My Husband's Perfect Deception

From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride

My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through. That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister. But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library. They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien. Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve. I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen. This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over. "No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."

The Surgeon Heiress's Cold-Blooded Revenge

I woke up strapped to a cold steel operating table, the blinding light of a surgical lamp burning my retinas. I was a doctor, but I wasn't the one holding the scalpel this time. Then I heard the voice of my stepfather, Arthur Bailey—the man who had seized my family’s entire estate after my father’s death. He wasn't there to save me; he was there to sell me. "Just get the kidney on ice for Archer," he told the butcher in scrubs. "Do whatever you want with the rest of her." This wasn't a hospital; it was a slaughterhouse in Queens. To escape, I had to dislocate my own thumb to slip the leather cuffs and use a scalpel to slice my way out of the room. Covered in blood and grime, I crashed Arthur's high-society gala at the Plaza Hotel, only to find my family pretending to mourn my "mental breakdown" while they planned my permanent disappearance into an asylum. Even as I stood before them, dripping with sewer water and rage, they tried to have me dragged away as a lunatic. I was a top-tier trauma surgeon, yet I was being treated like a piece of meat by the people who were supposed to be my family. The betrayal tasted like copper in my mouth, a cold, slow panic turning into a simmering, absolute fury. I didn't understand how they could look at me and see nothing but a collection of spare parts. That's when Cedric Mullen, the billionaire I’d been legally married to while he was in a coma, stepped out of the shadows to claim me. He didn't want a wife; he wanted a legal asset to unlock his inheritance. I looked into his predator's eyes and signed his contract, trading my silence for his resources. I told him, "I want Arthur Bailey destroyed. I want him to feel what it’s like to be cut open and left for dead." I wasn't a victim anymore; I was a reckoning.

Replaced By A Mistress: The Wife's Revenge

I went to the City Clerk's office to update my passport, desperate to feel alive again after losing my ability to draw. Instead, the clerk handed me a reality that killed me. "Mrs. Crosby," she whispered, her face drained of color. "You aren't married to Bennet. The divorce was finalized three years ago. On October 12th." The date hit me harder than a physical blow. October 12th was the day my right hand was crushed. The day Gianna Skinner, a woman obsessed with my husband, shattered twenty-seven bones in my drawing hand with a marble bust. Bennet, the most ruthless Don in New York, had promised me justice. He swore he locked Gianna in a dungeon to rot for hurting his "Angel." But the screen in front of me told a different story. He had married Gianna the very same day he divorced me. I drove to the Lake House where she was supposed to be suffering. I didn't find a prison; I found a modern glass palace. There they were, sitting on a swing set I had designed. Gianna wasn't rotting. She was laughing in his lap, wearing a silk robe. "She is so pathetic," Gianna purred, tracing his jaw. "Five years and she still thinks she is the Lady of the house." Bennet chuckled, the sound dark and terrifying. "She is broken, Gianna. A bird with no wings. She has no value to the Family anymore, except as a trophy on my shelf. She is my pet. You are my fire." My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Bennet. "Happy Anniversary, my Angel. Tonight, I give you the world." He wasn't giving me the world. He was building a cage out of lies. Through a bugged ring, I later heard his endgame: he planned to institutionalize me for "mental instability" so he could bring Gianna into the light. I didn't go home to cry. I went to my office and opened a secure browser on the dark web. *Subject: Protocol Erasure.* *Target: Harper Cline.* *Execution: Immediate.* Bennet thought he had broken his pet. He was about to realize he had just unleashed a lioness.

Betrayed Heiress: A Husband's Deception

Four years after Alanna Robertson, a wealthy heiress, was kidnapped, she miraculously returned home, only to find her fiancé, Cameron Stewart, and brother, Anderson Robertson, completely under the spell of her adoptive sister, Bailey Kent. She tried to expose the truth, but they dismissed her claims as trauma-induced delusions. Instead of finding comfort, Alanna was slapped, pushed down stairs, falsely accused, and humiliated. Her own family, the people she loved most, betrayed her. They sided with Bailey, believing her every lie, and even sent Alanna back to the very human trafficking compound where she had been held captive for years. There, she endured unimaginable torture once more. Why were they so blind? How could they be so easily manipulated by Bailey's sweet facade? Why did the people who claimed to love her punish her for telling the truth? In her darkest hour, Alanna found a hidden camera in her mother's locket. She meticulously recorded every act of betrayal and every moment of her renewed nightmare. Then, with a final, desperate act of defiance, she set the compound ablaze and leaped from a cliff, using her own life as the ultimate proof. She left them with a ticking time bomb of truth, forcing them to confront their monstrous mistakes.

Finding Love After Leaving Him

I spent seven years loving Autry Villarreal, the man who became my guardian after my parents died. He was my savior, my entire world. Then, he announced his engagement to Cassie Turner, a woman who looked uncannily like a younger version of me. I found out by watching it on the news. His fiancée moved into our home and immediately began erasing me. She tore out the rose garden I had spent years tending, laughing as the bushes were ripped from the ground. Next, he used his influence to kill a major brand deal I had, giving it to her instead. The final blow came when she leaked fake, scandalous photos of me online. He refused to defend my name. He told me to just disappear, offering me money to live comfortably as long as I stayed away. "I will protect her," he said. "She is my fiancée." I looked at the man who had promised to always protect me, now offering to pay for my silence. In that moment, seven years of love turned to ash. I booked a one-way ticket to France. This time, I wasn't running away. I was finally choosing to live for myself.

The Final Cut: Love Lost

Ethan Miller, a game developer, was lost in his pixelated world until his fiancée, Chloe, shattered it. He watched online as she flaunted herself with billionaire Julian Harrison, a man old enough to be her father, wearing a sapphire bracelet he couldn't afford. Chloe's merciless abandonment followed. She returned to their apartment only to trash his monitor, mocking him as a "broke nobody" and declaring her love for Harrison right to his face, adding insult to injury. The deep betrayal and humiliation felt like a physical blow. He stared at the shattered screen, the broken pieces of his game, of his life. Chloe packed her bags, laughing as she left, promising Monaco and a life he couldn' t dream of. His world spiraled-a small apartment, a crashed monitor, and the echoing words of Chloe with her new lover. He was a victim, a nobody. Everything they had built was fake, like the pixels on his screen. But the hurt quickly solidified into a cold, burning anger. He picked up his phone, dialed a number he hadn't touched in three years, and with a steady voice, declared, "Dad, I'm coming home."

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."

Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen

Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her. On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back. Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city. Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him. "I'm sorry. Please give me another chance." She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married."

Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

Mr. CEO, Your Wife Shocks the World

"I will marry you. Wait for me!" Mabel woke up. She had that dream again. In her dream, a man said he would marry her. Just a dream. Five years ago, she was set up by her stepsister and became pregnant out of wedlock. She lost everything, including her baby. Five years later, she was forced to marry her stepsister's fiance, Jayden, who was sick and going to pass away. Having no choice, Mabel decided to marry Jayden, not expecting that Jayden was the man...

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.