Caged Love

The Fallen Heiress's Debt to the Billionaire

I was once the princess of the Upper East Side, but now I’m just "debt wrapped in pretty skin." To keep my father alive in a federal penitentiary, I signed a contract I didn't fully understand. I thought it was about restoring my family's name, but producer Barnett Orr treated it like a bill of sale for my soul. Inside his limousine, the air smelled like gasoline and fear. Barnett didn't want a star; he wanted a victim. He bruised my jaw and ripped my vintage silk gown to shreds, laughing because he knew I couldn't fight back without signing my father's death warrant. "Don't forget who owns you, Felicity," he whispered. When he dragged me into Dewitt Knight’s penthouse party, I was a walking disaster. I huddled in Barnett’s oversized jacket, my lip bleeding and my spirit shattered. The elite crowd didn't see a victim; they saw a fallen girl selling herself for a role. A former rival poured red wine over me, and the room erupted in cruel laughter while Barnett told everyone he was just "testing my commitment." I looked up at the balcony, locking eyes with Dewitt Knight. He was a god in a bespoke suit, looking down at me with cold, lethal disgust. He didn't see the bruises or the desperation. He only saw a transaction he found beneath him. "So the rumors are true," he said, his voice cutting through the music. "The Aguilars really will do anything for money now. Even this." I was trapped between a monster who wanted to break me and a man who thought I was trash. No one cared that my father's life depended on my silence. When Barnett cornered me in a guest room later that night, his belt jingling like a death knell, I realized no one was coming to save a girl like me. I fought back with a crystal vase, shattering it against his shoulder, but I was drowning in my own terror. Just as Barnett lunged for my throat, the door was kicked off its hinges. Dewitt stood there, finally seeing the blood on the carpet and the map of purple bruises on my bare back. He chased the monster away, but I didn't feel safe. I locked the guest room door, wedged a chair under the handle, and slept with a silver letter opener pressed against my skin. When I crept into the kitchen at midnight and found him waiting in the shadows, I aimed the blade at his heart. "In this house, no one hurts you," he promised, his voice a low velvet rumble. But in a world where I had already been sold once, I knew that even protection came with a price I couldn't afford to pay.

Four Years Built On Deceit

For four years, I believed my fiancé, Damari, was fighting for us. I watched him endure his grandfather' s cruel punishments-exile, financial ruin, public humiliation-all because the old man supposedly refused to approve our marriage. I waited, believing his sacrifice was the ultimate proof of his love. Then I found the real document hidden in his office. It wasn't a rejection. It was an approval, stamped and dated, with a tiny, forged "not" scrawled in different ink. The entire four-year struggle was a lie. When I confronted him, he crumbled. He did it for his obsessive assistant, Cydney. "She can't live without me, Augusta," he pleaded. "She needs me." My world collapsed. His devotion wasn't for me; it was a performance to appease another woman. All his "sacrifices" were just a cruel way to keep me waiting while he played the hero for someone else. So when he abandoned me one last time to run to Cydney's side, I made my choice. I packed my bags, left New York, and started a new life, determined to never be anyone's second choice again.

The Red Queen's Spectacular Rise After Betrayal

For five years, I was the woman in the shadows, the secret partner Evander Mathews promised to marry once his company was stable. On our fifth anniversary, I waited in our Manhattan penthouse with chilled wine, only for him to leave abruptly for what he called a "merger emergency." In his haste, he left his wall safe open. Inside, I found a marriage contract signed three days ago. The groom was Evander, but the bride was my sister, Daneen. Then came the message that shattered my world—a photo of their hands intertwined and a text from my sister. "Sister, thank you for borrowing him for five years. But he is home now." I looked at the rows of white silk dresses in my closet and finally understood the truth. I was never his lover; I was a living memorial, a placeholder he had curated to look and smell exactly like the sister who had spent our childhood abusing me. He knew about the scars on my back, yet he was choosing the woman who gave them to me. When Evander sent his assistant the next morning to pay me off with a diamond necklace, he expected me to disappear. He thought the girl he had kept hidden for half a decade would never have the courage to step into the light. He was wrong. I grabbed the fabric scissors, hacked off the long hair he adored, and dialed a number I had kept hidden for years. "I’m ready to collect that favor," I said to the man on the other end. "Get me into the gala tonight. I’m going to show them exactly what they tried to bury."

