Love, Loss, and Vengeful Hearts

Signed Away: His New Wife

In my past life, I died alone in a sterile hospital bed while my fiancé, Dyllan, comforted his "foster sister" Heather through a fake panic attack. He missed the birth and death of our child because Heather was "too delicate" to be left alone. Even as I took my last breath, he was wiping away her crocodile tears, ignoring my desperate calls. I sacrificed my dreams, my money, and my life for him, only to be a forgotten footnote. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the City Hall counter, the marriage license waiting. Dyllan tapped his foot impatiently, checking his phone. "Hurry up, Ivy. Heather called. She' s having an episode. She needs me." The old Ivy would have trembled and obeyed, desperate for his approval. But I just smiled, a cold, calculated expression he didn't recognize. "Go to her," I said, pushing him toward the door. "I'll handle the paperwork. Family comes first, right?" He rushed out without a backward glance, relieved to be the hero again. Left alone with the official document, I didn't write my own name on the bride's line. With a steady hand and a heart full of vengeance, I wrote Heather Rosales. Congratulations, Dyllan. You're legally married to the burden you love so much. And I am finally free.

The Alpha's Unwanted Omega Medicine

For three years, I was Alpha Kaelen's secret. My touch was the only cure for the silver-poison curse that wracked his body with agony, and he promised that if he hadn't found his fated mate by my twenty-fifth birthday, he would choose me. On my twenty-fifth birthday, he brought home another woman. He demanded the key to his penthouse back and tossed a limitless credit card on the bed. "This is for your service," he said coldly. His new love, Lila, was a master manipulator. When she framed me for kidnapping her, Kaelen nearly drowned my sick mother in a swamp to force a confession out of me. When she framed me again for pushing her grandmother, he slapped me in front of the entire pack and demanded I kneel. I couldn't understand how the man who once protected me could become my greatest tormentor, blinded by a conniving she-wolf. The final straw came when his curse flared up. He tried to force himself on me, only to accuse me of trying to trap him when Lila walked in. That day, I severed our bond and left for a rival pack, where my childhood friend—my fated second-chance mate—had just woken from a six-year coma.

My Husband's Twisted Secret Life

My husband took me to a secluded villa for the weekend to honor the fifth anniversary of his sister's death. But I found her alive, laughing on the patio with him and my parents. They were bouncing a little boy on their laps-a boy with my husband's hair and his "dead" sister's eyes. I heard Mark call me his "dutiful, grieving wife," laughing about how easy I was to fool. My own mother looked at Annelise with a love she had never once shown me. My entire five-year marriage was a performance designed to keep me occupied while they lived their real lives in secret. He didn't just confess; he told me I was nothing but a "convenient solution." Then he revealed their final plan: they had already arranged to have me involuntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital, using my fabricated "grief" as the reason. I ran. After setting a fire as a diversion, I hid in a ditch by the main road, my life in ashes. With nowhere else to turn, I made a desperate call to the one person I knew my husband feared: his biggest rival.

