0
TOP UP
Reading History
Sign out
Get the APPFalse Perfection
/1/129475/coverorgin.jpg?v=7cffc475e4bbe7e23904a63fe7cd1bf2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Jilted Girlfriend? I Am The Tycoon's Wife
Cara Lewis sat quietly as her boyfriend of three years pushed a plate of dessert across the table, wearing a rehearsed mask of sorrow. He claimed he had to break up with her for her own good, blaming his lack of connections on Wall Street and insisting he couldn't give her the life she deserved. He acted like a martyr making a tragic sacrifice, waiting for her desperate tears and trembling denial. Instead, Cara calmly pulled out a stack of glossy photos and an elegant engagement invitation. She exposed his secret affair with the wealthy Hailie Lewis, completely dismantling his hypocritical social climb. Leaving the cheating narcissist pale and humiliated, Cara paid the bill and walked out, thinking the trash had finally been taken out. But her newly single evening took a chaotic turn when a teenage gaming partner called in a panic. He begged her to crash his elite prep school and pose as his aunt to save him from expulsion. Cara agreed, flawlessly playing the role of the secret new wife to his uncle, a notoriously ruthless Wall Street titan. She was thoroughly dominating the snobby school board when the office doors suddenly swung open. The real billionaire uncle, Beck Greer, walked into the room. Cara's heart dropped into her stomach as his glacial eyes locked onto her, knowing her social existence in New York was about to end. Caught in a terrifying, inescapable lie, Cara made an insane calculation. She stepped forward, firmly hooked her arm through the billionaire's, and smiled sweetly. "Honey, what took you so long? Julian and I were being bullied." She waited for the executioner's axe to fall, but the untouchable tycoon simply covered her hand with his and played along.Across the white tablecloth of Serafina, Bradyn Hubbard—Cara Lewis's boyfriend of three years—set his wine down and leaned forward. He pulled a thick, cream-colored envelope from his jacket and slid it across the table until it rested in front of her.
Cara looked down. The gold foil lettering was fresh from the press.
Engagement Gala
Groom: Bradyn Hubbard
Bride: Hailie Lewis
Venue: The Lewis Estate, Long Island. Next Saturday.
"Cara, let's be realistic," Bradyn said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Hailie is my ticket to the top. Marrying her is the only shortcut for a guy like me to get a seat on the board. I don't love her—she's just the ladder I have to climb for my career."
Cara stared at the card, then lifted her cold amber eyes to meet his. "So you're proposing what, exactly?"
Bradyn gave a smug, self-satisfied smile.
"We break up publicly. But in private? Nothing has to change. You funded my MBA and paid my rent for three years—I haven't forgotten that. Stay quiet, be my little secret on the side, and once I secure the Lewis assets, I'll make sure you're taken care of in luxury."
Cara stared at his shameless face, her voice dropping into a dangerous, silky calm. "You sold yourself as a kept man to my stepsister, and you expect me to be your dirty little secret?"
"Don't make it sound so ugly, Cara," Bradyn scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "That's how men get ahead in Manhattan. Be realistic, Cara. You're broke and you have no one. Who else is going to take care of you? Don't be stupid. Just take the deal."
Cara looked at him for one quiet second, her lips curving into a razor-sharp smile.
"In your wildest dreams, Bradyn."
Without a second's hesitation, Cara picked up her crystal tumbler and threw the cold bourbon and ice straight into his face.
The freezing liquor drenched his styled hair and soaked the collar of his designer shirt. Bradyn gasped, shooting up from the velvet booth in sheer shock, frantically wiping his stinging eyes.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he snarled, glaring at her as neighboring tables turned to stare.
Cara set the empty glass down with a quiet, deliberate tap.
Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her Saint Laurent bag, pulled out a thick manila folder, and dropped it heavily onto his soaked lap.
"Open it, parasite," Cara said calmly.
Bradyn's hands shook as he ripped the folder open.
A thick stack of forensic-grade photographs spilled across the table. His breath caught in his throat—the photos showed him and Hailie completely naked, tangled in the satin sheets of a suite at the Baccarat Hotel.
Taped right behind the prints was a notarized invoice.
Columbia MBA Tuition & Fees: $186,000.00
Tribeca Penthouse Lease Subsidies: $94,000.00
Bespoke Wardrobe & Networking Tabs: $62,000.00
TOTAL REIMBURSEMENT DUE: $342,000.00
Bradyn's face turned an ashen, sickly gray. "You... you tracked me?"
"Three hundred and forty-two grand," Cara said, tapping the total with a manicured nail. "Wire it back to my account by Monday morning. If you don't, these photos go directly to Hailie's father and the Lewis board."
The shock on Bradyn's face instantly curdled into ugly fury. He slammed both hands on the table, leaning in with a desperate hiss. "You crazy bitch! You gave me that money willingly—that was trust money! You can't sue me for gifts!"
"I invested in a partner, Bradyn, not a freeloader," Cara said coldly. "You lived off my money for three years just to become my stepsister's leashed lapdog. Pay back every cent by Monday, or wear the collar in public."
"You fucking bitch—" Bradyn lunged forward, grabbing for her wrist.
Cara smoothly stepped back, out of his reach. She stood tall, smoothing the front of her tailored coat, looking down at him with absolute disgust.
Slowly, deliberately, she raised her hand and flipped him a clean, effortless middle finger.
"Congratulations on the engagement, Bradyn," Cara said softly. "You and Hailie deserve each other."
