The Path Less Traveled

His Secret Son, Her Public Shame

I was Aliana Donovan, a resident physician, finally reunited with the wealthy family I' d been lost from as a child. I had loving parents and a handsome, successful fiancé. I was safe. I was loved. It was a perfect, fragile lie. The lie shattered on a Tuesday when I discovered my fiancé, Ivan, wasn't at a board meeting but at a sprawling mansion with Kiera Reese, the woman I was told had a mental breakdown five years ago after trying to frame me. She wasn' t disgraced; she was radiant, holding a little boy, Leo, who giggled in Ivan' s arms. I overheard their conversation: Leo was their son, and I was merely a "placeholder," a means to an end until Ivan no longer needed my family's connections. My parents, the Donovans, were in on it, funding Kiera' s lavish life and their secret family. My entire reality-the loving parents, the devoted fiancé, the security I thought I' d found-was a carefully constructed stage, and I was the fool playing the lead role. The casual lie Ivan texted me, "Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you. See you at home," while he stood beside his real family, was the final blow. They thought I was pathetic. They thought I was a fool. They were about to find out just how wrong they were.

His Deceit, My Vengeance

I stood at the awards ceremony, basking in the success of my firm, Miller Thompson, and eagerly anticipating my fiancé David Chen' s arrival. He' d texted that he was in a last-minute investor meeting, brimming with pride for me. Then I saw the ring. On another woman' s hand. The Möbius strip engagement ring I had designed for David, the one he claimed he' d lost six months ago in Singapore. And then I heard her on the phone, cooing to "David" about their child, Leo, and him laughing in the background. My world shattered. David, my loving fiancé who talked about our future, was secretly a husband and father living a parallel life-a life I was unknowingly funding. All those late nights, "tech conferences," and tearful stories about "lost" rings were elaborate lies designed to extract my money and trust. My heart pounded with the sickening realization: I was his chief investor, not his partner in love. How could I have been so blind? He was the architect of my dreams, or so he said. He was everyone' s favorite, my parents adored him. All the while, he was building another life with someone else, using my money, my network, and my love as his foundation. Every memory we shared, every promise he made, turned into a grotesque parody of the truth. The fury that replaced my shock solidified my resolve. I dropped the phone on his name and typed two words: "Call me." This was no longer about heartbroken despair; it was about cold, calculating vengeance. He had stolen my future, my money, and my trust. Now, I would make him pay.

Love Forged in Flames of Hate

The fire consumed everything. It wasn' t an accident. I lit it myself, watching the flames devour the apartment where I' d cried for so many nights, wiping away the misery. Across the room, Tiffany Chen, my former roommate and so-called friend, was tied to a chair, her eyes wide with terror, her expensive clothes torn and dirty. She was the one who lured me, a naive college kid struggling with tuition and rent, into her family' s predatory online loan scheme. She promised quick cash, easy approval, a solution to all my problems. Instead, the money never materialized, the interest rates ballooned to illegal levels, and the "online loan" turned into a hundred-thousand-dollar nightmare. When I couldn't pay, she forced me into her family' s "club" -a hellhole where rich men paid to do whatever they wanted, and I was just another girl forced to endure their hands. But that wasn't enough. She released photos and videos of me online, sending them to my university and my quiet hometown. The shame broke my parents; my father died of a heart attack, and my mother drowned herself a week later. With nothing left to lose, I found Tiffany, doused her apartment in gasoline, and watched her scream as the flames reached her. Then, a blinding light, a jolt, and I gasped awake, not in a burning apartment, but in my old dorm room. Tiffany Chen sat at her desk, putting on makeup, looking young, happy, and completely innocent. "Bad dream?" she asked, with the same smile that started my nightmare. The date on her digital clock confirmed it: I was back at the very beginning. This time, I was ready to play a different game.

