The Orphan's Reckoning

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.

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."

Coma, Betrayal, and Broken Hearts

The monotonous beeping was the first thing. Not the familiar sounds of my life-architectural blueprints or classical music. Then came the blinding glare and the crushing impact. I was on my way to Lily' s school play. When I opened my eyes, a nurse told me I was Mr. Johnson, that I' d been in a coma. My wife, Sarah, and daughter, Lily, were safe, she said, with a pity that chilled me. Ten years. A decade gone. My heart shattered as I searched a tablet for Sarah. She wasn' t the warm woman I knew, but CEO Sarah Miller, a tech titan, always pictured with Alex Chen, her "constant companion." I frantically searched for Lily, finding nothing. It was as if she' d vanished from her mother' s glossy new world. Ignoring hospital staff, I ripped out my IV. Weak and desperate, I fled. I found Lily on a street corner, a ghost of my seven-year-old girl, selling charcoal sketches. Thugs harassed her, a city official threatened to confiscate her work, and then Sarah' s sleek car pulled up. My wife looked at our daughter, not with warmth, but cold annoyance. "Lily, just stop. You' re hopeless." The word echoed, hitting Lily harder than any physical blow. Something inside me snapped. Ten years of helplessness erupted. I attacked the thugs, the official, protecting my daughter. Then, Lily collapsed. Back in a drab hospital, I called Sarah. Her assistant dismissed me: "Ms. Miller is in a very important board meeting." Later, a kind nurse revealed Lily paid for my care, sacrificing everything. My daughter, starving, while her CEO mother was too busy. When Lily visited, gaunt and tired, she tried to lie about an art class, but I knew. She was going back to work the streets for me. My wife was in a board meeting while our daughter gave up her life for mine. Raw guilt and rage consumed me. I vowed to get stronger, to save my daughter.

Once The Bride He Discarded, Now The Love He Can't Forget

Five years of devotion ended when Brynn was left at the altar, watching Richard rush to his true love. Knowing she could never thaw his cold heart, Brynn walked away, ready to start over. After a night of drinking, she woke beside the last man she should ever cross-Nolan, her brother's arch-enemy. As she tried to escape, he caught her, murmuring, "You kissed me all night. Leaving isn't an option." The world saw Nolan as cold and distant, but with Brynn, he indulged her every desire. He even bought her a whole village and held her close, his voice low, deep, and endlessly tempting, his robe falling open to reveal his toned abs. "Want to feel it?"

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

The Stray Heiress Strikes Back

Ten years ago, Elizabeth Kaiser was abandoned by her biological father, cast out of her home like a stray dog. A decade later, she returned as a decorated general of Nation A, wielding immense power and wealth beyond measure. The onlookers waited eagerly for her downfall, only to watch in shock as the elite families of Capitol City bowed before her in reverence. Elizabeth smirked coldly. "Want to chase me? Better ask my fists for permission first!"

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

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.

The Heiress Spoiled by Four Brothers and One Devilish CEO

In her past life, she trusted the wrong people-and betrayed the one man who loved her most. Blinded by lies, she pushed her fiancé into ruin. Yet even as the world turned against him, he forgave her. And in the end, he slaughtered all her enemies, before using the final blade to follow her into death. Now reborn, she swears to rewrite her fate. This time, she tears apart the fake innocents, crushes the traitors, and rises in brilliance-only for one purpose: to win back the heart of the man she once destroyed. But little does she know. He never truly left. From the shadows, he has already laid his trap, created a world where she can only fall-back into his arms. A love once buried in blood and regret will now reignite amidst vengeance, redemption, and fate's cruel game.