Too Late, My Ex: She Married a Mogul

Too Late, My Ex: She Married a Mogul

Moria Anninger

5.0
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I stood at my engagement party, champagne clinking, Liam's arm around me. Life was perfect. My best friend, Chloe, was there, laughing too loudly, but it was our day. Then Liam took the stage. My heart beat faster, ready for his sweet words. Instead, he announced a "sudden, undeniable change." He said he couldn't marry me. His eyes landed on Chloe. "She's the one." The room gasped. My face burned as everyone stared. My fiancé and best friend, my closest people, publicly humiliated me, smirking as I fled town, stripped of dignity. Years later, having rebuilt my life and married Julian Thorne, a tech mogul, I returned to Lynwood for a quiet work trip. And I saw them. Liam, successful, and Chloe, still his trophy. They sneered, mocking my humble appearance, calling me a failure. When I mentioned my husband, they laughed, accusing me of delusions. Liam then attacked me, snatching Julian' s locket, the symbol of my new life. He broke my hand, screaming I was a liar, a thief. Then his goons dragged me to a dark storage room, locking me in. My hand throbbed, my heart ached with crushing despair. They even found Isabella, the kind staffer who tried to help me, silencing her. Chloe appeared, gloating, telling me I would confess I was a lunatic at their wedding tomorrow, to finally destroy me. How could two people be so cruel, so utterly intent on my ruination? I was trapped, shattered, every hope of justice gone. But as they dragged me into the ballroom, preparing to force my twisted confession, an unexpected presence in the crowd began to rise. Julian.

Introduction

I stood at my engagement party, champagne clinking, Liam's arm around me. Life was perfect. My best friend, Chloe, was there, laughing too loudly, but it was our day.

Then Liam took the stage. My heart beat faster, ready for his sweet words. Instead, he announced a "sudden, undeniable change." He said he couldn't marry me. His eyes landed on Chloe. "She's the one."

The room gasped. My face burned as everyone stared. My fiancé and best friend, my closest people, publicly humiliated me, smirking as I fled town, stripped of dignity. Years later, having rebuilt my life and married Julian Thorne, a tech mogul, I returned to Lynwood for a quiet work trip. And I saw them. Liam, successful, and Chloe, still his trophy. They sneered, mocking my humble appearance, calling me a failure. When I mentioned my husband, they laughed, accusing me of delusions. Liam then attacked me, snatching Julian' s locket, the symbol of my new life. He broke my hand, screaming I was a liar, a thief. Then his goons dragged me to a dark storage room, locking me in.

My hand throbbed, my heart ached with crushing despair. They even found Isabella, the kind staffer who tried to help me, silencing her. Chloe appeared, gloating, telling me I would confess I was a lunatic at their wedding tomorrow, to finally destroy me. How could two people be so cruel, so utterly intent on my ruination? I was trapped, shattered, every hope of justice gone.

But as they dragged me into the ballroom, preparing to force my twisted confession, an unexpected presence in the crowd began to rise. Julian.

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From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny

From Bait to Queen: The Rejected Mate's Destiny

Werewolf

5.0

To the Dark Moon Pack, I wasn't just invisible; I was a stain. Dean Lee, the Alpha designed for my soul, treated me like a shameful secret while he paraded his mistress, Karina, in red silk. The night of the Charity Auction, Dean bought my late mother's moonstone pendant—the only thing I had left of her—for a hundred thousand dollars. I begged him for it. Instead, he clasped it around Karina's ankle. With a cruel laugh, Karina stomped her stiletto heel, crushing the moonstone into dust. Dean just watched, his eyes cold and unfeeling. "It was just a cheap rock," he said. "I'll buy you diamonds." But the cruelty didn't stop at emotional torture. When rogues attacked, Dean used me as live bait to distract them from Karina. He threw me into the Blood Pit, a gladiator arena, to fight a massive Feral wolf while he sat in the VIP box with Karina on his lap. "She won't last three minutes," I heard him say through our dying bond. He watched with bored detachment as I was ripped apart, refusing to save me even as I screamed his name. He saved the mistress and drowned the mate. I died on that arena floor. Or so he thought. Years later, the mysterious and world-renowned artist "H.Y." returned to New York for a gallery opening. When Dean saw me on stage, he rushed forward, tears streaming down his face, trying to claim the wife he had mourned. "Hayley," he choked out, reaching for me. "You're alive. You're mine." I didn't cry. I didn't run. I unleashed a shockwave of ancient White Wolf energy that blasted him across the room, shattering the glass displays. "I don't take orders from dogs anymore," I said, looking down at him. "I, Hayley York, hereby reject you."

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He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

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4.5

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

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