Beyond Her Cruelest Lie

The Price Of His Double Life

After seven years, my fiancé Elias and I were a month away from our wedding. I' d just been laid off from my architecture firm, but he promised to take care of me, calling me his queen. He was my rock, my future. Then, a single Instagram post shattered my world: a picture of a man's hand with a bandage exactly like the one Elias had, holding the hand of an influencer bragging about her rich, married "sugar daddy." The more I scrolled, the worse it got. He hadn't just cheated; he had orchestrated my firing, calling it "budget cuts," so his mistress could take my place. He even used the engagement party invitations I helped design for their future. He called me his "plain Jane architect," a boring fiancée he was escaping from. For six months, he had been living a double life, all while planning our wedding and systematically destroying mine. So at our lavish engagement party, when he abandoned me mid-celebration for his mistress's fake emergency, I didn't cry. I took the microphone, canceled the wedding, and played every single screenshot of his betrayal on the ballroom's giant screen for our hundreds of guests to see.

From Fake Wife To Billionaire Heiress

I spent two years as the perfect, dutiful wife to Foster Baird. I was his unpaid PR consultant and his emotional punching bag, enduring his mother’s snide comments about my orphan background all for the sake of a "marriage" I thought was real. But when I went to the City Clerk’s office to replace a damaged document, the clerk looked at me with genuine pity. "There is no record of a marriage license for you and Foster Baird. Legally? You aren't married." The betrayal went even deeper. I returned to our penthouse to find Foster’s mistress on our sofa, alongside a five-year-old boy who shared Foster’s exact features. Foster hadn't just cheated; he had a secret family that predated our entire relationship. He had even bribed a doctor to lie to me about being infertile just to keep me docile and focused on his business. When the mistress moved into my guest wing the next day, Foster demanded I act as their hostess and serve them dinner. I watched them play happy family in the home I built, realizing I was never a wife—I was just "cheap labor" he intended to discard once his company stock stabilized. He thought I was a barren charity case with nowhere to go. He was wrong. That same afternoon, I received a call from the executor of the Arthur Kensington estate. I wasn't a nobody; I was the long-lost biological daughter and sole heir to a five-billion-dollar fortune. While Foster was busy planning my replacement, I was accessing the Kensington Trust. I didn't scream, and I didn't cry. I simply bought a fifty-million-dollar mansion and hired a team of forensic accountants to dismantle the Baird Group from the inside out. I crushed my old phone under my designer heel and looked at my new security detail. "Let's get to work," I said.

Her Choice, My New Beginning

On our fifth anniversary, I waited alone at "La Lune," the restaurant of our first date, a single white rose and a velvet proposal box in my pocket. But she never showed. No text, no call, just a creeping coldness in my chest. This wasn't like Sophia. Then I saw it on Instagram: a flashy video from a tech expo. My girlfriend, Sophia Chen, laughing, handing a birthday cake to her new assistant, Leo Davis. The caption: "#BestBossEver." She hadn't forgotten; she'd chosen to celebrate him. Anger, hot and sharp, burned through me. She rented an entire expo hall for him, but for me, not even a text. My world stopped. The rose, the ring, everything felt stupid. I walked out, leaving the rose, dropping the ring into a trash can. The feeling of loss was immense, but a hard resolve replaced it. This wasn't a mistake; it was her choice. Now, I would make mine. I remembered all the red flags I'd ignored. Her growing admiration for Leo, the son of a rumored tech mogul. Her late nights, her defensiveness, her distant voice. The jealousy, the arguments, the feeling of being an obstacle to her success, not a partner. Each incident, each public display of her and Leo's "teamwork" while I was relegated to the sidelines, gnawed at me. She never corrected them. She just let the narrative build. "You're obsessed with feelings, Ethan," she once said. "Success isn't about feelings. It's about power. It's about winning. It's a shame you'll never understand that." She chose what she thought was status and power over five years of my love and sacrifice. Overwhelmed, I packed a bag. Just as I zipped it shut, she walked in, cheerful and oblivious. "Ethan? You're still up?" she asked. I delivered my final blow: "Happy anniversary, Sophia." Her face went pale. On her phone, a notification from Leo flashed: "Tonight was amazing. Can't wait for our next 'celebration.' ;) You're the best, Soph." The winking emoji sealed my fate. I made the call. "Dad," I said, my voice steady. "Is the offer still on the table? The one concerning Olivia Hayes? Yes. The arranged marriage. I accept."

Betrayed Vows, Unfulfilled Wishes

My mother was dying, her last wish for me to be settled, to be married. I rushed to my girlfriend, Olivia, the woman I' d loved for six years. "Let's get married. Now," I pleaded. For twenty-seven agonizing days, I begged, each day met with a new excuse. On the twenty-seventh day, she finally agreed. I waited at the courthouse, a bouquet of my mother' s favorite flowers in hand, hope surging through me. Then my phone buzzed. An Instagram notification. A picture of Olivia, grinning, a marriage certificate held high, Noah Peterson's arm possessively around her. The date on the certificate? The very first day I had started begging her. My world shattered. My phone rang again. It was the hospital. My mother was gone. She had died alone, her last wish unfulfilled, while I was waiting for a woman who had been lying to me for a month, already secretly married to her childhood friend, Noah. The betrayal was absolute. The casual intimacy between Olivia and Noah, the excuses, the constant prioritization of his fabricated problems over my dying mother' s last days-it all flooded my mind. I was a fool, blind to the truth that had been hiding in plain sight. I pulled out my phone, typed a single, final message, "Olivia, never again," and blocked her. I left the city, cutting off everything, ready to rebuild my life, honor my mother, and finally, honor myself.

