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My sister Sarah' s last message was a cold, digital money transfer. "Chloe, take this money. Pay off Liam' s debts and live a good life. I' m tainted now, I can' t live and drag you down." No goodbye. Just a command and a confession. I knew where she would go-the bridge. I ran, but I was too late. A single shoe, hers, lay by the railing. Everything went silent. I found Liam at a high-end restaurant, laughing with another woman. "Ashley has passed my test," he announced. "I' ll propose to her in three days. She' s good enough to be a stand-in for my late fiancée." A test. My sister' s dignity shattered for a test. Her body sold for a test. Her life, thrown away from a bridge, for a test. The money on my phone burned, her sacrifice for a lie. Then, she was just a "dirty whore," and I was the "pure" replacement. He wanted me to wear his dead fiancée' s symbol and marry him. But on our wedding day, I had a surprise for Liam Sterling. I wouldn' t be his perfect doll. I would be her vengeance.
My sister Sarah' s last message was a cold, digital money transfer.
"Chloe, take this money. Pay off Liam' s debts and live a good life. I' m tainted now, I can' t live and drag you down."
No goodbye. Just a command and a confession.
I knew where she would go-the bridge.
I ran, but I was too late.
A single shoe, hers, lay by the railing.
Everything went silent.
I found Liam at a high-end restaurant, laughing with another woman.
"Ashley has passed my test," he announced.
"I' ll propose to her in three days. She' s good enough to be a stand-in for my late fiancée."
A test. My sister' s dignity shattered for a test.
Her body sold for a test.
Her life, thrown away from a bridge, for a test.
The money on my phone burned, her sacrifice for a lie.
Then, she was just a "dirty whore," and I was the "pure" replacement.
He wanted me to wear his dead fiancée' s symbol and marry him.
But on our wedding day, I had a surprise for Liam Sterling.
I wouldn' t be his perfect doll.
I would be her vengeance.
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Romance
I woke up with a pounding headache and a man I didn't recognize sleeping next to me-Liam Hayes, the man I' d loved for years, only to realize he' d mistaken me for his ex-girlfriend, Bethany. It was a cruel echo of a past life I was desperately trying to escape. He stirred, calling out her name, and then his eyes landed on me. The warmth vanished, replaced by cold indifference. He nonchalantly offered to marry me, stating it was only for his grandmother and that his love belonged to someone else. In my last life, I said yes. I let him use me, tolerate me, and ultimately ruin my family for Bethany. He abandoned me on a stormy night, leading to a car crash that killed me and our unborn twins. But now, I was back, reborn in that very hotel room, at the precipice of ruin. I calmly told him nothing happened, that he was drunk and I had merely fallen asleep on the couch. He snarled, refusing to believe me, pulling away the towel I wore to reveal bruises he' d inflicted, accusing me of drugging him. Just then, Bethany's video call flashed on his phone, and he instantly cast me aside, his voice soft and loving for her. He threw my dress at me, ordering me out. Later, when I was packing my things, he taunted me, then made elaborate plans to send chicken noodle soup via private jet to Bethany in Europe, while I, his supposed fiancée, couldn't even get a glass of water. It was then that the last piece of my old heart turned to dust. The very next day, my parents, beaming, presented me with a penthouse key, convinced Liam and I would finally marry. My mother' s hand flew to her chest when I told them I no longer loved Liam, just as his call came in. He ordered me to take birth control pills, then sarcastically dismissed the designer bag he'd once given me. I simply replied, "That bag is old. You can just throw it away."
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Billionaires
I'm a neurosurgeon making over half a million dollars a month. I support my husband, an army captain, and his entire parasitic family. After I saved them from financial ruin with a $5 million check, I planned the ultimate family vacation to Monaco—private jet, chartered yacht, all on my dime. The night before we left, my husband announced his ex-girlfriend, Dahlia, was coming. He had already given her my seat on the private jet I paid for. My new ticket? A commercial flight with a layover in a war zone. "Dahlia is delicate," he explained. "You're strong." His family agreed, fawning over her while I stood there, invisible. His sister even whispered to Dahlia, "I wish you were my real sister-in-law." That night, I found Dahlia in my bed, wearing my silk nightgown. When I went for her, my husband threw his arms around Dahlia, shielding her from me. The next morning, as punishment for my "behavior," he ordered me to load their mountain of luggage into the motorcade. I smiled. "Of course." Then I walked into my office and made a call. "Yes, I have a large quantity of contaminated material," I told the hazardous waste disposal service. "I need it all incinerated."
