He Broke Her Heart, She Broke His Bank

He Broke Her Heart, She Broke His Bank

Xin Miaomiao

5.0
Comment(s)
789
View
17
Chapters

I was the architect of my husband's legitimate empire, the queen to his throne as the Don of a powerful crime family. Our home was our sanctuary, our bed the one sacred place he always returned to. But in the middle of the night, I woke to a woman's moan coming from a guest room that was supposed to be empty. The space beside me was cold; my husband, Brendan, was gone. The woman's voice belonged to Kiya, my protégée-a girl I'd mentored like a sister. Through the door, I heard him call me "a piece of furniture that sleeps soundly." I heard him tell her she possessed something I didn't. Then, a video confirmed the ultimate betrayal: a four-year affair, a pregnancy, and his casual dismissal of me as a business arrangement. He called me a title, but he called another woman's child his heir. He had broken the one rule that held our world together, turning my life's work into ash. He thought I was just a fixture in his grand design, a brilliant mind he could control and discard. He was wrong. There was only one way to escape this agony. I would have every memory of him surgically cut from my mind, erase him from my soul like a cancer, and disappear so completely that not even a ghost of me remained.

Chapter 1

I was the architect of my husband's legitimate empire, the queen to his throne as the Don of a powerful crime family. Our home was our sanctuary, our bed the one sacred place he always returned to.

But in the middle of the night, I woke to a woman's moan coming from a guest room that was supposed to be empty. The space beside me was cold; my husband, Brendan, was gone.

The woman's voice belonged to Kiya, my protégée-a girl I'd mentored like a sister. Through the door, I heard him call me "a piece of furniture that sleeps soundly." I heard him tell her she possessed something I didn't. Then, a video confirmed the ultimate betrayal: a four-year affair, a pregnancy, and his casual dismissal of me as a business arrangement.

He called me a title, but he called another woman's child his heir. He had broken the one rule that held our world together, turning my life's work into ash.

He thought I was just a fixture in his grand design, a brilliant mind he could control and discard. He was wrong.

There was only one way to escape this agony. I would have every memory of him surgically cut from my mind, erase him from my soul like a cancer, and disappear so completely that not even a ghost of me remained.

Chapter 1

Elara POV:

At 2:14 AM, the profound silence that can only settle over a house this large was pierced by a sound that had no right to be there.

A woman's moan, low and muffled, slithered down the marble corridor from one of the guest rooms.

It wasn't supposed to be occupied.

The space beside me in our king-sized bed was cold. Brendan was gone.

A knot of ice formed in my stomach. Brendan, for all his sins, had rules.

He was the Don of the Wiggins Crime Family-a man who'd built an empire on violence and control, and the same man who'd saved me from a car bomb planted by a rival family years ago.

He had made me his wife, his Queen, the architect of his legitimate businesses.

Our bed was his throne room, our sanctuary. He always, always came back to it. That was the unspoken law of our domain.

Then I heard it again, sharper this time.

A laugh.

A woman's laugh, slicing through the enforced quiet of our estate.

My heart started hammering against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage.

I slipped out from under the silk sheets, my bare feet making no sound on the cold floor.

I moved through the darkness of our suite, a ghost in the home I had designed and decorated down to the last gilded mirror.

The sounds grew clearer as I neared the heavy oak door of the guest suite at the end of the hall.

Through the wood, I recognized the voices.

His, deep and dismissive.

And hers... hers was the voice of my protégée.

Kiya.

The girl I had personally sponsored, plucked from obscurity and brought into our inner circle. The girl in whom I'd seen a younger, hungrier version of myself.

"She's a piece of furniture that sleeps soundly," Brendan said, his voice laced with the contempt he usually reserved for his enemies.

The words were a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs. I was a fixture. An object in his grand design.

"Is she really as brilliant as they say?" Kiya's voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with a faux innocence that made my skin crawl.

"Her mind built half of what I own," Brendan admitted, a note of pride in his voice that twisted the knife already in my gut. "But you, my dear," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "you have something my wife doesn't."

The world tilted on its axis. The betrayal wasn't just the affair; it was the violation of our home, of my trust in him, and of my trust in her.

He was my Don, the man I had built an empire with, the man who held my entire world in his hands.

And she was the woman I had mentored, the one I'd treated like a younger sister.

