The Wife Who Came Back To Kill

Leaving the Billionaire's Shadow

I woke up to the sterile silence of my master bedroom, 27 again. This wasn' t a dream; it was my second chance to escape a life everyone else called a fairytale. On my wife Olivia' s side of the king-sized bed, the sheets were undisturbed. She was Olivia Hayes, the tech mogul, a name that carried weight. To the outside world, I was Ethan Miller, the lucky architect married to a billionaire, but looking at our family photo, a chilling emptiness consumed me. I saw a stranger with a forced smile standing next to a woman who was never there, and two children whose affection I' d lost to Liam Thorne, Olivia' s childhood sweetheart. Years of being a shadow, my efforts ignored, my presence taken for granted-I wouldn' t live that life again. I found the file I was looking for: Divorce_Agreement.pdf. After printing two copies, I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name that haunted my previous life. Liam Thorne. He picked up on the third ring, his voice thick with sleep. "Who is this?" "It' s Ethan Miller," I said, devoid of emotion. A confused pause, then. "Ethan? Do you know what time it is? Is Olivia okay?" "Olivia is fine," I replied. "I' m calling about something else. I have divorce papers here. I' m ready to sign them. I want to give you everything. Olivia, the children, this house. It' s all yours."

My Deceased Unborn Nephew

My sister-in-law was pregnant. She said that in our village, giving birth was just a matter of spreading your legs and pushing. But I was worried and insisted that she go for a check-up. It turned out that she had a high-risk pregnancy and needed a C-section to save her and the baby's lives. My nephew was born weak and sickly, and every time he got sick, my sister-in-law would blame me for making her go to the hospital and causing him to be born prematurely and injured. He grew to hate me and eventually killed me by poisoning my water. When I woke up, I was back at home and asked for my opinion on the matter. This time, I won't interfere. I want to see what kind of thing she can give birth to.

The Wife They Broke

My husband and son were pathologically obsessed with me, constantly testing my love by showering attention on another woman, Kassandra. My jealousy and misery were their proof of my devotion. Then came the car accident. My hand, the one that wrote award-winning film scores, was severely crushed. But Jacob and Anton chose to prioritize Kassandra' s minor head injury, leaving my career in ruins. They watched me, waiting for tears, anger, jealousy. They got nothing. I was a statue, my face a placid mask. My silence unsettled them. They continued their cruel game, celebrating Kassandra' s birthday lavishly, while I sat in a secluded corner, watching them. Jacob even ripped my deceased mother' s gold locket from my neck to give to Kassandra, who then deliberately crushed it under her heel. This wasn't love. It was a cage. My pain was their sport, my sacrifice their trophy. Lying on the cold hospital bed, waiting, I felt the love I had nurtured for years die. It withered and turned to ash, leaving behind something hard and cold. I was done. I would not fix them. I would escape. I would destroy them.

Reborn as the Villain's Wife

I died in a mangled wreck of metal and fire, abandoned by the man I thought was my soulmate. But instead of the void, I woke up pinned against a cold marble wall, staring into the turbulent, storm-gray eyes of Damian Vincent. This was the night I destroyed my life. In my past world, I spat in Damian's face and ran into the arms of Eddie, a parasitic loser who was secretly plotting with my cousin Jill to strip me of my inheritance. My "escape" turned into a slow-motion suicide. My brother Donavan died in a horrific car crash while racing to save me from another one of my messes. Damian, consumed by a toxic mix of grief and vengeance, crushed the Nelson family empire until my father was a broken man. I spent years as a drugged-up social pariah, finally dying alone while the people I trusted laughed at my funeral. The most bitter realization didn't hit me until the end. The "controlling monster" I spent years fighting was the only person who ever truly protected me. I had traded a man who would burn the world for me for a man who would burn me for the world. Opening my eyes three years in the past, I find myself back at the airport, the rain lashing against the windows. My brother is pleading with me to run, and Damian is standing there, braced for the slap he thinks is coming. But I don't strike him. I press my palm to his burning cheek and give him the only piece of my soul he couldn't buy. "I'm not going anywhere, Dami. Keep this as my collateral." The game has changed. This time, I'm not the victim-I'm the one holding the match.

My Quiet Wife Is An Elite Genius

I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts. The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise. "She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient." I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion. He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation. "You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride." I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage. Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand. Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world. "I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."

The High Price Of Father's Freedom

I was at a high-end law school mixer, hiding behind a pillar and eyeing the shrimp buffet because my bank account was empty and my fridge contained nothing but expired milk. My father’s name was a national headline for all the wrong reasons, and my only goal was to survive law school without being recognized. That’s when the room went silent for the arrival of Armond Woodward, the billionaire COO of a global media empire. I froze, because seven years ago in Paris, he was Armond Chevalier, the sweet art student I’d shared a life with. Now, he was a cold-eyed predator in a bespoke suit, and he was staring directly at me like I was a missing asset he’d finally located. I tried to escape, but the walls were closing in. My tuition payment was forty-eight hours late, and my father was facing a new indictment that would keep him in prison for the rest of his life. While a rich classmate named Miles tried to "save" me by parading me around like a trophy, Armond was working in the shadows. He didn't just offer help; he bought my student loans and my father’s legal liens, effectively making himself my sole creditor. The realization hit me like a physical blow when Armond cornered me in his private elevator. He knew about my broken apartment lock, my ramen-noodle dinners, and every cent I owed. He hadn't just found me by accident; he had been watching me drown for years, waiting for the exact moment I became desperate enough to be useful. "I've been waiting for you to hit bottom, Rose," he whispered, using the private name from our past as he trapped me in the back of his black SUV. With the threat of a two-million-dollar restitution fee hanging over my father's head and the prosecutors closing in, Armond laid out his final terms. He didn't want an apology or a second chance at love; he needed a wife to secure his family trust and defeat a hostile takeover, and I was the only person with enough debt to be completely controlled. "Marry me, Abbey. A three-year contract, and I make all of this go away." I looked at the man who had destroyed my life just to own it and realized that to save my family, I had to walk straight into the golden cage he had built for me.

After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Invisible To Her Bully

Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible. Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully. During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin. As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah. Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies? Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside.

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.

Rising From Ashes: The Heiress They Tried To Erase

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

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...

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.