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Romance
My husband, Liam Sterling, once held me like a fragile, precious thing. Three years into our marriage, his touch turned to ice. He led Chloe Miller, the interior designer he now obsessed over, into our home. Today was her wedding day, a cruel game to force his hand. On my knees in a rust-scented warehouse, Liam' s gentle fingers stroked my neck. He smiled, but glacial eyes demanded Chloe' s wedding address. I pleaded, "I don' t know where her wedding is, Liam. She' s setting me up. She' s lying." He sneered, "Chloe was right, as usual. You' re just jealous of her." Then he brought out my brother, Ben, bound and gagged. Five snarling Dobermans lunged, their barks hungry. Liam whispered, his lips brushing my cheek, "If you don' t give me the wedding location, your brother will have a little 'playdate' with the Dobermans." His words were a cold knife, cutting deeper than any physical pain. A dog' s claw dug into Ben' s shoulder, tearing skin, drawing blood. His muffled cry tore through me. I begged, "Please, let my brother go! Take it out on me instead, Liam!" His face darkened, grip tightening on my chin. "Tell me, where is Chloe getting married?" He had forgotten everything we were. The man who swore to protect me now found cruel amusement in my agony. This wasn' t the first sign. Subtle perfumes, a whispered name in passion, then seeing him kiss her in the rain. He' d even told me, casually, "I' m keeping her. She entertains me. Men in our circle all do this." I tracked down Chloe' s abusive ex, hoping to end this nightmare. But she was smarter. She turned it into a scheme that branded me as the villain, telling Liam I paid her ex to marry her. And he believed her. When his assistant burst in with Chloe' s wedding location, Liam' s rage shifted. He ordered, "Help Mrs. Sterling back to her room." And as they dragged me away, I heard Ben' s whimpers, saw the Dobermans tear at him. Liam' s indifferent words echoed, "Honey, you know I can' t bear to punish you, so your brother will have to take the punishment for you." My world went black. Something snapped inside me. When I awoke in the hospital, Ben was alive, but mangled. "I can' t let you get hurt for me anymore. I have to leave him!" I cried. Ben sighed, "The world is vast, Ava, but the Sterling family is vastest." But I had a plan now, a secret escape clause in our marriage agreement. In ten days, Liam Sterling and I would never see each other again.
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Romance
"Ethan, why the sudden resignation? You're heading to Norway?" the HR manager asked. I was Sarah Jenkins's longest-serving, most loyal assistant, but I had no reason to stay anymore. A bitter smile touched my lips as I remembered how I had been tricked into a marriage seven years ago with Sarah, who used me as a stand-in for her ex, David. Now, she was pregnant and needed a husband. I found them at "The Gilded Lily," Sarah tending to David's injury, her face full of adoration. I was invisible, a servant, bringing clothes for David. Even my son, Leo, saw it. He looked at their linked hands, hurt flickering in his eyes. That night, Leo, my son, whispered, "This is the 97th time Mom has made me sad. Three more times. When it gets to 100, we'll leave Mom and never come back." My heart ached. Sarah had promised to celebrate his birthday, but she was flaunting her relationship with David on social media. When she came home, reeking of alcohol, she shoved a toy at me. "This is for Leo." It was the one she'd forgotten. A wave of frustration washed over me. "Let's get a divorce." She stared at me, then curled her lips into a mocking smile. "Can you and your son survive without me?" The next day, I handed her the divorce papers. She signed them without looking, her mind on an international call. I hated her condescending gestures, the expensive suits she bought me that were meant for someone like David. "I can give you a marriage, I can give you money, but you can't hope for my love. I hope you always remember your place." Her words sliced my heart. What right did I have to be upset? I was just the assistant, the stand-in husband. At a family dinner, her mother constantly compared me and my son to David and his son, Lucas. Lucas, a spoiled brat, then falsely accused Leo of hitting him with a fork. Before I could defend Leo, Sarah slapped our son. "Still lying!" My eyes burned red. How could she? The world went silent. Leo, his cheek red and swollen, looked at her, his soft voice filled with defiance. "I hate you. I don't have a mom like you!" My heart shattered. She had given birth to him, but she had never raised him. She only knew how to hurt him. "You're disgusting, disgusting, disgusting!" I roared, grabbing Leo's hand, ignoring Sarah. She tried to grab me, but I pulled away. "David is still waiting for you." She let go, her eyes darting to him. My heart turned to ice. She chose him again. I leaned down to Leo, "How about we go to Norway tonight?" He nodded, his gaze firm. "Okay." This was it. There was nothing left for me here. I packed our bags, buried a box of old memories, and placed the signed divorce papers on the table. Then, I texted her: "100." Moments later, she replied, "What?" My face impassive, I typed back: "My son and I gave you 100 chances to hurt us. Today was your 100th time." No more. My son and I were flying into the night, leaving her, and our past, behind.