One Hundred Pranks, One True End

For two years, I lived a fairy tale with Liam Hayes, the tech mogul. He' d lost his memory in a terrible accident, but he remembered me, or so he said. I, a struggling artist, bought into his relentless passion. We were building a life, a family even. I held a positive pregnancy test, ready to share our news. Then, I heard my college rival, Chloe Jenkins, speak from his office, her voice like sugar-coated poison. "Two whole years. Ninety-nine times. You promised." My blood ran cold as Liam's sharp, cynical laugh filled the room. This wasn't the gentle man I knew. He confirmed it. My entire relationship had been a cruel game, a "prank" designed to make me look like a fool. They mocked my ruined artworks, my canceled shows, every humiliation I' d endured. Liam had been there each time, comforting me with fake sympathy, while secretly logging his "pranks." Chloe purred, "One hundred pranks, one hundred proofs of your love for me." Liam' s reply, dripping with adoration, shattered me: "She was just a means to an end. A pawn." The pregnancy test in my pocket felt like a block of ice. My love, our life, our future baby-all a sick joke. My fairy tale was a cage, my prince a monster. He wanted one hundred pranks, a century of my pain. When I found his hidden sketchbook, full of intimate drawings of me and a receipt for an engagement ring, a dangerous hope flickered. Had he felt something real? But that hope died when I called a women's clinic. This child was conceived in deceit, an extension of his game. I refused to bring a child into this twisted world. At a yacht party, after my procedure, Liam's friends, at Chloe's urging, forced me to eat poisoned oysters, designed to induce a miscarriage. They knew. "He didn't want a child with her tying him down," Chloe hissed. "He was just waiting for the right moment for the problem to go away. I just provided the opportunity." I bled, the pain excruciating, as Liam, seeing me, yelled for a helicopter. Chloe, cold and final, drilled into my fading consciousness: "Don't you dare forget who you're doing all this for. You love me. Remember?" Liam' s strained reply: "I know, Chloe. I... I know." How could he? How could the man who held me at night, whispering endearments, be the same man who orchestrated my destruction? Why him? Why me? Ava Miller died that day. But Elise Vance was born, and she was coming for them.

Her Cold Eyes, His Burning Revenge

The cold rain mirrored the desolation inside me that day, three years ago, when the company I built from nothing was declared bankrupt. The final, crushing blow wasn't a market crash, but sabotage orchestrated by the three people I trusted most: my sister, Sarah Miller; my fiancée, Emily Davis; and my "best friend," Kevin Chen. I remembered standing in that same rain as a luxury car pulled up, their triumphant smiles confirming my ruin. "You're like a dog!" Kevin had sneered. Sarah's pitying gaze felt colder than the winter rain, and Emily merely looked away. Their laughter echoed, drowning me in despair until everything went black. Why them? How could this happen? Then, I opened my eyes again. The rain was gone. The cold was gone. I was sitting in an auditorium, back in time on the very day it all began, ready to pitch the revolutionary software they stole. This time, things would be different.

