The Wife They Cast Aside

His Proposal, Her Two Choices

In my past life, a divine power offered my sister and me a choice between two life systems. Olivia, my older sister, eagerly chose the "Socialite Siren," while I was left with the "Independent Achiever," a system that demanded tireless, solitary effort. Ten years later, I had achieved hard-won but lonely success as a tech startup founder, while Olivia, having manipulated her way through the city's elite, lay paralyzed after a brutal accident. Her resentment, however, burned brighter than ever, culminating in her stabbing me repeatedly in a hospital room. My vision faded, only to snap open again. I was back at the moment of choice, the shimmering orbs presenting themselves once more. A cruel smile twisted Olivia's lips as she snatched the "Independent Achiever," believing she was taking the superior path and leaving me with the "leftovers." She smirked. "Looks like you're stuck with the leftovers, Chloe. Good luck trying to charm your way through life. I'll be watching you fail." This time, I almost laughed. After reliving the brutal isolation of the "Independent Achiever," I knew true independence wasn't about lonely hell. Olivia, blinded by greed and pride, had no idea I was finally free. With profound relief, I touched the pink orb. "I choose the 'Socialite Siren' system." This time, I wouldn't be its prisoner; I'd change the rules completely.

The Scapegoat Heiress's Grand Comeback

I gave up my family's fortune and a political dynasty for my fiancé of five years, Hoyt. I chose him over everything for a simple life. But when his socialite mistress, Bella, got a DUI, he demanded I take the fall. When I told him I was pregnant, he ordered me to get an abortion. "I'm in love with Bella," he said, his eyes cold. "I always have been." He brought her into our home. At a fundraiser, she tripped me, and as I lay bleeding on the floor, Hoyt walked away. His mother then had me abducted from the hospital, and in a cold, abandoned warehouse, I lost our child. They took everything from me-my love, my future, my baby. They thought they had erased me, the quiet, unassuming grant writer they saw as a convenient scapegoat. They were wrong. At their glamorous engagement party, I made my entrance. And with me, my grandfather, Senator Abelardo Brown. They had no idea who they'd just declared war on.

My Forced Marriage To A Coma Knight

Eleanore POV: My family forced me to marry Kayson Knight, a man who'd been in a coma for five years. It was a sacrifice to save our family's legacy, a life sentence I accepted for their sake. But on my adopted sister Josie's birthday, she framed me for stealing a family heirloom. My parents, who had always favored her, didn't hesitate. "Guards! Search her!" my father roared. They pinned me down in front of all their guests. My brother held my arms while my childhood sweetheart looked away. They had already pushed me down the stairs and left me for dead once before. They had taken my kidney for Josie. This was just the final humiliation. But they didn't know my secret. I had been recording Josie's lies for weeks. As the guards' hands closed on me, I screamed, "You want the truth? Let's hear it then!" and pressed play on the hidden recorder.

Broken Canvas, Unbroken Spirit Rises

I had just sold my entire art collection, a massive sum that was supposed to be our new beginning. I couldn't wait to see the look on my husband Axel's face. But when he walked through the door, he didn't see a successful artist. He saw a cheater. "Who did you sleep with for that money?" he spat, his words fueled by his mother's poison. His rage exploded. He tore my studio apart, shredding my life's work. Then he turned on me, kicking my pregnant belly until I miscarried our child on the floor of my ruined dreams. As I lay there, bleeding and broken, a call came from the fertility clinic. The paternity test was positive. The baby he had just killed was his own. He fell to his knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. But the man I married was gone. He had destroyed my art, my mother, and my child. Now, it was my turn to destroy him.

The Unwanted Mistress Becomes The Rival's Queen

The moment Damien shoved me into a waiter's tray to catch his brother's widow, I knew I had lost. For eight years, I was his sanctuary. But Vivian was carrying the "Family Heir," and that made her a saint. He didn't just catch her; he moved her into the Master Suite—the room he had promised to me—while I was relegated to the guest wing like a servant. When Vivian whispered the truth to me with a smirk—that her late husband was sterile and she had drugged Damien to fake the timeline—I rushed to tell him. "She's lying about the baby, Damien! Aaron was sterile!" But he didn't believe me. "Enough of your jealousy, Estelle," he roared, shielding her. "You will respect the mother of my legacy." To prove my submission, he forced me to take her wedding dress shopping. When a heavy iron rack tipped over in the boutique, Damien moved with inhuman speed. He dove to protect Vivian, wrapping her in a safe cocoon. He left me standing there. The metal crashed down, crushing my ribs and pinning me to the floor. As I gasped for air, tasting blood, I watched him carry her out without looking back once. I woke up in the hospital to the sound of him comforting her in the next room. He hadn't even asked if I survived. That night, I didn't cry. I ripped the IV from my arm, shredded every photo of us in the penthouse, and boarded a plane to a neutral territory where the Don's power meant nothing. By the time he found the engagement ring I left in the trash, I was already gone.

Too Late For His Love

I was the genius who built my husband Blake' s billion-dollar empire. For ten years, I was his secret weapon, the ghost in the machine who wrote the code that made him a king. But when he fell for his doe-eyed intern, Cassidy, the man I loved became a monster. He threatened to throw our five-year-old son from his private jet just to get her back. But that was nothing. When Cassidy faked a fatal illness, he orchestrated a car crash that left me paralyzed on an operating table, my body a harvest ground for his new obsession. I was awake but unable to move as they took my bone marrow. I heard him give the order: "Keep her alive. If this doesn't work, she has another kidney we can use." He thought he had broken me, that I was just another asset to be parted out. He forgot one thing: a genius always has a contingency plan. I activated Project Chimera, an escape protocol I' d built years ago. As the military helicopter lifted off with my son and me, I gave my final order: "Wipe the servers. Burn the lab to the ground." He could have his little bird. I was taking everything else.

Too Late For Regret: The Genius Heiress Who Shines

Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."

The Cursed Heiress: Now I'm Their Billionaire Nightmare

Nadine reunited with her family, convinced she'd been discarded, rage simmering-only to find collapse: her mother unstable, her father poisoned; a pianist brother trapped in a sham marriage, a detective brother framed and jailed, the youngest dragged into a gang. While the fake daughter mocked and colluded, Nadine moved in secret-healing her mother, curing her father, ending the union, clearing charges, and lifting the youngest to leader. Rumors said she rode coattails, unworthy of Rhys, the unmatched magnate. Few knew she was a renowned healer, legendary assassin, mysterious tycoon... Rhys knelt. "Marry me! The entire empire is yours for the taking!"

Craving The Wrong Brother

She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.  

She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen

Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"

Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles

I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.

Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises

My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool. For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office. The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation. My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order. Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve. Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one.