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Romance
The first thing I felt was water in my lungs, then nothing. Now, I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head throbbing, with three years of my life mysteriously wiped clean. My father explained it away as an "accident," a fall into a lake, but the icy demeanor of my supposedly devoted bodyguard, Liam, and the saccharine sweetness masking venom from my stepsister, Brittany, painted a disturbing picture. "You valued him," my father said of Liam, confirming my worst suspicions about a past I couldn't recall, yet instinctively recoiled from. The "caring" nurse, the dismissive father, the subtly cruel stepsister-they all confirmed a horrifying truth: I was the obsessed, pathetic fool in a one-sided romance. This betrayal was cemented when Brittany, in a staged "accident," showered Liam with attention, and he, without a moment' s hesitation, left me in my hospital bed to comfort her, his "concern" for her a stark contrast to his disdain for me. Why had my past self been so blind? What dark secrets lay buried in those missing three years that made me cling to a man who despised me and a family that clearly harbored ill will? The humiliation burned hotter than any fever. But in that cold realization, a new resolve was forged. The pathetic Chloe was gone, drowned in that lake. With a click, I deleted Liam' s picture and contact from my phone. My amnesia was not a curse; it was a clean slate, and I vowed to reclaim my life and burn down the world of those who had wronged me.
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Modern
My biological parents, the Duncans, finally threw me out, discarding me like trash onto the wet Chicago pavement. Minutes later, trapped in a kidnapper's van, I heard my own brother Andrew on speaker, coldly telling them to do whatever they wanted with me – they didn't care. Stella, the perfect daughter they raised in my place, even chimed in with fake sympathy, reinforcing their blatant disregard for my life. I survived the kidnapping, even a stabbing where I saved a stranger, only for Andrew to accuse me of faking it all for attention and sympathy while still demanding I return to their gilded cage. Why did my own family hate me so much, even choosing to let me die repeatedly, while showering affection on a girl who clearly manipulated them? I jumped into Lake Michigan, not to end my life, but to escape their suffocating lies and build a new one, free from the ghost of Jocelyn Chavez.
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My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.
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Her ex-husband declared, "The person I admired most was that legendary racer." She smiled thinly. "Hate to break it to you-that was me." He said, "Jealous I blew a fortune on a world-famous jeweler for Violet?" She let out a cool laugh. "Funny, that designer trained under me." He scoffed, "Buying a dying firm won't put you in my league. Snap out of it." She shrugged. "Weird-I just steered your company off a cliff." Stunned, he blurted out, "Baby, come back. I'll love you forever." She wrinkled her nose. "Hard pass. Keep your cheap love." Then she took a mogul's arm and never looked back.
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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."
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Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.
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For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"
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Silvia lost everything in one night-her parents,her trust,and her mate. Coming home from their funeral,she found her "fated"partner,Zack,tangled with another she-wolf. "You'll always be my Luna... even if I need variety,"he said,smirking. Heartbroken but fierce,she rejected him-and turned to someone far more dangerous. "I need help,"she whispered. Sherman leaned closer,his voice like silk over steel. "I offer more than help,little wolf. I offer everything he couldn't give you." Now married to Zack's powerful half-brother,Silvia plays a deadly game of loyalty,vengeance,and survival. But Sherman Carter doesn't help for free-and as their bond deepens,truths unravel. Is Silvia just a pawn in Sherman's war? Or is she becoming the Queen who'll burn the whole pack down? When love,betrayal,and bloodlines collide,how far will one omega go to save her family-and destroy the mate who broke her soul?


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