The Star Maker's Revenge

From Burden To Unstoppable Queen

My fiancé, Caleb Holder, saw me as a burden, a stain on his perfect image. In my past life, his constant cruelty and public humiliation drove me to suicide. After I died, the truth came out. His mistress, Erica, had faked her pregnancy and the miscarriage she blamed on me. While the world celebrated their "true love," I was just a tragic, forgotten fool. But then I opened my eyes. I was back on the night of the gala, moments before Erica would throw herself down the stairs. In a few minutes, Caleb would believe her lies without question, slap me until I bled, and call me a monster in front of his family. "You evil, jealous monster! You tried to kill my child!" Last time, his words destroyed me. This time, they would be my battle cry.

Five Years Of Lies: The Wife's Awakening

To an orphan like me, the Donovans’ approval was oxygen. I thought I was living a fairy tale as Ivan’s fiancée, finally finding a place to land. That illusion shattered the night I overheard my future father-in-law whisper behind a study door. "We can't keep paying Kayla forever. If this comes out, it ruins the merger." The name hung in the air like toxic smoke. Driven by a sickening gut feeling, I dug deeper. I found a tuition bill for a prestigious kindergarten for a boy named Leo—paid for by the Donovans. I disguised myself as a pest control worker and infiltrated the address on the bill. Inside the playroom of a massive mansion, I found the smoking gun. It wasn’t a receipt. It was a commissioned oil painting. It depicted my fiancé, Ivan, smiling with his arm around a beautiful woman, a young boy standing between them. The plaque read: *Our Happy Family - 2023.* They weren't just cheating; they were living a parallel life. They thought I was just the naive, grateful scholarship student who would never look too closely. They were wrong. At our lavish fifth-anniversary party, in front of five hundred of Manhattan's elite, Ivan waited for my loving toast. Instead, I signaled the AV booth. The giant screen behind us flickered to life. But it didn't show our wedding photos. It showed the painting. And then, I played the recordings.

Betrayed By The Don: Her Ultimate Escape

On our anniversary, I was basting the roast when my husband’s encrypted laptop lit up on the kitchen counter. Alex Bradley, the ruthless Underboss of New York, never made mistakes. But tonight, he left a chat room open. The notification shattered my world: "Is the idiot eating the dog food yet?" It was from his mistress, Charlotte. They were betting on whether I would eat the red velvet cake she had spiked with her Rottweiler’s excrement. I realized then that my marriage was a long-con. I was just a "placeholder" wife to secure his promotion to Don. To survive, I had to play the part. Alex sat on the bed, feeding me the tainted cake with a loving smile. "Eat up, Jillian," he purred. "It’s to die for." I swallowed every bite of the filth, forcing myself not to vomit until he left the room. The humiliation didn't stop there. I found out our marriage license was void. He publicly bought me a twenty-million-dollar necklace at a gala, then abandoned me to face the debt, forcing me to hand over my grandmother’s earrings as collateral. He even watched calmly as his family beat me for a prank Charlotte orchestrated. But the final blow came when I overheard him planning our "romantic" getaway. "The blizzard hits Friday," he told Charlotte. "It’ll look like a tragic accident. Hypothermia." He thought he was taking a lamb to the slaughter. He didn’t know I had been counting down the days. When we arrived at the cabin and he went to prepare my "accident," I didn't cry. I tossed one of my boots over the cliff edge to stage my death. Then I climbed into the black extraction van waiting in the snow. Alex Bradley thought he had killed his wife. He had no idea he had just set her free.

The Invisible Girlfriend's New Start

After three years of being the agreeable, invisible girlfriend to my tech CEO boyfriend, Edward, I finally left him. Then Brody Frazier, his charming rival, swept into my life, determined to use me to get under Edward's skin. But at a tech gala, Edward cornered me, publicly declaring his love and flashing a "promise ring" he claimed he'd bought for me weeks ago. He did this right after his high school crush, Jeannette, announced their engagement, and right before he accused me of humiliating him. He insisted his feelings for Jeannette were a "youthful fantasy" and that I was his "anchor," his "stability." He said he loved me. But I remembered the truth. I remembered the small, hand-carved wooden bird he'd once made. A gift he'd had me send to Jeannette years ago, along with a love note he dictated himself. And I knew his desperate confession wasn't love. It was damage control.

From Mafia Wife to Rival's Queen

After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field. But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me. Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number. "Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk." It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family. The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him—all dismissed as "just business." Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer. "Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."

Blinded By Her Betrayal

The scent of lilies was thick, sweet, and suffocating. It was my wedding day, a grand affair Chloe had meticulously planned, even insisting on a custom-designed lighting fixture for the venue. Then the world exploded: metal twisted, glass shattered, and a crushing impact stole my sight, leaving me in a terrifying void. Chloe stayed by my side, weeping as the doctors delivered their grim prognosis: permanent blindness. She promised to be my "eyes," to take care of me, and swore our extravagant wedding would still happen, a beacon of eternal devotion. Her words were a lifeline in the suffocating dark, and I clung to them, believing in a future where her love would guide me. But then, the flickers started, ghost images resolving into light. My sight was returning, yet an instinct deep inside told me to keep it a secret. I continued to play the blind man, observing, listening, hidden in plain sight. One evening, feigning sleep, I heard Chloe whisper to Mark Stone, her brother-in-law. "Are you sure this was the only way?" she asked. "It was the cleanest way," he murmured, "An accident. Now he's helpless. He'll never find out about us." My heart stopped as I saw Mark kiss her-long and deep-before they spoke of my "inheritance" and a future built on my ruin. They planned it all: the accident, my blindness, my slow, humiliating descent into a "charity case" to be exploited. The betrayal was a physical blow, a cold, black void far worse than any darkness they thought they' d cast me into. They thought me a sightless fool, an easy target. They had no idea who I truly was, or what I was capable of. A silent, burning rage ignited within me, hardening into an unbreakable resolve. They wanted a show? I would give them one tonight at the wedding-a spectacle they would never forget, where their carefully constructed lies would unravel.

The Rise Of The Ugly Luna

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

He Chose First Love, I Chose the Alpha King

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.

Beg For My Love, Cold-Hearted CEO

Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.

Too Late, Hubby, I'm The Tycoon's Darling Now!

For three years, Averie pushed herself through a secret marriage, waiting for the day she could finally wear a white dress and be seen as his wife. The night before she could finally walk down the aisle, he confessed without a hint of hesitation that he was marrying the woman who once rescued him instead. The "fake" divorce agreement she signed for him shattered into a real, icy breakup that finally freed her wounded heart. When he returned in remorse, begging for just one more chance, a ruthless business magnate pulled Averie close and muttered coldly, "You're too late. She's my woman now."

Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.