The Betrayed Man's Unexpected Wife

My Fiancé Believed Her Lie

The sharp sting across my cheek snapped my head back, my hair flying. It came from Chloe, the young intern, whose hand was still raised, her eyes wide with a calculated fear that twisted into a perfect lie. "Ava, I'm so sorry," she whispered, staging a stumble that sent her crashing dramatically to the floor as Leo, my fiancé, burst into my office, his face a mask of thunderous rage. He didn't even glance at me, rushing straight to Chloe' s side, cradling her as she sobbed a manufactured tale of my jealousy. His mother's smug voice suddenly echoed from his phone, "Leo, I told you she was unstable. Not fit to be part of our family." And then, his command, "Apologize to Chloe." Followed by a terrifying countdown, leveraging my younger brother Finn's fragile mental state against me. I swallowed the humiliation and forced the words out, "I'm sorry, Chloe." My hand, resting on my stomach, trembled as a cold dread washed over me-the faint flutter of life I' d felt last week now a lead weight. This couldn't be happening. My perfect life, shattering around me, and I knew, with horrifying certainty, this was only the beginning.

The Wife He Destroyed Returns

The world tilted, then fell away, the polished marble floor rushing up to meet me. One moment, I was adjusting lights for my new art exhibit, the next, a sickening crack left me in darkness, my legs gone. Awakening in a hospital, the rhythmic beeping of machines and a strange, mechanical ticking from my chest were my only companions. My fiancé, Mark, was just outside the door, his voice low and urgent. "Is it done, Mr. Henderson? Is everything taken care of?" he asked the gallery owner. "The ladder was tampered with, just as you instructed," Henderson replied, his voice gravelly. "It was a tragic accident. No one will suspect a thing." Then I heard the doctor: "The legs were unsalvageable. The damage to her heart was severe. We had to implant the synthetic unit. She'll live, but she'll never walk again." "Perfect. Absolutely perfect," Mark laughed, his voice stripped of all warmth. My private collection, my legacy, was the "real prize" he needed for his gallery, and their deal included securing a scholarship for Emily, his protégé. This was all for Emily. Panic clawed at my throat. My art, my life' s passion, was stolen, and the man I was going to marry, the father of the child growing inside me, had orchestrated it all. For money. For his gallery. For another woman' s career. The pain from my body raged, but it was nothing compared to the cold, dead void that opened inside me. I was a machine, my heart ticking like a clock counting down a life I no longer wanted. My instincts led me to my stomach, now flat and soft. The tiny life, a secret meant for Mark, was a lie. When a nurse mentioned prenatal care, I choked out, "Cancel it. I want to schedule an abortion." My tears were the last I would shed for the life he had stolen. Mark' s performance for the outside world was flawless, but I saw the ugly, rotten canvas beneath his beautiful lies. He hadn' t loved me; he' d loved my assets. Days blurred into pain and physical therapy. Mark brought Emily to visit, her feigned sympathy twisting knives in my gut. He even boasted that she was cataloging my stolen collection. He was replacing me, in every possible way, and flaunting it. When he proposed a "documentary" to exploit my broken body, I knew I was trapped. He' d built this cage deliberately. He' d stolen everything, leaving me with nothing. But a different appointment awaited. They found a body by the river, a white shoe, and a note, leading Mark to believe I had taken my own life. Emily' s hysterical accusations that I was faking it turned his fury on her. He spun a tale of tragic loss, cementing his image as the grieving fiancé. Mark grieved not for me, but for his ruined scheme. He cast me as a villain-a cheater, pregnant with another man' s child-to absolve himself. But as David Chen, my kind friend, stood at my grave, his heart heavy, I sat alive in his living room in Norway. "He cried," David said, his voice thick. "He also told me you were pregnant with another man's child." The plan was desperate, conceived from the ashes of that day. David, the only one I trusted, had helped me fake my death, swap my body with a Jane Doe, and build a new life as Anna Jensen. My escape was flawless. David loved me, not for what I had, but for who I was-scars, synthetic heart, and all. He saw the woman, not the wheelchair. He understood. And in that moment, a fragile seed of hope began to sprout. Two years passed. I became a renowned art restorer, and with David, co-founded Chen-Miller Restorations. Then came the opportunity of a lifetime: a project in New York, my old home. I was tired of hiding. I was strong. I was loved. I was whole. At the Harrison Foundation' s gala, I saw him again. Mark. Thinner, haggard, staring at me as if I were a ghost. "Sarah?" he whispered, hoarse. "You're dead." "Reports of my death were, as you can see, greatly exaggerated." He begged for another chance, blaming his failures on my supposed death, clinging to pity. "I know you still love me. You have to." I laughed, cold and dismissive. "Love you? Mark, I don't even know you." He grabbed my arm, his old anger surfacing. "You owe me an explanation! Prove you're her!" "She doesn't have to prove anything to you," David' s calm, steady voice cut through the tension as he stepped protectively to my side. I held up my hand, my diamond catching the light. "This is David Chen, my partner and my fiancé." Mark stared, defeated. I looked him straight in the eye: "The Sarah Miller you knew, the one you tried to destroy, is dead. You killed her. Let her rest in peace. You and I, Mark, are done." I walked away, leaning on David, leaving Mark a relic of a past I had finally, completely overcome. Emily was arrested for fraud, Mark' s gallery liquidated, and he faded into obscurity. David and I married, surrounded by loving family. My story was a testament to resilience, healing, and a love that empowered, called me whole. I found my true masterpiece: a life built on truth, love, and unshakable self-worth. I was home.

