The Unwanted Arranged Marriage

The Stolen Legacy: A Genius Heiress Returns

I was a top-tier CTO in Boston, but I threw it all away the moment my grandmother’s heart began to fail. The only doctor who could save her was in Manhattan, protected by a wall of money and power I didn't have. Then the real blow landed: the man who destroyed my family was now a billionaire at Zenith BioTech. Conrad King hadn't just stolen my grandfather’s company; he had orchestrated the hostile takeover that led to my grandfather's stroke and left us with nothing but debt and a broken name. We moved to New York, but the city was a nightmare. The elite specialist's office laughed at my pleas, and I was nearly trampled by Sean Sterling, a cold-blooded mogul who looked at me like I was a glitch in his perfect world. My grandmother gripped my hand in her hospital bed, weeping as she begged me to stay away from the man who had ruined us. "Promise me you won't go to him," she rasped through her oxygen mask. "He'll chew you up." I promised her, but it was the biggest lie of my life. I watched the news as Conrad King smiled at charity galas, living the life that belonged to my family. The unfairness of it burned in my chest like acid. How could a thief be celebrated as a hero while we were left to die in the shadows? I'm done being the victim. I’ve sanitized my resume and applied for a position at Zenith BioTech. I’m going to infiltrate his empire, take back what he stole, and burn his smile off his face.

The Scar That Freed My Soul

To force my husband to sign the divorce papers, I had to press a blade against my own neck until I bled. He was hesitating because he didn't want a scandal, even though he had just watched his mistress push me down the stairs, killing our unborn child. While I lay bleeding on the floor, Calvin didn't call an ambulance for me; he comforted her because she was "scared." I walked away with a jagged scar and a broken soul, leaving them to their stolen happiness. Five years later, at a party, the game "Never Have I Ever" brought everything crashing back. Calvin looked at me with haunted eyes, ignoring his now-wife Brea, and whispered, "I made a mistake. I want you back." Brea went ballistic, screaming that I was the home-wrecker, and tried to attack me again in a jealous rage. But this time, I wasn't the victim. I turned to my handsome neighbor, Derek, and closed the door on Calvin's pleading face. The next morning, a headline flashed on my phone: "Tech Mogul Calvin Bishop Stabbed to Death by Wife in Police Station." I touched the scar on my neck and finally smiled. Karma didn't just knock; she kicked the door down.

He Chose Her Over Us

I nursed my husband back from a coma, pregnant with the child I thought would complete our perfect life. Then his ex-girlfriend reappeared, also claiming to be pregnant with his baby. During a staged kidnapping, he made his choice. He offered me and our unborn child to the kidnappers in exchange for her. He watched me fall, saw the blood staining the concrete, and walked away to save the woman who was lying to him. He thought he was leaving me to die. But I survived. And the first thing I told my rescuer was, "I'm thinking of changing my baby's father."

His Deception, Her Destiny In London

"The position has been waiting for you for three years, Elaine. Just say the word." The voice on the phone was calm, deep, and familiar. It was Evan Mcknight, her former mentor, now a world-renowned architect. An hour earlier, she' d signed papers for her younger brother, Kelsey, to be moved to palliative care. The experimental treatment that could save him required a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit she didn' t have. Her savings were gone, and her business, built from scratch with her boyfriend, Brett Vega, was a success, but he' d locked her out of the accounts. As she stood up to pawn her Patek Philippe watch, a commotion erupted. Brett burst through the doors, cradling Daniella Chen, who was wailing dramatically about a sprained ankle. He didn' t even glance her way. He spotted her, pulled her into a supply closet, and hissed, "What are you doing here? This is all part of the plan. I' m making her think she' s won." He stuffed five hundred dollars into her hand, telling her to leave before Daniella saw her. He thought she was there for money, for pocket change. She let the bills fall to the floor. He was so good at lying, at performing. He didn' t see her brokenness, her grief, only an inconvenience to his grand scheme. It was over. She knew it with a certainty that was both terrifying and liberating. It was time to go to London.

Shattered Devotion, Reborn Vengeance

For five years, my world revolved around Sarah "Oracle" Vance, my boss and the woman I loved, pouring every ounce of my devotion into her life. Then came the mission that broke everything: Sarah was "captured" by a rival tech conglomerate, and the ransom was my life's work, an AI called "Ghost." Without hesitation, I sacrificed Ghost, my greatest creation, enduring a torturous procedure that nearly killed me, all to save her. But when I staggered back to the agency, hollowed out and aching, I found Sarah wrapped in the arms of another man, Dr. Ben Carter, laughing at me, calling me a "love-sick puppy" and "desperate for validation" – exposing that her capture was a lie, a setup orchestrated by her to steal my AI. My world shattered, every memory of my devotion twisting into a sick joke. Just as I resolved to walk away, fully broken, Sarah's young daughter, Lily, was kidnapped by unknown assailants, held hostage in the very data center I designed, rigged to explode. Despite Sarah's betrayal, a primal instinct took over, and I plunged into the inferno, racing against a digital timer, shielding Lily with my own body as bullets tore through me, making the ultimate sacrifice as the building collapsed around me. They declared me dead, a heroic casualty, but I was saved and rebuilt by Olivia Thorne, the CEO of the very company Sarah blamed. Now, a ghost reborn, the world believes I' m gone, leaving me free to uncover the true architects of this agonizing betrayal and exact a reckoning for the life they stole.

Betrayed By Blood, Reclaimed By Love

A splash of ice-cold water shocked me awake, but the smell of stale takeout and cheap air freshener told me something was terribly wrong. The last thing I remembered was a dark cargo container, the scent of the sea, and the chilling realization that my own brother, Liam, had sold me to human traffickers to pay off his gambling debts. I was supposed to be dead, yet here he was, whining about co-signing a loan, completely oblivious. Then I saw the date: three years ago. Three years before my life completely fell apart, three years before he' d betray me. A cold, sharp rage drowned out years of guilt and my mother' s dying wish: "Always look after your brother, Chloe. Promise me." That promise had been a chain around my neck, strangling me until I lost my marriage, my savings, my home, and finally, my life. Not again. I looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time without the filter of sisterly obligation. I saw a parasite. Then I did something I had never done in my entire life. I slapped him. His eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell, Chloe?" he shrieked. "No," I said, my voice low and steady. "I'm not signing anything. Not today. Not ever again." "You don't get to be 'done'! You owe me! I'm your brother!" he snarled, grabbing my arm. "A brother doesn't sell his sister to traffickers for a hundred grand," I said calmly. The blood drained from his face as his grip loosened. He hadn't done it yet in this timeline, but the idea, the calculation, flickered in his eyes. He didn' t know how I knew. And that gave me all the power. I was back, and this time, I would be the one writing the ending.

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

Shunned By An Alpha, Cherished By A Lycan

Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband’s aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason’s coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason’s mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I’m starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

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."