The Underestimated Genius: A National Asset

The Runaway Wife's Secret Heir

I stood alone at the center of my art gallery opening, clutching a glass of warm champagne, while the guests whispered behind their hands. My husband, the Capo of the Chicago Outfit, wasn't there. A breaking news alert on my phone explained why. It was a high-definition photo of Dante shielding his mistress, Isabella, from the rain. He was touching her with a protective possessiveness he had never once shown me. Then came his text: "Isabella needed me. Go home." That was the moment the cage door unlocked. I didn't go home to cry. I went to his office the next morning with a stack of papers disguised as "gallery insurance forms." While Isabella sat on his desk, mocking me for being a boring housewife, Dante was too annoyed to read the fine print. He just wanted me gone so he could get back to her. He signed the divorce decree. He signed the asset dissolution. Most importantly, without looking, he signed the irrevocable relinquishment of parental rights. I walked out with my freedom, but fate had a cruel sense of humor. That night, I stared at a positive pregnancy test. I was carrying the Sovrano heir he had always demanded. And he had just legally signed away his right to ever know his child. I fled to the Swiss Alps, vanishing into the snow to raise my baby away from his world of blood and bullets. I thought I was safe, until six months later. Dante hadn't just sent men to look for me. He had burned his own shipping empire to the ground, destroying his status as King, just to prove he would trade it all for the wife he threw away.

Beyond Betrayal: A Billionaire's Fall

I was an artist who gave up my career for my tech CEO husband, Jakob. Pregnant with our child, I believed our life was a perfect dream built on his genius. That dream shattered when I discovered his genius was a lie, built on stolen code. Then I overheard his real plan: to drug me, publicly ruin me, and auction off my body after murdering our unborn child. At our anniversary gala, he forced drugged champagne into my hand. I watched him destroy my art-my last dream-before I collapsed, losing our baby on the cold museum floor. They left me for dead, having taken everything-my love, my art, my dignity, and my child. After I survived, I walked into the interrogation room where he was being held. I showed him a fabricated DNA report proving the baby was his, alongside a real document proving he'd had a secret vasectomy. He broke down, believing he'd murdered the son he never knew he could have. "I'll do anything," he sobbed. "Then sign these," I said calmly, pushing the divorce papers and a full transfer of his billion-dollar empire across the table.

My Stolen Daughter, My Shattered Life

I am Joanna Haney, heiress to a New York real estate empire. I had a perfect life with my husband, Brad, and our three-year-old daughter, Chloe. Then, a single sentence from a doctor shattered my world. "Chloe isn't your daughter." The truth was a nightmare. My husband and my best friend, Carla, had swapped our babies at birth. My real daughter was abandoned while I unknowingly raised theirs. They plotted to have me declared insane and locked away. At Chloe's birthday party, they publicly humiliated me, turning the child I raised against me until she screamed that she wished Carla was her mother. My husband and best friend saw me as nothing more than an obstacle to be permanently removed. But they underestimated me. With the secret help of Brad's own mother, I orchestrated my escape to Paris. Now, I will find my real daughter, and they will pay for every single lie.

A Mother's Vengeful Heart

The world turned into a twisted metal scream. One moment, I was humming along in the car with my son, Ethan, in the back. The next, a violent jolt, a blinding pain, and then - silence. Too much silence. My son was gone. My husband, David, pulled me from the wreck, a mask of panic on his face. But in the emergency room, as I drifted in and out of consciousness, his voice from the hallway cut through the fog: "Just make sure it' s done. No loose ends. The problem is solved. Now I can finally move forward without any… distractions." A distraction? Was our son just a problem to him? The man I loved, the father of my child, had orchestrated his death. And when I woke from surgery, he delivered another cruel blow, a lie that ripped away my ability to ever be a mother again. He buried Ethan without me, dismissed his toys, and called my love for our child an "obsession." The grief I felt became a chilling clarity. He hadn't just lost our son; he had murdered him. And then, at night, I found his hidden life-another woman, Victoria, and another son, Alex. An email from David, dated the day Ethan was born, called my son an "error." How could he have done this? How could his hate run so deep? Every moment, every memory, was re-framed by this horrific betrayal. The man I married was a monster, his grief a sickening performance. My son's last drawing, a simple wish for his daddy to play catch, solidified my purpose. I was no longer a grieving mother; I was an instrument of justice. My work was just beginning.

When Her Secret Son Blew Up My Life

I waited three long years for Jen, my fiancée, to return from her "deep cover assignment," dreaming of the wedding we' d planned. Then, I overheard her icy voice in my own home office, admitting she' d hidden a pregnancy and given birth to a two-year-old son during her so-called mission, all while plotting to use me to secure a future for her family. The next morning, Jen and her accomplice, Drew, shamelessly brought her son to my house, maintaining their elaborate lie, while Drew set me up for a malicious scheme involving the boy' s severe allergy. Jen watched as I was unjustly accused, choosing to believe Drew over me, and then abandoned me, leaving me injured and alone on my kitchen floor. Drowning in her betrayal and the crushing weight of being a fool, a desperate coldness settled over me. That' s when I picked up the phone, calling my powerful grandfather, ready to accept the arranged marriage offer I' d always rejected, a contract that promised a way out, no matter the cost.

A Bitter Pill Called Regret

My head throbbed as I cooked Marcus's favorite meal. It was our tenth anniversary, a milestone I' d hoped would bring some semblance of peace to a decade marred by his growing distance. But Marcus never came home. Instead, an Instagram notification flashed: Skyler Reed, beaming beside my husband, champagne in hand, captioned: "Celebrating new beginnings with Mr. T!" When I finally reached him, his voice was dismissive, cold: "You've let yourself go, Ellie. Skyler's a breath of fresh air." The casual cruelty was a physical blow, leaving me reeling, a sudden nosebleed staining the anniversary tablecloth I' d prepared for a dinner that would never happen. Who was this woman I had become, a ghost of my former self, constantly tired, always bleeding? Why did I allow myself to be chipped away, humiliated, while he flaunted his affair so brazenly? Then, the final, devastating cut: my only comfort, my loyal dog Gus, brutally run down after Skyler maliciously kicked him into the street. My world went black, only to be replaced by the harsh hospital lights and a grim diagnosis: glioblastoma. Marcus, now belatedly awake to his ruin, would beg me to fight. Yet, the profound irony was a bitter pill: his decade of calculated cruelty had left me with no fight left. But though I was dying, this story was far from over-just not in the way anyone expected.

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.

Free At Last, Untouchable Now

For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts. Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son. In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way. Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged. Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind. When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."

From Trophy Wife to Scientific Queen

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

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.

The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

Brenna lived with her adoptive parents for twenty years, enduring their exploitation. When their real daughter appeared, they sent Brenna back to her true parents, thinking they were broke. In reality, her birth parents belonged to a top circle that her adoptive family could never reach. Hoping Brenna would fail, they gasped at her status: a global finance expert, a gifted engineer, the fastest racer... Was there any end to the identities she kept hidden? After her fiancé ended their engagement, Brenna met his twin brother. Unexpectedly, her ex-fiancé showed up, confessing his love...

She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen

Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"