Rewriting Her Destiny

The Rejected Healer: Her Rise as the White Wolf

I carried a thermal container of stew to my fiancé's private estate, worried he was stressed about our upcoming pack merger. Instead of a meditation retreat, I walked into a nightmare. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Ivan playing on the rug with a secret son, while a woman named Kiera watched like a queen. I froze as I heard Ivan's voice float through the glass. "Aliana is just a placeholder. She smells like antiseptic and fear. Once I get the territory, I'll reject her." My heart shattered, but the knife twisted deeper when he laughed about my parents. "Her folks pay for this villa, Kiera. They know. They prefer a strong alliance over a disappointment of a daughter." My own parents were drugging me to steal my medical patents. They thought I was weak. They thought I was just a submissive Healer. I wiped my tears and unlocked his safe with the admin codes he forgot I installed. I took the financial records, the fake DNA tests, and the theft agreements. That night, at his secret son's birthday party, I didn't bring a gift. I brought a projector. I played their confession for the entire Council, severed the mate bond publicly, and vanished into the North. Six months later, a ruined, homeless Ivan crawled into my clinic, begging for the legendary White Wolf to save him. He looked up, shocked to see me standing there, glowing with silver power. "You rejected the gift of the Goddess," I smiled, letting my Alpha aura crush him to the floor. "Now, get out."

Healed By Another: Rejecting The Ruthless Don

I spent a year in a Swiss asylum, swallowing pills to cure a madness that didn’t exist. It turned out the medication was just sugar. My insanity was a script written by Jaxon Francis, the Don of New York, just so he could marry a Cartel princess without his ward getting in the way. When I finally escaped and tried to leave him, his new wife staged her own kidnapping and framed me. Jaxon didn’t ask for proof. He didn’t look at the evidence. Instead, he tied a rope around my ankles and dragged me behind a helicopter across the jagged rocks of the Wastelands. He held his wife close and watched as my skin was flayed and my bones shattered, believing he was executing a traitor. He left me for dead in the dirt, convinced he had cleansed his empire. I took the hush money his mother threw at me and vanished, letting Alina Phillips die in that field. Three years later, I returned to New York as "Echo," the elusive artist the world was obsessing over. At a charity auction, Jaxon bid one hundred million dollars for a painting of a woman’s scarred back, desperate to buy redemption for the ghost he thought he killed. He chased me into the rain, begging for a second chance, swearing he had destroyed his wife for me. I looked at the man who once held my heart and simply smiled. Then I turned to the man standing beside me. "Jaxon, meet Darwin," I said, linking my arm through his. "My husband."

The Lie My Fiancé Created

For three years, I believed my fiancé, Daryl, was my savior. He rescued me after a brutal attack-secretly orchestrated by my own sister, Kenisha-shattered my hands and my dreams of being a concert pianist. He gave me a perfect, protected life. Then I discovered the truth on his laptop. I wasn't his beloved; I was "Asset: FB-01." A walking collection of prime organs, being groomed until my sister needed a new heart. My heart. The man I loved became a monster. He forced me to take five pregnancy tests, snarling that he'd "get that thing out" of me himself if I compromised his investment. He locked me in the trunk of his car and later abandoned me on a collapsing rope bridge. To finally break me, he drowned the stray kitten I'd rescued in the washing machine. "You hurt my Kenisha," he roared. "Now you'll know what it feels like to lose something you care about." My entire life with him had been a lie. I was just livestock being fattened for slaughter, and my hands-the ones he once called magic-were just a "non-essential component." After he drained my blood for the sister who wanted me dead, I went home and buried my cat. Then I packed a single bag, booked a flight to London, and vanished. They had created a monster. Now, they were about to meet her.

The Framed Heiress's Unyielding Comeback

For ten years, I was my family' s living scandal. After being framed for a crime that nearly destroyed our company, I was cast as the pariah, forced to serve the very people who had stolen my future. At my parents' 40th anniversary party, the humiliation reached its peak. My brother, the CEO who built his career on my ruin, stood at the podium. "Can you not do one simple thing without creating a disaster?" he hissed at me in front of everyone. "For one night, can you just try not to be a complete and utter liability?" His fiancée, the true architect of my downfall, watched with a triumphant smirk. My mother looked on in horror-not at his cruelty, but at the scene I was causing. My father simply turned away in disappointment. They had all chosen their sides long ago, and I was not on it. After a decade of absorbing their contempt for a crime I didn't commit, something inside me finally snapped. The guilt, the shame, the silence-it was all a lie I was no longer willing to live. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I calmly walked out of that ballroom, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number I found online. A gravelly voice answered. "Mccormick." "My name is Charlotte Gallegos," I said, my voice clearer and stronger than it had been in years. "I need to hire you."

His Healing, Her Vengeful Lie

The numb cold started in my fingertips, creeping inward. I watched Chloe, my wife, her face a mask of impatient fury in the dim tent light. Outside, a blizzard howled, the soundtrack to my dying. My miraculous blood, the blood that could heal, drained from my arm, a crimson offering for a dead man. "More," Chloe demanded, her voice sharp. "It' s not enough. You have to bring him back." Her childhood sweetheart, Jake Miller, lay frozen nearby, a corpse. "Chloe, it doesn' t work like this," I rasped, my vision blurring. "I can heal injuries. I can' t raise the dead." "Liar!" she shrieked, her grief a twisted venom. "You can heal anything! You won' t save him because you' re jealous! It' s your fault he went up that mountain! If you hadn' t forced me to marry you, he' d still be alive!" The accusation was a sick joke. I had healed her to repay a debt, a lie used to trap me. I wasn' t a god, just a medical prodigy. As my lifeblood pooled, the world faded to black, her hateful face my last sight. Then, bright, sterile light. I gasped, eyes flying open in a pristine hospital room. My hands were whole, warm. Mrs. Davis, Chloe' s mother, stood by the window, worried but hopeful. This was the day it all began, the day they begged me to heal their daughter. I remembered my profound sense of duty, repaying a girl I believed saved me. That single selfless act led to a year of loveless marriage, resentment, and my own murder. "Dr. Hayes," Mrs. Davis said, trembling. "We' ve heard about your… gift. They say you can perform miracles." She stepped forward, hands clasped. "My daughter, Chloe… she' ll never walk again. But we believe… you can save her. Please, we' ll give you anything." But my gaze was cold. I saw the contempt, the venom of my past in her desperate eyes. I had been a fool. A naive, sacrificial lamb. Not again.

The Butterfly Effect of Ava

The afternoon sun warmed my art studio, a sanctuary I' d built for myself, far from my chaotic family. Life was good, my canvas humming with color, ready for final touches. Then, the phone rang, a cold dread seizing me as Leo' s name flashed across the screen. He demanded money, as always, his voice a familiar, entitled growl. Our conversation was sharp, escalating quickly, ending with his chilling threat: "I'm outside your building. Come down here right now, or I'm coming up." A cold fear snaked down my spine; this was my sanctuary, not his to invade. He was waiting, his face thin and angry. When I refused him, he sneered, calling me "little miss perfect artist," shoving me. I stumbled, caught off balance, and then he shoved me again, harder. I fell backward, right into the street. Everything happened at once: the screech of tires, a blaring horn, blinding headlights. A massive force slammed into me, pain exploding through every nerve. Then, only darkness. I died. But then I opened my eyes. Confined to a tiny, unfamiliar body, in my old childhood bedroom, the calendar on the wall screamed 2007. I was seven years old again. It wasn't a dream. It was a second chance. A chance to change everything. A chance to stop Leo from becoming the monster who would one day cause my death.

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...

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

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.