection screen behind him flashed a balance of $1,250.34, sealing my fate. "Just tell us what you did with the money," Tiffany cooed, trying to lure out a confession. "We were friends." Friends? Their betrayal burned hotter than any accusation. They had done this. Set me up. Framed me. The rage and humiliation were suffocating, but a cold resolve began to crystallize within me. They thought they had broken me, but they had just ignited a fire. I walked out of the gallery that night, not in defeat, but with a fierce determination. I would find the truth. I would expose them. And they would pay.

The Secret Life She Hid

My six-year marriage to Sarah was supposed to be a picture of perfect bliss. We were planning an anniversary trip, discussing a future with children, a life built on solid ground. Then, a child' s drawing hidden in her car, labeled "Mommy," shattered my world. It depicted a woman with my wife's long brown hair, and two children named Leo and Mia. Children we didn't have. The whispers I overheard later-Sarah and her mother, talking about "five years" of deceit, a man named David, and those kids-confirmed my worst fears. My beloved wife had a whole other life, a secret family I was unwittingly funding. The "business trips," the late nights, the unexplained cash withdrawals… it all clicked into place, painting me as the delusional fool. The man I thought I was, the life I believed in, crumbled into ash. How could I have been so blind, so utterly duped by the woman I adored? How could someone I trusted completely orchestrate such a monstrous lie? Every cherished memory turned into a new, agonizing layer of betrayal. With nothing left but a cold, burning rage and a profound sense of injustice, I decided: Ethan Patterson had to die. But not in reality. I would disappear, erase myself, and leave her to face the wreckage of the life she had so meticulously built on my unsuspecting heart.

Beyond the Script

The news of Dr. Seraphina Vance' s divorce from Dr. Julian Hayes hit the scientific community like a shockwave. For me, Chloe, Elias Thorne' s hidden partner for seven years, it was a death sentence to the life I had painstakingly built with him. Suddenly, I was faced with a new, brutal mission from the system that brought me here: ensure Elias and Seraphina, the true protagonists, achieve their "happy ending," even if it meant destroying my own. I had to orchestrate their reunion, push the man I loved into another woman's arms, and watch him embrace the woman he was "destined" for, while systematically erasing myself from his life. Worst of all, when Seraphina framed me, manipulating Elias into believing I was incompetent-or worse, malicious-he chose her. He watched me, gasping for air from a severe allergic reaction she triggered, and walked away, choosing his "show" over my life. How could he believe her fabricated lies over the seven years we shared, over the evidence of his own eyes? Now, after sacrificing everything, manipulating events, and nearly dying to fulfill this twisted destiny, I found myself standing on a rooftop, preparing to step off and finally go home, to my real life. But as I looked down, I saw Elias, pure panic on his face, finally understanding. This wasn't a game. It was my final act of self-sacrifice, forcing him to confront the truth of what he' d lost.

Irresistible Seduction: Married For Deception, Loved For Real

Five years into marriage, Hannah caught Vincent slipping into a hotel with his first love-the woman he never forgot. The sight told her everything-he'd married her only for her resemblance to his true love. Hurt, she conned him into signing the divorce papers and, a month later, said, "Vincent, I'm done. May you two stay chained together." Red-eyed, he hugged her. "You came after me first." Her firm soon rocketed toward an IPO. At the launch, Vincent watched her clasp another man's hand. In the fitting room, he cornered her, tears burning in his eyes. "Is he really that perfect? Hannah, I'm sorry... marry me again."

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.

Contract Marriage With My Billionaire Boss

"We're friends," I said, voice barely steady. Aaron's lips curled, slow and cruel. "No, we're not." "Friendship's too pure for this." His hand slid to my waist, hot and claiming as he yanked me flush against him. "Do friends kiss like this?" He kissed me. Hard. Possessive. "Or grab each other like this?" A squeeze to my ass. A gasp. "Or think filthy little thoughts?" His breath burned against my ear. "Touch themselves to it?" My cheeks flamed. My body betrayed me. "Stop lying, Venus." His voice was a growl. "I feel it. Every time I'm near you." I whispered, "But you don't even like me." His smile was pure sin. "I don't have to like you to fuck you." Then the offer: "Let's get it out of our system. No lies. No strings. Just truth." He grabbed my chin, eyes lit with hunger. "Say the word, princess." A whisper against my lips- "I'll ruin you." And God help me... I wanted him to. --------- Aaron Sinclair needs a bride to claim his inheritance. Venus Carter needs a miracle to save her dying mother. What begins as a cold contract marriage spirals into a dangerous game of buried trauma, stolen identities, and forbidden attachment. He's ruthless, closed off, and refuses to love. She's resilient, lost, and refuses to stay unloved. But when secrets unravel revealing a stolen childhood, a tragic past, and a vengeful stepmother, their fake marriage is the only thing standing between them and destruction. In a world ruled by power and silence, will love dare to speak first or break them both instead?

My Irresistible Alpha

She gave him her innocence. He gave her a mark she could never escape. Five years ago, Elena's world shattered when she was betrayed by everyone she loved. Left homeless and heartbroken, she found fleeting solace in the arms of a devastatingly handsome stranger-a single night of raw, primal passion that became her secret touchstone of strength. Now, she's rebuilt her life from the ashes, fighting to provide for her young son. But every door she tries to open slams shut, sabotaged by a powerful, unseen force. That force is Dax Valiente. Billionaire. Alpha. Obsession. As a human girl, Elena has never expected what awaits her when she walks into the Valiente Group. That ruthless man was not just her new Boss, but the werewolf king who wants her to be his.

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.

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.