The Perfect Husband's Lie

The Ex-Wife's Unforgiving Revenge

My fiancé, Grayson Malone, had me locked in a mental institution while I was pregnant. He stole our son, Adam, and let his mistress raise him as her own. For six years, I survived in poverty, secretly raising our daughter, Ida-the one he never knew existed. Our worlds finally collided at a school event. His mistress, Kiera, shoved Ida, whose head cracked against a metal chair. Her heart stopped. In the ensuing panic, Grayson found a journal I "accidentally" dropped. It was his dead sister's diary, holding the truth that proved Kiera's lies had destroyed my entire family. Now, consumed by guilt, he's begging for a second chance. He thinks he can buy my forgiveness. He has no idea I'm about to take everything from him, just like he did to me.

His Secret Family, My Public Shame

For five years, my adoptive family told me my sister, Seraphina, was being punished at a strict boarding school for framing me for a political crime. I played the part of the perfect daughter, happily engaged to a brilliant congressman, my life a picture of success and privilege. Then, on the night of my fifth engagement anniversary, I saw her laughing in a park with my fiancé, Liam, and their four-year-old son. My entire world was a lie. I wasn't his beloved fiancée; I was a placeholder, a political shield to protect their secret family. Every family dinner, every whispered "I love you," was a performance for an audience of one: me. My own mother, who preached about my sister’s need for "reflection," was secretly using family money to fund the comfortable life of the woman who tried to destroy me. But it was worse than an affair. I discovered Seraphina was blackmailing them. The scandal she framed me for was real, and my own father was involved. They had sacrificed me to protect their legacy from the criminal they raised. In a hidden email, she called me a "plain social worker," a fool they had to pretend to love. They were wrong. At my mother’s annual charity gala, I made a small change to the evening’s presentation. As the lights dimmed, a photo of my fiancé’s real family flashed onto the screens for all of Washington's elite to see.

The Regent's Secret

The world was a blur of pain, and Kael, my fierce protector, was there to sweep me into his arms, just like always. He was my anchor, the man whose life was bound to mine by a rare, ancient Soul-Link—a sacrifice I'd made without a second thought to save him from poison years ago. I trusted him with my life, literally. Then I saw her. First in a terrifying nightmare, then in Kael's study, a cloaked figure handing him a mysterious ornate box. Her cold, regal eyes haunted my waking thoughts, but Kael swore I was dreaming, soothing my fears with familiar warmth and a tangible clue about my missing sister, Seraphina. He couldn't be lying, not when our very souls were linked. My trust shattered when I saw Lyra again, stepping out of a gilded carriage, announcing her engagement to Kael. They'd been engaged for years, uniting two powerful families. I was nothing but a temporary amusement, a pet he'd picked up. His betrayal sent a searing pain through my chest, amplified by the Soul-Link—a physical manifestation of my broken heart. How could he cause me such profound emotional agony, yet share my physical pain so deeply? The contradiction tore me apart. He looked at me with genuine worry, yet continued to lie, continuing this elaborate deception. Why? What was this bond to him? Just a burden? I found my answer, not in his words, but in the truth. The man with Lyra was his twin brother, a calculated deception to manage his political life. I wasn't just a secret; I was a fully separate life he was living. My heart shattered. I learned then that the "medicine" he gave me daily wasn't a cure for the Soul-Link's pain, but a slow poison, ensuring my dependence, my control. He blamed me for the link, twisting my sacrifice into a curse. So I ended it, plunging a letter opener into my own heart, severing the Soul-Link, and sending him an agonizing final message of shared oblivion.

A Taste of Betrayal: The Chef's Sweet Revenge

It was our fifth wedding anniversary, and I, a once Michelin-starred chef, had prepared a special dinner, ready to celebrate the life I'd built supporting my ambitious politician wife, Jessica. But then came her call, a clipped, professional voice explaining an "urgent campaign retreat," followed by the devastating discovery of an abortion receipt dated two weeks prior, a decision she made without me. The next day, her Chief of Staff, David, chillingly answered her phone, confirming my worst fears: she wasn't at a retreat; she was with him, comfortably in his hotel room. My heart pounded with a mix of betrayal and raw disbelief – how could she discard our shared future, our dream of a family, and betray our vows so utterly, all while I sacrificed everything for her career? When she finally returned, furious and drenched, she kicked the custom smoker I used for my small catering gigs, sneering at my "hobby" and screaming that I was lazy, ambitionless, and holding her back, pushing me to the brink of a life-changing decision. Her contempt solidified my resolve: she had no idea the "freeloader" she was disdaining was the silent architect of her entire world, and her next move would shatter the illusion she had so carefully constructed.

Saving The Victim Of Plastic Surgery

Here's the translation: My best friend is flat-chested and became obsessed with breast augmentation, after which a salesperson recommended her to get liposuction. I advised her against it, suggesting she should exercise more to lose weight instead. However, she not only ignored my advice but also told annoying people that I was jealous of her becoming more attractive. Later, she had a failed liposuction, her face became disfigured, and she developed infections all over her body, looking unrecognizable. When I went to visit her, she yelled at me, accusing me of coming to mock her and claiming that I was the one who caused her problems. Although I felt sad, I didn’t blame her and continued to take care of her. On the day she was discharged from the hospital, I went to pick her up, but she pushed me into the street, where I was repeatedly run over by vehicles! After being reborn, my best friend once again asked me if I wanted to get plastic surgery. "No, you'll die." I decided to keep trying to save her.

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?

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

The Mafia Heiress's Comeback: She's More Than You Think

Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren—the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet—already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"