The Poisonous Marriage's Final Breath

My grandfather, Arthur, was a poison. He sucked the air out of every room he entered, leaving a trail of broken people, including my grandmother whose heart gave out too soon, and my father and aunt, constantly torn down by his biting criticism. At his 80th birthday party, despite my optimistic efforts-a magnificent cake and a thoughtful gift-he publicly humiliated me, sneering at my bakery and calling me a "cripple," then physically shoved me to the floor, injuring my arm. This act finally broke my father' s decades of suppressed rage. He roared, sent my carefully baked cake flying against the wall, and vowed to kill Arthur if he ever touched me again. The family, witnessing his monstrous cruelty, finally united against him, with Aunt Carol sobbing and calling him a monster, especially after he cruelly mocked the memory of Uncle David, who died saving Arthur' s life. I was stunned, then enraged, watching his self-pitying performance. How could a man so toxic, so utterly devoid of empathy, continue to inflict such pain on the people who were supposed to love him? With nothing left to lose, we cut him off entirely, expecting his retaliation. What we didn' t expect was for him to take his malice public on a livestream, only to be exposed by an unexpected truth-teller, leading to his swift, ironic downfall.

Betrayed By Love, Reborn in Vengeance

The warehouse air bit deep, the night before my engagement party. I was Noah Miller, a tech prodigy, about to marry Emily Stone. Now, I lay broken on a frozen concrete floor, limbs shattered, a final blow to my head fading the world to red and black. Men sent by my own fiancée did this. Left for dead, I survived on frozen concrete, only to find myself in a hospital with my mother, Susan Miller, CEO of Miller Corp, vowing revenge. But her words turned arctic as I overheard her: "He and his father were getting too ambitious. They were a threat to Alex' s position." Alex, my adopted brother. The son she truly cherished. They plotted to install Alex as my replacement, to marry Emily and take over the company. My mother casually dismissed my critical injuries, stating my ability to have children was "irrelevant" since I wouldn' t inherit anyway. She chose to let me be crippled. The family I thought I had was a snake pit. The devastating truth hit me - my own mother orchestrated this, all for Alex, and for his biological father, Robert Davis, the man who swapped us at birth. She knew the truth, yet embraced the lie, denying me the love and privilege that should have been mine. My life was a lie. My future, gone. What was the point of surviving? My very existence became a testament to their cruelty. But somewhere deep inside, a flicker of outrage ignited. A hidden phone, a forgotten contact-Leo, a ghost from my street past. He picked up. "I need your help," I rasped. This wasn't about hope. It was a cold, hard promise of revenge.

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.

Once The Bride He Discarded, Now The Love He Can't Forget

Five years of devotion ended when Brynn was left at the altar, watching Richard rush to his true love. Knowing she could never thaw his cold heart, Brynn walked away, ready to start over. After a night of drinking, she woke beside the last man she should ever cross-Nolan, her brother's arch-enemy. As she tried to escape, he caught her, murmuring, "You kissed me all night. Leaving isn't an option." The world saw Nolan as cold and distant, but with Brynn, he indulged her every desire. He even bought her a whole village and held her close, his voice low, deep, and endlessly tempting, his robe falling open to reveal his toned abs. "Want to feel it?"

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

Vows of Vengeance: A Bride Reborn

She thought she was happily married - until she was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. Then came the truth: her "devoted" husband Lucien had been poisoning her for years, all to avenge a dead lover. On her deathbed, Calliope made a vow: If life gave her one more chance, she'd rewrite every ending-starting with his. Now reborn seven years earlier, she tears off the wedding dress and walks away from Lucien's lies. To protect her family and reclaim her stolen legacy, Calliope proposes a marriage of convenience to Conrad: a cold, enigmatic firefighter with more power-and more secrets-than anyone realizes. But Lucien is also reborn. And just as cruel. But this time, she's not the naïve bride. She's a tech genius. A business queen. A woman with nothing to lose. And Conrad? He's not just fire and steel-he's the weapon she never knew she needed. They're not here to survive. They're here to win.

Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."

The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows

Brenna lived with her adoptive parents for twenty years, enduring their exploitation. When their real daughter appeared, they sent Brenna back to her true parents, thinking they were broke. In reality, her birth parents belonged to a top circle that her adoptive family could never reach. Hoping Brenna would fail, they gasped at her status: a global finance expert, a gifted engineer, the fastest racer... Was there any end to the identities she kept hidden? After her fiancé ended their engagement, Brenna met his twin brother. Unexpectedly, her ex-fiancé showed up, confessing his love...