Reborn Into His Regret

His Empire, My Vengeful Return

My husband watched our newborn son die on the cold hospital floor and called it a "relief." He threw a check for $100,000 at my feet, telling me to disappear so he could marry his mistress. He thought I was just a poor nobody he could discard like trash. I lay in a pool of blood, clutching my lifeless baby, while his mistress, Clarabelle, laughed and kicked me. They had barred the doctors from entering, turning my delivery room into a torture chamber. Kenton looked at the tiny, still body and sneered. "He was just baggage, Kaylene. Now I can finally focus on my future with someone who has status." He believed the lie I had maintained for eight years-that I was an orphan with nothing. He had no idea that the "startup capital" he used to build his empire came from my trust fund. Or that the VIP investor he was desperate to impress was actually my father. Just as they turned to leave, the delivery room doors crashed open. My father, billionaire Harold Mcneil, stepped in, his eyes burning with a terrifying fury as he saw his daughter broken and bleeding. Clarabelle' s face went pale as she realized who he was. I wiped my tears and stood up. The grieving mother died with her son. Now, only the heiress remains, and I will burn their world to ash.

Pancakes for a Stranger's Love

My husband vanished on our fifth anniversary, leaving me frantic with worry. I thought something terrible had happened until a stranger named Jayda sent me a photo. He wasn't missing; he was in a penthouse, flipping pancakes for her with a smile he hadn't shown me in years. When I tracked them down, Bennett didn't apologize. He shoved me away to protect his pregnant mistress, looking at me with pure disgust. "You're a liability, Iris," he spat, cutting off my access to our bank accounts. "Stop being hysterical." He laughed when I clutched my head in agony, claiming I was faking pain just to ruin his new happiness. He didn't know my "headaches" weren't a plea for attention. They were Stage IV Glioblastoma. While he was buying her the diamond necklace I had always wanted, I was receiving a terminal diagnosis. I looked at the man I sacrificed my entire career for and felt a cold, final resolve. "Fine," I whispered, tossing the medical report in the trash where he wouldn't see it. "Send the divorce papers. I'm done."

Rejected By My Alpha, Claimed By My Crown

My mate, Alpha Damien, was holding a sacred naming ceremony for his heir. The only problem? He was celebrating a pup he had with Lyra, a rogue he brought into our pack. And I, his true mate, four months pregnant with his actual heir, was the only one not invited. When I confronted her, she clawed her own arm, drew blood, and screamed that I had attacked her. Damien saw her performance and didn't even look at me. He snarled, using his Alpha's Command to force me to leave, the power of our bond twisted into a weapon against me. Later, she attacked me for real, making me fall. As blood bloomed on my dress, threatening our child's life, she tossed her own pup onto a rug and screamed that I had tried to kill him. Damien burst in, saw me bleeding on the floor, and didn't hesitate. He scooped Lyra's screaming pup into his arms and sprinted away to find a healer, leaving me and his true heir to die. But as I lay there, my mother's voice echoed in my mind through our own link. My family's escort was waiting for me just beyond the territory border. He was about to find out that the Omega he threw away was actually the princess of the most powerful pack in the world.

His Betrayal, My Billion-Dollar Rise

My husband, Liam, a tech mogul, was supposed to be home for a quiet Christmas Eve, just us and our baby on the way. Instead, I watched from the window as he stepped out of his car, not alone, but with Sarah Miller, a junior employee from his company. And she was pregnant, her belly as round as mine. He walked in, pulled divorce papers from his briefcase, and flatly told me, "Sarah is pregnant. It' s my child." My mind reeled as he explained his plan: he would marry her temporarily to legitimize their child and protect his reputation, then divorce her and remarry me. He told me I was leaving with nothing. Sarah stood by, smirking, dismissing my child as a "complication." My heart shattered. I realized the man I loved was shallow and selfish, valuing his reputation above all else, even his own child. Could I let my baby carry his name, his blood, his legacy of casual cruelty? No. With a cold calm, I signed the papers, giving him the clean break he wanted. He thought I was broken and dependent, but he had no idea of my secret life as "Perla," the anonymous digital artist with a fortune he knew nothing about. I transferred my wealth, wiped my laptop, and walked out, leaving him and his lie behind, determined to protect my child from his darkness.