The Placeholder Wife: His Too Late Regret

On our fifth anniversary, I didn't get a gift. I got divorce papers. My husband, Ethan Spencer, the city's most feared Underboss, stood by while his mistress threw red wine over my white gown in front of the entire elite. "You're just a placeholder, Brooke," she sneered. "A factory rat keeping the seat warm." I waited for Ethan to defend me. Instead, when she planted a necklace in my bag and accused me of theft, he didn't check the cameras. He didn't look at the blood soaking my dress where he had shoved me aside. He called the police on his own wife. "Take her away," he ordered cold-heartedly, stepping over me to comfort the crying woman who was framing me. I spent the night in a freezing cell, realizing that for five years, he hadn't even opened the anniversary gifts I hid in his closet. He didn't know I wrote the stories for his company's games. He didn't know I was the one keeping his empire afloat. When I was released, I didn't go back to the penthouse. I walked straight to the headquarters of his sworn enemy, Dominic Cannon. "I heard you're looking for a narrative designer," I said, placing my wedding ring on his desk. "And I know exactly how to destroy the Spencer family." By the time Ethan found out the truth and came crawling back, dying and clutching the steel rose I once made him, it was too late. I was already wearing someone else's ring.

The Wife He Called A Nanny

A woman I' d never met introduced herself as my son' s mother in the parent group chat. I was three thousand miles away with my dying mother. My husband, Jaxon, told me it was just a mistake. Then, at a school event, he publicly disowned me, telling everyone I was just the nanny. He pointed to his mistress-the woman who tormented our son-and called her his "real" mother. My ten-year marriage was a lie. The man I loved let this woman lock our sick seven-year-old in a dark closet, then called me unstable and tried to take him from me. They thought they had won. They thought I was just a broken housewife with nothing left. But they forgot who I was before I became his wife. Today is Jaxon's big promotion meeting. He doesn't know the new Vice President who holds his future in her hands… is me.

My Love, Her Leverage

My ribeye was getting cold as I sat alone at Vince's Steakhouse, waiting for Nicole on our one-year anniversary. I' d booked her favorite corner booth, even checking myself out of the hospital despite cracked ribs, all for her. Then her text came: "Stuck in chem lab. Won't make it. Raincheck?" My heart sank. But just as I was about to signal for the check, a group was led past my table. My world stopped. It was Nicole, in the dress I bought her, laughing with her college roommate and her high school sweetheart, Luis-the one who' d ghosted her when her life fell apart. I watched, frozen, as her roommate quipped about me being "a sweet, dumb rich kid" wrapped around Nicole's finger. Nicole just shrugged, saying, "Can we not talk about him? He's ruining my mood." The woman I loved called me an inconvenience, while celebrating "new beginnings" with the man who' d abandoned her. I swallowed the bitter truth: I wasn't her boyfriend; I was a transaction. A debt repaid with her time. The pain was worse than any broken bone. Why was I always the fallback, the savior, never the choice? The next morning, her call came, a soft apology, promising to meet. A foolish part of me hoped, until Luis sat beside her at the coffee shop. This wasn't an apology; it was a shakedown for half a million dollars. And that' s when I finally said, "No."

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?"

THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: MARRY TO RIVAL'S SON

"Let's get married," Mia declares, her voice trembling despite her defiant gaze into Stefan's guarded brown eyes. She needs this, even if he seems untouchable. Stefan raises a skeptical brow. "And why would I do that?" His voice was low, like a warning, and it made her shiver even though she tried not to show it. "We both have one thing in common," Mia continues, her gaze unwavering. "Shitty fathers. They want to take what's ours and give it to who they think deserves it." A pointed pause hangs in the air. "The only difference between us is that you're an illegitimate child, and I'm not." Stefan studies her, the heiress in her designer armor, the fire in her eyes that matches the burn of his own rage. "That's your solution? A wedding band as a weapon?" He said ignoring the part where she just referred to him as an illegitimate child. "The only weapon they won't see coming." She steps closer, close enough for him to catch the scent of her perfume, gunpowder and jasmine. "Our fathers stole our birthrights. The sole reason they betrayed us. We join forces, create our own empire that'll bring down theirs." A beat of silence. Then, Stefan's mouth curves into something sharp. "One condition," he murmurs, closing the distance. "No divorces. No surrenders. If we're doing this, it's for life" "Deal" Mia said without missing a beat. Her father wants to destroy her life. She wouldn't give him the pleasure, she would destroy her life as she seems fit. ................ Two shattered heirs. One deadly vow. A marriage built on revenge. Mia Meyers was born to rule her father's empire (so she thought), until he named his bastard son heir instead. Stefan Sterling knows the sting of betrayal too. His father discarded him like trash. Now the rivals' disgraced children have a poisonous proposal: Marry for vengeance. Crush their fathers' legacies. Never speak of divorce. Whoever cracks first loses everything. Can these two rivals, united by their vengeful hearts, pull off a marriage of convenience to reclaim what they believe is rightfully theirs? Or will their fathers' animosity, and their own complicated pasts tear their fragile alliance apart?

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 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.

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.

She Took The House, The Car, And My Heart

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.