The Blind Wife Who Saw Everything

Not Just A Nanny: The Genius Returns

I spent five years as the perfect wife to Easton Harrington, smoothing his midnight-blue ties and fading into the wallpaper of his massive estate. I thought I was the heart of our family, but I was really just a ghost in a sensible beige dress. The illusion shattered at a charity gala when Easton’s "family friend," Georgina, appeared in a gown that matched his suit perfectly. While they basked in the flashbulbs as a golden couple, I was literally pushed into the velvet ropes by a cameraman. No one noticed. Then my four-year-old son, Holt, slapped my hand away in front of the city's elite. "Don't touch me! You're not my mom, you're just the nanny. Daddy said so." The room went silent, but Easton didn't defend me. He just looked annoyed that I was causing a scene, making a sharp shooing motion for me to take the boy away. Beside him, Georgina feigned shock while her eyes crinkled in pure amusement. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a placeholder. They had stripped me of my dignity and even my child's love, treating my five years of devotion like a temporary staff position. I didn't scream. I just slid off the Harrington heirloom ring, tossed it into a fountain, and walked out into the night. Easton thinks I’m a penniless housewife who won’t last a week without his credit cards. He doesn't know that I’m Dr. Althea Morrison, the "prodigy" researcher his company has been begging to hire. I'm not asking for alimony, and I'm not begging for a second chance. I’m returning to the lab to build an empire that will bring his to its knees.

His Robot Love, Her Broken Heart

For five years, New York society envied me, Ava Riley, the perfectly devoted wife to tech titan Liam Carter. Though legally blind, I felt his love in every touch, every whispered word, convinced I was the luckiest woman alive. But one night, a searing pain shot through my head, a shocking kaleidoscope of color exploded behind my eyelids, and then-I could see. My vision, blurry but real, focused on the bed. It wasn't Liam on top of me. It was a faceless, flawless robot, moving with the practiced intimacy I believed belonged to my husband. Then I saw Liam across the room, wrapped around a perfect, lifelike doll-his adopted sister, Sophia. Every intimate moment of our five-year marriage, every cherished touch, had been a vile, mechanical lie. The truth crashed down: I was just a blind prop in his twisted obsession, a placeholder for the woman he truly desired. When I confronted this horrifying reality, Sophia pushed me down the stairs, and I lost our baby. But Liam' s concern wasn't for me. He protected Sophia, dismissing my pain, our child, and even me, as collateral damage, painting me as an "emotionally unstable liar" to cover their tracks. How could the man I loved betray me so utterly? How could my own sacrifice have led to such a depraved deception? My heart didn't just break; it became a cold, hard stone of disbelief and fury. Lying in that hospital bed, rage burning through my soul, I ripped up Liam' s seven-figure "hush money" check, looked Sophia directly in her astonished eyes, and declared, "I' m divorcing him. And I' m not going quietly. I' m going to take everything."

Thirty-Six Hours To Save Her

I woke up to a familiar, cheap motel ceiling. Today was the day Chloe and I were supposed to elope. But this wasn' t just any morning. I'd lived this day before. Ten years ago, on this exact date, Chloe died saving me in a fatal car crash. Now, I'm back, haunted by a chilling ultimatum: "Thirty-six hours. Three deepest regrets. Fix them, or she stays dead." The weight of a future where Chloe was miserable, her dreams crushed, hangs heavy. I watch her vibrant, younger self, unaware of the gilded cage her life will become. Her dismissive words cut, knowing the simmering unhappiness beneath them. She' s walking blindly into a future controlled by her parents and a manipulative lover. How can I save her from a fate she doesn't know exists? How do I dismantle her family' s plans and expose the man she thinks she loves, without destroying her trust? My undying love for her, once a quiet ache, is now an impossible race against a ticking clock. Can I truly rewrite her destiny and allow her to become the person she was meant to be? Armed with foreknowledge and a broken heart, I embark on a desperate pilgrimage of selfless acts. I'm not trying to win her love. I'm fighting to set her free, even if it costs me everything.