A Husband's Fatal Choice

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. My husband, Mark, walked in with a woman who was young, Chinese, and very pregnant. He introduced her as his assistant, Mei, as she surveyed our home with an air of ownership, her eyes pointedly avoiding mine. Mei' s gaze finally landed on me, laced with cold condescension. "Sarah, right?" she purred. "Hand-wash my lingerie. And later, when Mark and I are together, you can kneel and serve us." My heart turned to ice as Mark just smiled, seeing nothing wrong. I saw the tech-neck, the calculated cruelty in her eyes - this wasn' t just an affair; it was a deliberate humiliation. Then, Mark scoffed, "Oh, here we go again. This tired act. Honestly, Sarah, I' m more bored of this than I am of sleeping with you." Their cruel laughter echoed, and I knew: something inside me had finally snapped. I walked forward, took their hands, forced them together. "For people from such a 'cultured' background," I said, my voice low and clear, "you both sure act like animals." "Since the 'Mrs. Miller' title is so great, you can have it. You two enjoy your happily ever after. Just leave the rest of us out of your mess." I turned my back, walking out, remembering my father' s forgotten warning: Men change, Sarah. Be careful who you give your heart to. I barely stepped onto the cold pavement when Mark' s voice cut through the air. "Come back here and sign the divorce papers." He thrust them at me, demanding I sign for Mei' s peace of mind, promising to remarry me later. His words were hollow, a broken record of lies. Then, his eyes landed on my jade pendant, a gift from our first anniversary. "Mei has been having nightmares," he said, demanding it. "She needs it." I hesitated, clutching the last symbol of the man I thought I married. "What, you can' t even pretend to be composed now? It' s just a necklace." With a sharp movement, I tore it off. Mei snatched it, her triumphant glint turning to feigned clumsiness as she let it shatter at her feet. "Oh, dear," she cooed, then gasped, pressing her leg. "Ouch! A shard… it cut me." Mark panicked, fumbling for his phone. Mei looked up at me, her voice just loud enough, "Sarah… I know you' re upset. But you didn' t have to do that. I know you weren' t trying to curse my baby on purpose… right?" Mark' s head snapped up, his fury now blazing at me. "What did you say?" he snarled. "It' s nothing, Mark," Mei sobbed, clinging to him. "Sarah didn' t mean it." His hand swung through the air. SLAP. I stumbled, falling onto the shattered jade. A sharp pain shot through my hand as green shards embedded themselves in my palm. Blood welled. Mark stood over me, chest heaving. "Apologize! What the hell is wrong with you, Sarah? You were never like this!" He roared for an apology, for a crime I didn' t commit. The man who once defended me was now a stranger, consumed by hate. I laughed, a bitter, broken sound. Slowly, I pushed myself up, ignoring the intense pain. "I can' t do it," I said, my voice steady. "I can' t apologize." His face turned a dangerous red. He grabbed my other arm, fingers digging in. "Fine! If you won' t apologize, then you' ll compensate her. Give me that bracelet." It was my mother' s, my last connection to her. "No! You can' t have this!" I clutched my wrist, pulling back. Just as he lunged, a terrifying grinding sound came from above. The huge chandelier swayed, then plummeted towards me. There was no time to think. So this is how it ends. Mark yanked Mei away, shielding her, not even glancing at me. "Sarah!" he screamed, but it was too late. The world exploded in a crash of shattering glass. I was alive, somehow. Mark, seeing Mei was safe, scrambled over, his panic replaced by cold suspicion. I woke in a sterile hospital room, Mark by my bed, his face stone. "You' re awake? Stop pretending. It didn' t even hit you." "The chandelier…" My voice was hoarse. "Don' t bother," he cut me off. "The servants confessed. You paid them to loosen the screws. You wanted to hurt Mei." It was a complete, fabricated lie. Mei was wheeled in, dabbing her eyes. "Oh, Mark," she trembled. "Don' t be so hard on her. I' m sure she didn' t mean for it to be so… dramatic. I forgive her." Her flawless performance painted me as the crazy, jealous wife. I wanted to scream, but what was the point? The truth didn' t matter. It was whatever Mei said it was. I just laughed, a dry, bitter sound. Exhaustion washed over me. It was hopeless. Mark took my silence as admission. "Since you refuse to apologize," he said, chillingly matter-of-fact, "we' ll have to find another way for you to compensate Mei." He gestured to Mei. "Her leg was scratched. The doctor said it might leave a scar. We' ve arranged a small skin graft surgery. We' ll use some of your skin to repair the damage." Skin graft? From me? "You… what?" I stammered. "It' s just a small patch," he soothed, "from your inner arm. A doctor will be here soon." He was serious. My body, to punish me. A primal scream tore from my throat. "NO!" I thrashed wildly. The IV needle ripped out, blood trickling. "You can' t do this! What did I do wrong? Why are you bullying me?!" He grabbed my shoulders. "Sarah, stop it! Mei is all alone here. She' s been crying nonstop!" His pathetic excuses blurred. He knew I had no one, having rebelled against my family for him. He was using it to destroy me. "Sarah, just calm down," he pleaded. "After the baby is born, I' ll divorce Mei. I' ll remarry you, I swear it!" The same old promise. The same meaningless lie. This lie, finally, gave me clarity. My screaming stopped. My thrashing ceased. "Get out," I said, my voice eerily calm. I reached for my phone, hands shaking, and scrolled to a single entry untouched for seven years: "A." I pressed call. He answered on the first ring. "Come and get me," I whispered, then hung up. My life was about to change forever, but first, I had to survive.

Free At Last, Untouchable Now

For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts. Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son. In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way. Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged. Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind. When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable

Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes

Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.

Secret Baby: The Jilted Wife's Final Goodbye

I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.