/0/22452/coverorgin.jpg?v=3d3beb0b38de699a29ae805abc100d7e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
False Bestfriends
They are BESTFRIENDS. Not childhood best friends. They met when she was 12 and he, 13 and they had stuck close to each other since then. Joan, that was her name and her best friend, King. Now she was 17, he, 18 and it seemed like everything stood against their five year friendship; Joan's mother's/0/70270/coverorgin.jpg?v=577f3c30b5c194d3127a7068a5bf8a09&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Perfection
I spun around, my heart skipping a beat as I took in the sight of a tall, dark-haired man standing behind me. His piercing eyes sparkled with amusement, and his full lips curved into a sly smile. "Those poor grass blades would be wondering what they did," he repeated, his deep voice sending a shiv/0/23911/coverorgin.jpg?v=535df8d9bbd3c731e5e373e54bd5551e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Perfection in imperfections
Do you know how we've all made mistakes? Some worse than others. Imperfection is key, journey through the ends of the Earth, and not a single perfect soul shall be found. We are different, look past the mistakes and there you'll find beauty. Ever met someone confusing, complicated, and ridiculousl/0/22460/coverorgin.jpg?v=6cfe92d628a44a3976db2bb8eff7deeb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Contract(Miss Perfection)
Jake harrowsmith, the heir of the brown empire had just moved into a new town called Renal town, to meet his dad's business associate; who had loaned a huge sum of money from him sometimes in the past. He wasn't a bit bothered about the money, but he felt it would be fair enough to pay his dad's bus/0/46439/coverorgin.jpg?v=e54c404adf40fd59af90151fb31f13af&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband's False Love
"Help me seek revenge...," a woman pleaded with a man sitting arrogantly in his chair, crossing his legs. The woman, her face partially covered with a scarf, bore severe burn scars – Ariana Wilson. A hapless woman betrayed by her husband and his own friend, who cruelly burned her alive. Fortunately,/0/46720/coverorgin.jpg?v=946ed5feb872606aff21a844bc434e1c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Epitome Of Perfection
I shook my head before looking at myself through the mirror again. I just did a little touch-up and decided to go out again. It would be embarrassing if I kept Damian waiting there. He seems like a nice guy. We've only exchanged a few words, but I immediately sense his goodness. He doesn't seem like/0/82933/coverorgin.jpg?v=6a89f068ad4757dfeb28fd17f119b579&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Price of Perfection
It was my birthday, marking ten silent years I' d lived inside Marcus Thorne' s gilded mansion. I was his late wife' s eerie look-alike, tasked with raising his son, Leo, in a life of unimaginable luxury and suffocating expectation. Then, a seemingly innocent smoothie led to a violent miscarriage,/0/58460/coverorgin.jpg?v=19a4fea0e89d1ad8e3aa67c4c116bdef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Remarried To The False Heir
Tristan is the real young master in the drama. His father said, whoever between him and his brother first has a grandson, will be able to inherit billions of assets from the family. Three years after getting married, he was honest and sincere: "If you can't get pregnant, but she is pregnant, I ca/0/80767/coverorgin.jpg?v=c479d91dc30928fde65c90681b58eb0f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Shattered Perfection: A CEO's Downfall
My life as Ava Sharma, a successful architect, half of New York's power couple with my CEO husband Liam, seemed perfect. He always said my "delicate health" was why we were child-free, and I believed him. But when he suddenly announced he'd "adopted" two kids without me, a subtle shift occurred. The/0/80397/coverorgin.jpg?v=54e542c80916385fd4ef4963f612ebb8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Heir and His False Queen
I was the heir to a tech and real estate empire, living a life most only dreamed of. Yet, I felt a constant ache, a longing for something pure. My father’s “Vanguard Program” was supposed to find me a wife, and I was infatuated with Ava Moreau, the ice queen he picked as a frontrunner. I thought she/0/80782/coverorgin.jpg?v=3e8855d474fc67b8d9a75e19bb398eb7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The False Heir of the Mafia
"What would your father do if he knew where you are now, Isabella?" Marco whispers. My voice trembles, but the sentence comes out anyway. "The same as yours, if he knew what you've been hiding from him." * Isidro Ricci is the perfect heir to his father's empire, an ideal blend of cruelty and inte/0/82708/coverorgin.jpg?v=85d423139f641ccfe35c74d60ce76f02&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Price of a False Hero
Ethan Miller possessed a secret gift: blood that could heal any wound, reverse any sickness. In a past life, he used it to save Bree Vanderbilt, a beautiful socialite paralyzed from the waist down. The Vanderbilts had promised him immense wealth and marriage, but Bree, fixated on her "hero" boyfr/1/118389/coverorgin.jpg?v=52d8b3e0ace510b5a270e8e68c72cb6e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rejected by the False Mate, Claimed by the Alpha King
I stood in the grand parlor and warned Zander that if he walked out to his mistress again, I would find another mate. He laughed in my face and called me a broken Omega whose ruined body no man would ever touch. Three days later a glowing parchment arrived. It showed two pups growing inside me, and/0/84186/coverorgin.jpg?v=a07508136fbe2e7572da1e5abcd3df29&imageMogr2/format/webp)
He Played Her False: She Played Her Way Out
My Juilliard cello degree was just background noise to the perfect smile I plastered on for my husband, Wesley' s, political fundraisers. For eight years, I was "Mrs. Wesley Lester," a pretty prop, while my priceless 18th-century cello sat in its case, my only sacred space, untouched by him. Then/0/91998/coverorgin.jpg?v=053bbb4edf6498dd2e90d61fa917234f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