The Mother's Second Chance

I was a devoted mother, my world revolving around my precious baby girl, Lily. All I wanted was to keep her safe, to give her the best life possible, despite living under my in-laws' roof. But my mother-in-law, Karen, was a monster of penny-pinching cruelty. Her idiotic refusal to pay for proper medical care for Lily's jaundice, choosing a blazing hot lamp instead, was just the beginning. Then came her ultimate act of malice: swapping Lily's vital probiotic with her lethal pesticide, Bora-Kill. My baby, my sweet Lily, died a horrific, agonizing death. My husband, Mike, blamed me, calling it an accident, while his father, Frank, backed them both up. Consumed by a rage so pure it burned, I ended it all, taking them with me in a fiery gas explosion. The last thing I remembered was the sweet, cloying scent of gas, and a chilling satisfaction. Then I opened my eyes, not to death, but to the familiar, dingy floral wallpaper of Karen' s living room. Disbelief warred with a crushing wave of horror: I was alive, somehow, back in the very moment the nightmare began. And I heard it again – the piercing cry of my baby. This time, there would be no mistake. No more weeping for a broken life. I had the foresight, the memory of every single treacherous move they would make. My grief now fueled an unstoppable resolve: I would protect my Lily, and I would make every single one of them pay.

The Billionaire's Ego: My Ruthless Divorce

I had been a "decoration piece" for Kenton Parker for three years, a contract wife bought to pay off my father’s gambling debts. I lived in a cold penthouse, making his coffee and answering his phones, while he treated me with the clinical indifference of a stranger. On our third anniversary, I waited alone at the city’s most exclusive restaurant, only to see a news alert flash on my phone. Kenton wasn't coming. He was caught on camera at a hospital, looking at his "friend," ballerina Blanca Donovan, with a raw, frantic worry he had never once shown me, not even when I fell down a flight of stairs. I finally snapped and filed for divorce, citing his "irreversible erectile dysfunction" just to destroy his massive ego. I thought I was free, but Kenton retaliated with a cruelty that left me breathless. He froze every bank account I owned and had his secretary smash the last photo I had of my mother. He reminded me of the five-million-dollar penalty in my contract—money I didn't have. "You don't get to leave until I say so," he roared, dragging me into his office. He used my father’s life as a leash, forcing me to play the part of a doting wife at his family’s Hamptons estate to please his sick mother. He wanted to starve me out until I crawled back to his side. I couldn't understand how a man could be so heartless. He didn't want my heart, yet he refused to let me go, treating my life like a line item in a corporate merger. He wanted to keep me as his prisoner while he spent his nights with another woman. But Kenton made one fatal mistake. He thought I was just a broke, submissive secretary with nowhere to turn. He didn't know that I was "Vee," a world-renowned art restorer with a secret legacy and a six-figure commission waiting for me. As we shared a bed in the Hamptons and he pulled me against his chest, whispering that I was "his," I didn't feel comfort. I felt the cold, hard spark of a woman who was finally ready to burn his contract to the ground.

My Husband's Old Flame Gave Me My Daughter, Then Stole My Son

My picturesque New England life shattered the moment the school nurse called. Lily, my bright, artistic daughter, AB-positive? Impossible. I'm O-negative. The doctor's genetics lesson was a punch to the gut: Lily couldn't be mine. Then, the real earthquake hit. Overhearing Grant, my devoted husband, revealed a sinister conspiracy. Bea Baker, his old flame, was back, and Lily was her daughter through a twisted surrogacy plot. Grant was secretly bankrolling her silence. The betrayal deepened. He'd been drugging me, keeping me from conceiving. My 'perfect' life was a lie, meticulously crafted by a man I barely knew. He'd even developed Bea's family farm into a soulless mall, crushing her family in the process. Fury and disgust warred within me. Bea knew too much about my 'miscarriage.' She hinted at Northwood Pharma, experimental testing and my stolen baby used for science. Grant's face, smiling, taunting, haunted me. He was meeting Bea tomorrow. The affair was current, not just old history. He wants her to live with us! This charade ends now. My quest for truth had just begun. How deep does this rabbit hole go? And what happened to my own baby? Retribution is coming.

The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband

I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news. "Parole denied." My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU. "Sign it. You walk out today." I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation. I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate. I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood. As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home. "Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life." I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground.

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

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 Heiress' Secret: Ex-Husband, Meet The Real Me

For three years, Deanna endured scorn in a one-sided marriage. When Connor forced her to choose between her career and a divorce, she didn't hesitate-she walked away. Determined to reclaim her birthright, Deanna returned as the brilliant heiress to a medical conglomerate. Her ex and his family begged for another chance, but it was too late. With a tycoon father, a legendary healer mother, a CEO brother who adored her, and a showbiz powerhouse sibling, Deanna's life overflowed with power. Even her arrogant rival, heir to billions, only ever had a soft spot for her.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.