A Wife's Quiet Devastation

My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

Five Years, A Fading Love

For five years, I was Grafton Mcleod's shadow. I wasn't just his assistant; I was his alibi, his shield, the one who cleaned up his messes. Everyone thought I was in love with him. They were wrong. I did it all for his brother, Justen—the man I truly loved, who made me promise on his deathbed to look after Grafton. The five years were up. My promise was fulfilled. I handed in my resignation, ready to finally grieve in peace. But that very night, Grafton's cruel girlfriend, Cherrelle, dared him to a deadly street race he couldn't win. To save his life, I took the wheel for him. I won the race but crashed the car, waking up in a hospital bed. Grafton accused me of doing it for attention, then left to comfort Cherrelle over a sprained ankle. He believed her lies when she said I pushed her, shoving me against a wall so hard my head wound split open again. He stood by while she forced me to drink glass after glass of whiskey he was deathly allergic to, calling it a test of loyalty. The final humiliation came at a charity auction. To prove his love for Cherrelle, he put me on the stage and sold me for the night to another man. I had endured five years of hell to honor a dead man's last wish, and this was my reward. After escaping the man who bought me, I went to the bridge where Justen died. I sent Grafton one last text: "I'm going to be with the man I love." Then, with nothing left to live for, I jumped.

From Shadow Lover To Her Own

For five years, I was his shadow and his secret lover, all because of a deathbed promise to his older brother—the man I was supposed to marry. On the day that promise was fulfilled, he told me to plan his engagement party to another woman.

The Scapegoat Fiancée: I Am No Substitute

Seven years. That was the price I paid for my sister’s crime. My fiancé, Dante, the most ruthless Don in New York, called my prison sentence "mercy." He promised we would go back to how things were once the debt was paid. But when I walked out of those gates, I didn't find a husband waiting for me. I found him peeling grapes for my sister, Chiara. They sat at the family table, telling me I was unstable. They demanded I break our engagement so Dante could marry her instead. They claimed she was fragile, dying of leukemia, while I was "strong enough" to handle the rejection. They didn't know the truth. They didn't know that while I was in solitary, I was dragged to a clinic to donate my bone marrow—without anesthesia—to save her life. I gave my freedom and my bones for this family. Yet, when I told Dante the truth, he looked me in the eye and called me a liar. He chose the sister who framed me over the woman who sacrificed everything for him. So, I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply disappeared. Two years later, when Dante finally found me in a gallery in Paris, begging on his knees with his wrist slashed in desperation, I didn't feel love. I looked at the man who destroyed me and said, "Security, please escort this gentleman out."

The Face Swap Scandal

My fiancée, Chloe Miller, replaced my face with someone else' s on our engagement photos and posted them online, proclaiming "Liam Stone" her "soulmate" after "ten years of waiting." When I confronted her, she dismissed it as a "joke" for her followers, but at our lavish engagement party-which I paid for-she publicly disavowed me, feigning ignorance and crying harassment, leading to me being brutally beaten and thrown out by security. Waking up in the hospital with a concussion and broken ribs, I watched her and Liam flaunt their "new life" on social media, even occupying my apartment. Her subsequent call, laced with fake concern and an audacious request that I jump-start Liam' s car, truly opened my eyes. The pain of betrayal was immense, but it was nothing compared to the sickening realization that I had wasted five years, abandoning my family for a manipulative parasite. The absurdity of her demands, even after all this, finally brought a cold clarity. I hung up, dialed my mother, and asked if the arranged marriage offer was still on the table, ready to reclaim the life I had foolishly cast aside.

The Shattered Wife's Ascent

My husband, David Chen, the CEO of "InnovateX," called for a celebration on our fifth anniversary. He announced, with a theatrical wink, that the two representatives for the Global Tech Summit in Hawaii would be chosen by a game. He drew his own name first, then reached into the glass bowl, his hand going straight for a specific spot, and pulled out a precisely folded slip: his much-younger assistant, Emily White. A wave of whispers and knowing glances went through the office. Emily, wearing the new perfume I' d noticed in our bathroom, practically ran to him, her red nails lingering on his arm after an embrace that lasted far too long. I stood frozen, the silent partner, the co-founder, the wife whose marriage was a secret to protect his "young, bachelor CEO" image-an image he was now building with Emily. The next morning, Emily sabotaged a crucial presentation I' d spent two months perfecting. David, instead of holding her accountable, punished me. He canceled my trip and ordered me to fix "my department's mistake" over the weekend, all while comforting Emily and giving her credit for my work in front of the entire company. The humiliation was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest. Later, I found an elegant Vera Wang box on our bed, a dress I' d dreamed of. My heart leaped, hoping for an apology, a real celebration of our secret marriage. But David nonchalantly explained it was for a client, "to seal a deal." Hours later, I found his phone, a notification for "E's final dress fitting tomorrow" on the screen. The wallpaper was Emily, in my wedding dress, with his chilling caption: "My future Mrs. Chen." The glass shattered in my hand. My entire world shattered with it. The silence in our once-shared home was deafening, the truth a cold, hard slap. This wasn't about business; it was about betrayal, about a life I poured my soul into, stolen and given to someone else. I was ready to vanish, a ghost in my own life. But the rage that simmered beneath my quiet compliance ignited a spark. Now, I wanted something more than to disappear. I wanted justice and I wanted everything back.

From Trophy Wife to Scientific Queen

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.

Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

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?"

My New Husband Is Too Dangerous To Love!

Kristine planned to surprise her husband with a helicopter for their fifth anniversary, then learned the marriage had been a setup from day one. The man she called a husband never loved her-it was all one hell of a lie. She dropped the act, shed a lot of weight, and rebuilt herself, ready to make every bastard eat their words. After an impulsive remarriage, she accidentally exposed who she really was: a star designer and heir to a billion-dollar empire. And the bodyguard she'd hired was him all along! Who would've known, the "college student" she married turned out to be a feared underworld kingpin.

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

The Unwanted Heiress And The Cold-Hearted CEO

"You don't belong here. Get out!" Hanna, the rightful Wheeler daughter, came back only to be expelled by her family. Her fiancé cheated on her with the fake daughter, her brothers looked down on her, and her father ignored her. Then, she crossed paths with Chris, the formidable leader of the Willis family and her fiancé's uncle. "Let's pretend it never happened." Despite Hanna's hope to part ways, Chris insisted she be responsible. He threatened to reveal Hanna's true talents as an outstanding doctor, a brilliant screenwriter, and the brains behind a famous design studio, forcing her into marriage. Chris was once asked to protect someone. Destiny reunited them in tricky circumstances. He had planned to keep his promise and provide a safe haven, only to find Hanna was far from the delicate woman she seemed. She was witty and cunning...