It felt like a death sentence. Everything I had built, everything I was, turned to ash in that single moment.

My decision was instant. Absolute.

There was only one way out of this agony.

I would contact Dr. Evans Calderon, the disgraced neuroscientist from my university days. I would have the memory of Brendan Wiggins-of Brendan Ricci, the name he took when he married me-cut out of my mind like a cancer.

I would erase him.

And then, I would disappear.

Continue Reading

Other books by Xin Miaomiao

More
The Healer He Rejected: A White Wolf Reborn

The Healer He Rejected: A White Wolf Reborn

Werewolf

5.0

For six months, I drained my very soul to heal Alpha Coleton's paralyzed spine. I gave so much energy that I lost the ability to shift into my wolf form. I thought when he finally stood up, he would announce to the pack that I was his Fated Mate. Instead, he looked right through me. "You have served the pack well as a servant," he said coldly. Then he welcomed back Charly, the woman who had abandoned him the moment he was injured. To protect Charly from a harmless spider, he shoved me into a purification pool laced with liquid silver. It burned my skin like acid, leaving scars that refused to fade. When Charly faked a cough during lunch, he accused me of poisoning her with Wolfsbane. He didn't check the food. He simply grabbed my jaw and forced boiling hot soup down my throat while I gagged and begged for mercy. "If you hurt her again, I'll make you a slave," he threatened, his eyes full of disgust. I finally understood. My sacrifice meant nothing to him. He would kill me to please a liar. So, I sent a single text: "I accept your rejection, Alpha Coleton." Then I disappeared. Three years later, I returned. Not as a weak, broken healer, but as a legendary White Wolf, with the most powerful Alpha Prime in Europe holding my hand. Coleton fell to his knees in the middle of the airport, tears streaming down his face as he begged for the bond to return. I looked down at him with glowing golden eyes. "You broke me so I could rebuild myself," I said softly. "And I built a world where you don't exist."

The Wedding That Never Was

The Wedding That Never Was

Romance

5.0

The last thing I remembered was the cold, seeping into my bones on the operating table, as doctors frantically tried to stop the hemorrhaging. Then, the words that shattered my world: "The baby… the baby can' t be saved." My baby, gone. And in a flash, I remembered my husband Liam' s venomous sneer just hours before, "If it' s some other man' s bastard, I' ll kill it myself." The pain of his words, worse than labor, twisted my love for my adoptive brother into pure hatred. I believed he had killed our child. Consumed by rage, I seized a scalpel and plunged it into his chest, gasping, "If my child dies, you' re dying with him." His eyes widened in despair, not anger, as consciousness faded. His frantic shouts echoed, "Save her! Get the best doctors… And find her the best lawyer… Don' t let her find out about her father. Let her hate me forever." Tears fell onto my cheek, hot and foreign. My father? What did he have to do with this? Then, darkness. "Do you, Ava Miller, take this man, Liam Hayes, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" My eyes snapped open. The blinding white of the operating room was gone. I was at the altar, clutching white roses, in a heavy wedding dress. Liam stood before me, young and handsome, looking exactly as he had ten years ago. Our wedding day. The day my nightmare began. I was back. He leaned in, his voice a low, impatient hiss, "Ava, what are you doing? Say 'I do.' Don' t make a scene." The same cold tone, the same barely-veiled annoyance. Nothing had changed. I saw Sarah Johnson in the second row, feigning heartbreak, her hand resting protectively over her stomach. Liam' s innocent victim. Then it all crashed down. Liam' s final words, his protection, Sarah' s true manipulation, my father' s death-it was all a misunderstanding, a mountain of lies. I had died because of it once. I wouldn't walk back into that cage. "No. I don' t."