His Penny-Pinching, My Power

The searing pain from my C-section was nothing compared to the shock of my husband' s first words. "Did the doctor give you the final bill? The C-section costs more. You need to cover it." I had just brought our daughter, Lily, into the world, a difficult birth that required emergency surgery to save her life. Yet, for Tom, it was simply an "extra cost" for my body. This was his idea of "AA parenting"-Active and Accountable, splitting every child-related expense down the middle. What I thought was a progressive vision of equality quickly morphed into a financial battlefield where every diaper, every ounce of formula, became an itemized debt. When we moved into my parents' house for recovery, hoping for support, Tom saw only a "cost-saving opportunity." He ate their food, used their electricity, and never offered a dime, all while sending me spreadsheets for Lily' s pacifier and baby lotion. He never changed a diaper. He never comforted his crying daughter. He just watched TV, claiming a "long day." It became agonizingly clear that in his eyes, he was merely a "financial partner" in a project he was already losing interest in. The final straw came when I overheard a neighbor revealing his true feelings: he' d wanted a boy, because it would be "simpler, cheaper in the long run." His penny-pinching wasn' t about equality; it was about the supposed "lesser investment" of a daughter. So, when he and his mother publicly shamed me on social media, accusing me of mental instability, I didn't hold back. I posted screenshots of his vile texts, exposing his calculated cruelty to the entire neighborhood. I was done being the silent victim. I was going to fight back, and I was going to win.

The Price of His Deception

The soft glow of three monitors was my world, lines of code and complex algorithms my language. Tomorrow was the IPO, the culmination of years of tireless work building Nexus from the ground up with my live-in boyfriend, Mark Davis, CEO of ConnectCorp. But then, the office door hissed open, revealing Chloe Miller, Mark' s new Head of Product and my old college rival. Her voice, dripping with fake sweetness, announced, "The board and I have had a discussion. We've decided to let you go." I blinked, the words echoing, "You're firing me? The day before the IPO?" She sneered, calling me redundant, uncommitted, just a "coder." Then, with a predatory smile, she whispered, "I'm going to be the First Lady of Tech... You were just a gold-digger who got lucky. Your time is up." Rage surged as I reached for my phone to call Mark, but Chloe snatched it, answering and feigning distress. "Mark? Oh, thank god," she sobbed into the phone, "It's Ava... she's going crazy. She's threatening me... I'm scared." The crowd gathered, their judgmental eyes painting me as the unstable villain. Mark stormed in, his handsome face contorted with fury, not at Chloe, but at me. "What did you do to her?" he snarled, immediately comforting Chloe. "She's lying," I pleaded, "She fired me." "I heard the whole thing, Ava! You're harassing my Head of Product. I can't believe you." Then, he slapped me. The sting on my cheek was nothing compared to the shock that cleared everything: the late-night meetings, Chloe's perfume, their triumphant glances. "You're sleeping with her," I stated, not a question. He didn't deny it, dismissing my years of dedication. "You were just the help," he spat, "A glorified typist." "A code monkey," Chloe added, snuggling into his side. The final blow came when I demanded my share, only for Chloe to brandish a marriage certificate-hers and Mark's, dated three months ago. "The one we have is a fake, Ava," Mark confessed, his voice devoid of emotion. "It was just a piece of paper to make you feel secure. It never meant anything." My world shattered. "You have no equity, Ava. You were an employee. And now, you're a fired employee." He tossed me a grimy key, "As a severance package, you can have our first apartment. The one you loved so much with the leaky ceiling." They wanted the core Nexus algorithms, the encryption keys, everything. I pulled the small, black USB drive from my laptop. Then, with all my strength, I threw it between them. "You want it? Find it." I walked away, leaving the wreckage of my old life behind, a spark of cold fury igniting a new resolve.

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.

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.

Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

After Leaving, Her Three Brothers Beg For Forgiveness

Kathryn was the true daughter, but Jolene stole her life and set her up for ruin. After a brutal kidnapping scheme, Kathryn's loyalty to her brothers and fiancé was met with cruel betrayal. Narrowly escaping, she chose to cut all ties and never forgive them. Then she shocked the world: the miracle doctor for the elite, a top-tier hacker, a financial mastermind, and now the untouchable star her family could only watch from afar. Her brothers begged, her parents pleaded, her ex wanted her back-Kathryn exposed them all. The world gasped as the richest man confessed his love for her.

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.