The Man She Had To Hide

Today was my 18th birthday, the day I was supposed to inherit a fortune and officially become the man my family expected. But all I wanted was to be the woman I truly was, especially for Chris, my best friend. Then, at my birthday party, I suddenly heard it – Chris' s thoughts, loud and clear. He loved me. Not as his male best friend, Alex, but with a fierce, forbidden passion that surprised even him. He was willing to throw away his wealthy fiancée, his family' s expectations, and his entire future, all for "Alex." It was the most incredible, terrifying revelation. How could I possibly tell him the truth – that the "man" he loved was actually Alexandra, a woman forced to pretend for 18 years? My carefully laid plans to confess shattered, replaced by the terrifying realization that my truth might break the man who loved me more than anything. I knew then: I had to secure my family' s future, then, and only then, could I reveal the real me, and pray his love was as strong as his thoughts proclaimed.

The Twin They Tried To Erase: My Mother's Million-Dollar Lie

My final ballet scholarship audition was supposed to be my destiny. Instead, I found myself in a police interrogation room, accused of stealing from a sick girl. My own mother sat beside me, dabbing fake tears, whispering for me to confess to a "moment of weakness" while orchestrating my ruin. They showed me a security photo of a girl who looked exactly like me stuffing cash from a donation box. I denied it, but the overwhelming evidence, coupled with my mother' s performance, painted me as a desperate thief, shattering my ballet dreams and reputation. I couldn' t understand why my mother, the one person who should have supported me, was so determined to destroy my life. For years, she had subtly sabotaged my auditions-a slippery substance on my pointe shoes causing a career-ending injury, a powerful laxative in my "power smoothie" making me miss another crucial tryout. Now, she was pushing me to confess to a crime I didn't commit, driving me to the brink of suicide. Lying in a hospital bed after a desperate overdose, a chilling truth clicked into place: my grandmother' s multi-million dollar trust fund, accessible at 21 or upon "significant professional success," would go to my mother if I died or was deemed incompetent. It was never about my ballet; it was about the inheritance, and every "accident" was a calculated attempt to break me. In that moment, I knew I had to fight back, not as a victim, but with every fiber of my being.

The Silent Liberator

The Hugheses' estate shimmered with white roses and sunlight, a picture-perfect setting for Caleb' s wedding. I stood at the edge of the manicured lawn, a single dark spot in a sea of pastel suits. He was marrying a kind schoolteacher named Nicole, a carefully chosen part of the gilded cage his adoptive parents had built around him. I just looked past them, toward the white tent where Caleb stood, a stranger in his expensive tuxedo. He looked like the town' s beloved veterinarian, the perfect son. But I knew the real Caleb, the boy who hid under flimsy beds in the foster home, the one who dreamed of the ocean. As he cut the cake, I slipped through the guests, a quiet shadow. I leaned in close, lips beside his ear. "It' s okay to be you." For a terrifying second, nothing happened. Then, his entire body went rigid. The polite smile shattered like porcelain. He snatched the cake knife and lunged, stabbing Nicole repeatedly. Blood bloomed across her white dress, turning the perfect wedding into a scene of horror. They took Caleb, catatonic, and me, silent. Detective Stevens looked at me, weary and cynical. "You whispered something in his ear, and he butchered his new bride. What did you say?" I stayed silent. They called me a witch, a puppet master, a monster. I watched Nicole' s parents weep on TV, calling for my arrest, and felt a deep, hollow ache for them, for her. No one understood. Five years later, the Hugheses announced Caleb' s "recovery" and a grand welcome-home party, on the anniversary of the wedding. They were putting him back in his cage, this time with reinforced bars. I knew it was time. I pulled out the navy dress.

Too Late For Regret: The Genius Heiress Who Shines

Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."

Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!

For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul-her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband's entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I'm out of your league."

The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers

After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."

Hell In His Eyes, Heaven In His Kiss

Gabriela learned her boyfriend had been two-timing her and writing her off as a brainless bimbo, so she drowned her heartache in reckless adventure. One sultry blackout night she tumbled into bed with a stranger, then slunk away at dawn, convinced she'd succumbed to a notorious playboy. She prayed she'd never see him again. Yet the man beneath those sheets was actually Wesley, the decisive, ice-cool, unshakeable CEO who signed her paychecks. Assuming her heart was elsewhere, Wesley returned to the office cloaked in calm, but every polite smile masked a dark surge of possessive jealousy.

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.

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.