From Digital Death To Shared Reign

From Digital Death To Shared Reign

Romance

5.0

The final memory of my past life was a cold, digital execution. I watched David Chen, my ex-fiancé, on a hundred-foot screen at his company' s IPO launch, alive and destroying me. "Sarah Miller hacked my systems," he' d declared, pulling his new girlfriend, Emily, close. "She tried to con my grieving family and ruin Emily' s reputation." The fallout was immediate: blacklisted, our family' s digital forensics firm raided, our life' s work wiped clean. He' d sneered, "If you can' t bring back my reputation, you' ll pay." I paid. We all did. Until now. The insistent ding-dong of my doorbell cut through the silence, bringing me back to October 12th. It was the day after David Chen was reported dead, the day his parents had come seeking my help. Last time, I' d opened that door, taken their money, accepted their false promises, and poured my soul into his shattered laptop, only for him to rise from the grave to crucify me. But this time, I knew where that path led. I pressed my face against the cool wood, my voice steady. "Go away." Mrs. Chen's muffled plea followed: "Sarah, please! It's about David. We need your help." I' d lied: "No one can truly recover data from a physically destroyed device." The silence on the other side thickened with their disbelief, just before the lock on my door clicked. He was here. Already. The door swung open, revealing David Chen, perfectly alive, his charismatic smile a cruel slash. "See, Mom, Dad? I told you she was hiding something," he said, his eyes locking onto mine, a chilling, possessive fire in them. "She knew I wasn't dead." Emily slipped in behind him, a picture of deceptive innocence. He picked up my brother' s locket, a symbol of my family, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed it out the window. "You're a monster," I whispered. "No," he said, "I'm a survivor. You've had your little rebirth, your second chance. Fine. Let's see what you do with it." He knew. He was acknowledging it, and my blood ran cold. He thought he had won, confining me to this digital graveyard. But he was wrong. He hadn't just confined me. He had given me a target.

Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance

Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance

Modern

5.0

The cold, sharp edges of the resin necklace dug into my skin, a constant, physical reminder of Alexander Vance' s twisted grasp. Just hours ago, I, Scarlett Hayes, had almost tasted freedom, only to be dragged back to this gilded cage. He didn't yell, he never did, not at first; his silence was always more terrifying than any scream. "Why do you keep trying to leave?" he would ask, his voice a smooth vibration that set my teeth on edge, entirely oblivious to the torment he inflicted. I longed to tell him that his control was suffocating, or that the fractured pieces of my destroyed art embedded in the necklace were a constant agony. Instead, I met his gaze with a defiant chin, "Maybe I like the exercise." But Alexander Vance was never fooled, not the man who saw me only as a broken bird to be possessed. My wrist still carried the faint scar from the day he broke my drawing hand, a brutal lesson in his twisted love. "Don' t lie to me," he whispered, his thumb pressing down on the mark, "You met with someone. You think there' s a single breath you take in this city that I' m not aware of?" The accusation hung thick and suffocating; he was right – I met Marcus Thorne, his rival, my only hope for escape. But what if my hope was just another cage? What if the man I thought was my savior was just as monstrous and possessive as my captor, seeing me not as a person, but as a prize to be won? The question gnawed at me with chilling certainty, just weeks before Alexander' s grand "Aion Project" launch, a monument built on the ruin of my family' s dreams. This elaborate trap, this calculated play for freedom, was not just about survival anymore. It was about discovering how deep the treachery went.

You'll also like

His Discarded Gem: Shining In The Ruthless Don's Arms

His Discarded Gem: Shining In The Ruthless Don's Arms

Temple Madison
5.0

For four years, I traced the bullet scar on Chace’s chest, believing it was proof he would bleed to keep me safe. On our anniversary, he told me to wear white because "tonight changes everything." I walked into the gala thinking I was getting a ring. Instead, I stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, drowning in silk, watching him slide his mother's sapphire onto another woman's finger. Karyn Warren. The daughter of a rival family. When I begged him with my eyes to claim me, to save me from the public humiliation, he didn't flinch. He just leaned toward his Underboss, his voice amplified by the silence. "Karyn is for power. Ember is for pleasure. Don't confuse the assets." My heart didn't just break; it incinerated. He expected me to stay as his mistress, threatening to dig up my dead mother’s grave if I refused to play the obedient pet. He thought I was trapped. He thought I had nowhere to go because of my father’s massive gambling debts. He was wrong. With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and texted the one name I was never supposed to use. Keith Mosley. The Don. The monster under Chace's bed. *I am invoking the Blood Oath. My father’s debt. I am ready to pay it.* His reply came three seconds later, buzzing against my palm like a warning. *The price is marriage. You belong to me. Yes or No?* I looked up at Chace, who was laughing with his new fiancée, thinking he owned me. I looked down and typed three letters. *Yes.*

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Alma
5.0

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book