No Sweet Sixteen Only Bitter Betrayal

My Sweet Sixteen was supposed to be a dream. I was Scarlett, a golden child, engaged to my childhood sweetheart Julian, and protected by my powerful brother Ethan. Our lives were perfectly aligned, part of an influential dynasty. But then, a science experiment gone wrong left me disfigured and screaming. The intern, Brianna, who caused it, seemed to vanish, destined for jail. My brother and fiancé swore revenge, their initial protectiveness a comforting blanket. Yet, strange, mocking voices whispered in my head: "They're impressed by her. They'll fall for her. Hard." Soon, Brianna was "sick," and Ethan and Julian abandoned my hospital bedside to rush to hers. My calls went to voicemail, my care diminished, and then I was framed for attacking her. Julian dissolved our engagement, calling me unstable. I was banished to a forgotten wing, then a rundown halfway house, forced into grueling labor. The lowest point came when they held me under icy water, demanding an apology for a crime I didn't commit. Why abandon me, their Scarlett, for this woman who ruined my life? Was I just an inconvenience, a damaged relic of a past they wanted to forget? The voices in my head revealed the shocking truth: "It was a diversion. You were a pawn. Everything – your suffering – was a strategic move." My pain wasn't about love or betrayal; it was a cold, calculated sacrifice for power. With this sickening clarity, I refused their hollow apologies and offers to "restore" my life. I walked away from their gilded cage, leaving my old self and their lies behind. Now, free from their toxic influence, I begin a new chapter, far from the corrupt city, ready to redefine my own destiny.

The Sister Who Stabbed, The Heir Who Fell

The lawyer’s pen clicked, signaling the finality of my parents' second divorce, but for me, Emilia, it was just the eerie echo of a past life that had ended with my younger sister, Sophia, stabbing me seven times, and a brutal existence under the ruthless Isabella Vanderbilt. This time, I had to escape Isabella's grasp, so I deliberately plunged down the stairs, disfiguring myself, knowing Isabella would never accept "damaged goods" as an heir. My father, Richard, confirmed my desperate gamble: "Isabella will never accept damaged goods!" I stayed with my kind mother, Linda, and we built a new, humble life away from that toxic world. But then Sophia, now a condescending teenager, reappeared, flaunting her new life with Isabella, subtly reminding me of my "missed potential." The façade of peace shattered when Sophia sent literal thugs to abduct me, twisting my mother’s arm and breaking it right before my eyes. My mom, Linda, screamed in agony, her broken arm a visceral pain that ripped through me. As I was dragged into a black SUV, the metallic taste of terror filled my mouth, utterly desperate and confused. Why would my own sister go so far, inflicting such harm on our own mother? Amidst the chaos, hidden from Sophia’s triumphant gaze, I fumbled for my emergency phone. I dialed a number I had only memorized in secret, a last resort: the private line of my estranged grandmother, Eleanor Ainsworth, a name that commanded respect even in the darkest corners of New York society. This time, everything would be different.

Lose In CEO's Love Tricks

For many years now, Carolyn had been having the same wild dream of intense, passionate moments with a strange man. Everything about the dreams was as vivid as real life, though she could never recall the stranger’s face. To be clear, she had no memory whatsoever of that one day seven years ago. And so it remained…until Derrick appeared. Now the key to unlocking this lost memory seemed to have finally emerged. Would the secrets buried deep within her mind be revealed? When the truth emerges, would it change her normal life for good?

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.

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

Reborn And Remade: Pursued By The Billionaire

In her previous life, Kimberly endured the betrayal of her husband, the cruel machinations of an evil woman, and the endless tyranny of her in-laws. It culminated in the bankruptcy of her family, and ultimately, her death. After being reborn, she resolved to seek retribution against those who had wronged her, and ensure her family's prosperity. To her shock, the most unattainable man from her past suddenly set his sights on her. "You may have overlooked me before, but I shall capture your heart this time around."

The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me. Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years. The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought. I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction. With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun.

My Alpha's Heartless Contract Wife

"Anya, a 'wolfless' in a world of powerful werewolves, was invisible, drowning her sorrows and desperately lonely. One drunken text, a desperate cry for attention, accidentally reached the Alpha, pulling her into his terrifying orbit. Now, she's trapped, a pawn in his game, forced to warm his bed while he waits for his true mate, her heart breaking with every stolen moment. As a 'wolfless' in the Blackwood Pack, Anya felt like an outsider, always yearning for a connection. One night, in a drunken haze, a misdirected text meant for her best friend landed in Alpha Declan Blackwood's inbox: ""Send me something hot."" Minutes later, the most powerful, terrifying man in the Pack stood at her door, claiming her with a possessive kiss that ignited a dangerous, unwanted fire. The next morning, his cold indifference shattered her world. Publicly humiliated and instantly fired, Anya became a pariah. Her dying mother's urgent need for a million-dollar heart transplant left her with an impossible choice: accept the Alpha's cold, transactional marriage proposal or watch her mother die. She became his ""placeholder"" wife, a contract, not a partner, all while battling a confusing attraction to the man who treated her as property. Why did he demand her, only to remind her constantly of her worthlessness, especially when everyone knew he waited for his true mate? Her world crumbled when she overheard Declan tell his returning ""true mate,"" Kristin Larsen, that Anya was ""just a substitute."" Despite the crushing betrayal and a strange, unyielding pull, Anya, fueled by her mother's desperate need, vowed to survive this gilded cage and reclaim her life before she lost herself completely."

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.